Sometimes

Sometimes
when my mind wanders
to places
that in real life
I can't,
if it's with you,
I let it go.
And I bring along
your gazes
and glances
and involuntary smiles.
There's something
in the eyes
that defies my
comprehension,
and it fuels
my emotions
and tugs at
my strings.
It exceeds what gets said
and challenges
all order.
And so
when it's with you
I like
to let
it go.

Save This

What if it was random writing?
Kind of like stream of consciousness
Only less organized
Not that some coherent thought
Would voluntarily show itself
A lot like the feeling you experience
When you are waiting for your ride
How many different versions
Of strictly rhetorical questions
Does it take to produce
A result so much less inspirational
Before the fabrication becomes
Entirely forged self evident
And the versions that evolve ensure
That self-conscious dash for the car
As if every eye was blatant aware
Saw each nuance and crack in veneer
With all judgement force then passed
Whole reputations effectively formed
Witness for defense denied
Reason most likely wronged
Imperceptibly darkness dawns
Light that was but a different shade
Suddenly burns bright the increased contrast
While still the line of cars
Fails to match the waiting heterogeneity
Though in transition
As slow as the evening falls
One seems to find the other
As if choreographed by fate
Until the lone straggler
Gets picked up late
And whisked to the next destination
Leaving solemn solace behind
To deal with all that remains
Of the questions
Which linger unasked
Hinting at perpetual
Ineffectual translation

Less Than Obvious

Remember the taste
It was blood from your lip
Feel the taste of carbonation foam
Taste a smell like
Fresh-fired wood smoke
Bend back and groan
It's not even light yet
It even sounds dark too
But to be this warm in the cold
The heat must come from you
You don't know what I'm thinking
Even when it seems like you do
Shift
Then shiver
Even though you are warm
Exit strategy as a concept
Sounds much less luxurious
Alone
If we all had one answer
A good percentage would be wrong
If it takes one to know one
Then I guess we all won't
But with little struggle
From the collective
The memory comes home
And the taste of our own blood
Simmers familiar
Yet strangely unknown

All The French I Ever Learned Was Faux

Wrestle with reality
Until the grasp exceeds the grip
Get what little you could have paid
As a tribute to the trip
Wax and wane until the bit is best
To mean the last translation
May turn out better than the rest
Sing the song as lyrical
Remembering fractions
Of each verse empirical
Let interruptions intrude too frequently
Swim against tides of time
Of age and memory
Boast of endurance equaling unending
To mask discrepancies
Which accuracy's deserve defending
Dream to climb the Pyrenees of recognition
For the last of what gets forgotten
With each renewed edition
Expect the most visible physical planed
Will overshadow tenfold forces
Infinitely less constrained
Find the real and imagined essentiality
Draw close to soul, admit confusion
Lie down, be pinned by life's duality