Rain and Love

The rain is dashing on the windows
the roof.
Upstairs, it's probably raining in
onto my mess of a room.

But I can only think
of the best way to say
how I feel.

I feel light
and loved.
And happy.

He loves me.
And that matters.

He loves.

and now
after all this time
and all these poems

he is.
he loves.

we love.

there are so many things,
things to do
to say
to laugh.

to decide.

---------------------

there was suddenly a moment, a little moment, when I knew that this was a big deal. he was in process of asking me out. not just on a date, but for real. and all of the sudden, it was real. I was going to date someone halfway across the world? really? this is serious. what if we get married? where will we live? where will our kids grow up? how many kids will we have? what type of house will we own?

--------------------

I love him.
I do.
he loves me.
I don't doubt that.

but forever
is
a
very
long
time.

too long to love?
too long to trust?
too long to hope?

I love him.

Accidental Liking

I got hit by a car while I was riding my bike.

It was a very dramatic scene with people rushing all around me and an ambulance and some random lady named Kiki trying to ride to the hospital with me. I was shaken up, but generally okay.

And standing there, looking bewildered, was the kid who hit me. He held an ice pack up to my ankle for a while, and he kept apologizing. I tried to tell him I was fine, but he couldn't stop dwelling on what had just happened.

And I couldn't help but notice that he was very attractive.

I should have been angry with him. He had just hit me with his car. I was in pain because he had run a red light.

But all I could see was his scared blue eyes looking down at me, asking if the ice was in the right spot. And all I could hear was his shaking voice saying that he hoped I would be okay.

And when I called later that night to tell him I was okay, I couldn't bring myself to get off the phone because I couldn't stop thinking about how we would likely never see each other or talk to each other ever again.

The Watering Hole

I'm taking a break from poetry for a little while. Enjoy the following post about my evening.

The people all gathered at the circle thirsty for sound and laughter and community. The band played some sort of blues, just to make sure everyone was happy with their selection. The old men were the first to get up and dance because the opinion of others mattered least to them. That one college kid was next, out of school for the summer or maybe for forever, and higher than the electric's highest note, and his slow zombie dance was mimicked by the teenage girls giggling and anxious for anything remotely sexual. The old ladies were dressed like the teenagers; they set down their wine and started swinging their hips and too short skirts for everyone to see, and the old men were still pulled by their moves, drawn to the swivels and shimmies like a lion to the water. The singer begged for attention, but the crowd was too busy.

The homeless lady walked around the circle slowly, dragging her bag of empties, making sure to dump out the last drops of each and every beverage, and the compassionate drunks handed her every bottle making her the richest homeless woman in the city. The kids started drawing caricatures of the band in chalk on the ground which were remarkably good, but the old dancers smeared the lead singer's eyebrow and he looked like he had a scar. The biker gang swayed in time to the music, all up front, with their proud leathers and tattoos. 

A new couple, an elderly couple, stood to dance. She gingerly placed each foot with care, while he glided with ease leading her gently but firmly. They had done this same dance for years, but now her hip was sore, and he held it tight to make sure everything was all right. When the song ended, she sat, but he kept dancing, gliding around his spot in the circle, dancing with his imagination.

The band quit playing. The moment was disturbed, and the people wandered away, their lust for music satisfied.

the important people

the important people,
dressed in suits,
showed up for the show.
we all were entertained
by them as a spectacle,
peering through the glass
at their outside glow.

they looked less like
the thieves they are,
especially as they sweat through their suits.
after all, the sunshine,
which was celebrated as an energy source,
makes it hot for those sitting mute.

so we watched them sweat,
from our air conditioned seats,
waiting for the time when
they couldn't take the heat.

finished

finished with this game,
I'll walk away from you.
I don't need to turn back to know
that you have already moved on.

I truly did
believe myself;
my own lies created my
foolish ideas.

I don't need you to tell me
that it's all over.
I already know.

I told a lie once

I told a lie once,
a little lie.
Not any thing extraordinary.

I told a lie to make you cry
because I knew that I could.

I told a little lie
because I wanted to see
if you liked me.
And you answered in such a way
that I knew from that very day
that you were done with me.

So out of my lie
comes the truth.
That you and I
are over.