A Thought of You Occurred Today

A thought of you occurred today....
Ok.... three or four... actually thirty or more.
But this one stilled me,
gave me calm.
Imagining your hand in my palm
and a table set for two,
with candles lit
over which I'm looking at you.
Your lips still wet
from a sip of wine....
your eyes smiling
as they gallop into mine.
Soft music in the air....
reflections of the candles' flames
dancing in your hair,
and for one brief moment
I had everything I'd always wanted.
For one brief moment
there was no one else in the world....
no right or wrong....
no guilt or sorrow....
no fears of what
may come tomorrow.
Just love...
pure, unbridled,
everything love's meant to be.
And in your eyes I can see
the longing for this time....
the hunger for a kindred heart....
a prayer that they might never part....
and that this moment might last forever.
I pray along with you
a prayer I never pray...
while holding your hand in mine.

(c) PAPoetGuy 2000

Before

I've been here before.
Where thoughts and words
fill me, and give me pause.....
and still me.
Memories return
from another time
when I thought I was complete.
Could what surrounds me repeat
that which was as close to heaven
that I ever knew?
Or is the current phenomena
simply a facade,
masking what is really true.
I've been here before.
I've felt every hair and fiber
dancing well into the night.
I've dreamt and re-dreamt
the dreams that oft times frightened me
and begged me to wake up and look around me
to remind me of where I dwell.
Yet I fell deeper into love.
Oh yes,
I've been here before.
Pacing the floor till dawn,
juggling my feelings....
my head reeling from the possibilities....
my heart stealing level thoughts
and tossing them into the corner
hoping I wouldn't find them.
Allowing me to blindly go
where perhaps I should not.
I've been here before.
And I've learned from that journey.
But....perhaps there's more.

(c) PAPoetGuy 2000

The Door

Sure....
close the door.
Cram it full
and nail it shut.
You don't have the guts
to let someone
rummage through.
You don't have the nerve
to let anybody see what's there.
You want to put it all
where even you can't see it.
Too late my Love.
I saw too much.
I saw the things
you you try to hide.
I saw some things
deep inside
that tumbled out the door.
And I know I saw more
than you'd ever intend.
So go ahead and pretend
they don't exist.
Use lot's of nails
and just board up
the whole damn thing.
But where are you going to put the new stuff?

(c) PAPoetGuy 2000

Eyes 3


Burning
yearning
hungry
ablaze
waves of anger
splashing out of
years of hurt
searing
endearing
fearing nothing
wanting it all
giving everything
holding back the tears
damning wasted years
during which your eyes were closed.
Strong
longing into the night
gazing into the future
lazing in another’s stare
angry as hell
and not wanting to take it any more....
get away from me eyes
watch it buddy eyes
fuck me eyes
love me till I die eyes
so soft
so pure
so tired
so goddam captivating.
Brave
thirsty
sad
bad girl eyes
come rescue me eyes
get me out of here eyes
eyes that are shouting
for peace
and comfort.

(c) PAPoetGuy 2000

First kiss,

appearing out of nowhere,
surprising this one who
is rarely surprised anymore.
Laced with curiosity,
steeped in welcome,
grabbing my attention,
not letting me ignore the spark or two
that made me jump just a bit.
First kiss,
fresh and clean,
tasting like tomorrow
instead of some same old song.
Hanging like a picture
in my well constructed thoughts,
fitting well,
like it's been there all along.
First kiss,
a simple introduction
of two who have been around
this block now and again.
A tender greeting,
a tenuous meeting
of two hearts that
know well the regimen
that has left us
all alone in the past.
First kiss,
sprinkled with desire
that is kept hidden
in the caverns of my mind.
A flash of hope
lit up my eyes,
compelling me to take a look
to see what I might find
behind the lips
that gave me a first kiss.

(c) PAPoetGuy 2000

Soon

Soon my lady
we'll take the step
we've flirted with
all this time,
where I've dwelt
in your thoughts
and you've lived in mine.
Exchanging smiles
and furtive glances
all the while
wondering
what were the chances
of coming face to face.
Where our eyes
can judge our hearts
and our hands might start
a dance of their own
and we might see
how things compare
to that which we have known.
Soon my lady....
soon.

(c) PAPoetGuy 2000

Heartprints They're there you know. All the things you've done to touch my heart. Each kiss and caress that were a part of us are nevertheless still there. While the bruises and nicks heal with time, the heartprints you left will always be mine and memories will never fade. Forever touched... I am blessed with this. And while I know I will miss it all, it's only a thought away. Good heartprints are these. They slip into my thoughts with ease and give me comfort there. Knowing that the time we shared was, well.... more than special, it was enriching. The losses pale compared to the gains. For while you are gone those heartprints remain and will always be a part of me. Thank you for the heartprints. (c) PAPoetGuy 2000

Here is how I Would Love You

Here is how I would love you.
Fully...
completely...
unreserved and unending.
Always there
to care,
to support,
to share,
to hold.
I will give you smiles
and kiss away your tears,
combat your fears
and touch you softly.
I won’t steal time away from you,
but will give you all of mine if you want me to.
I won’t be perfect,
but I will try
to be everything you want and need….
I will be me.
I won’t control or use.
I won’t belittle or abuse,
but I will enrich your life
when I can….
as you will surely enrich mine.
I may teach and help you grow,
But you will always know
It is out of love.
There will be respect.
There will be honor.
And you will not have to suspect
That I would be untrue.
And you will see….
I will let you love me.

(c) PAPoetGuy 2000

HURT

I lied you know,
when I said I couldn't be hurt.
You hurt me bad.
Just when I thought I had
everything I'd always wanted.
You played the part
before you threw my heart
on to the pile of
the used to bes
and the could have beens.
I gave my all,
but my all
was not enough I guess.
So you move on
to other arms
and other charms
and I am left with nothing
but memories
of you with me
for that very short time...
memories that won't go away.
Each day I think
that they will fade,
but they stay
and don't lessen.
yeah...
some lesson I've learned.
Keep it to myself....
don't give my last emotion...
don't believe the words
"I love you."
Don't put my trust
in open hands again.
it only leads to pain...
the pain I said I'd never feel.
Fuck it...
the pain is real

(c) PAPoetGuy 2000

I Miss the Farm

I miss the farm
I've never lived on one
but there's no harm,
I guess,
in missing it nonetheless.
I've visited farms...
other people's farms,
nameless farms,
with forties whose barbed wire fences
I would traverse under or over
in search of the perfect fishing hole...
or a freshly plowed field
in which to hunt arrowheads...
or even just a place
to watch the cows now and then.
I remember my young friend,
one time,
raining tears of terror when
the only thing between a swirling eddy
in the stream behind him
and a curious spotted calf
in front of him
was a rock upon which he was standing.
Simple farms during much simpler times.
I might have been a good farmer
were it not for the work...
and the sweat...
and the debt.
But I would have honored the green grass
and the sun and the rain the way
good farmers do...
And I too could get up at the break of dawn,
cause there would be so many items on my
to do list each day;
like lay in a field of Queen Anne's Lace and clover,
mulling over the question of rotating crops
versus stopping at the supply store to pick
up a new post hole digger.
Then I would long about a big lunch
and an even bigger dinner to feed
the healthy appetite of a man who
works the soil,
toiling from sun up to sun down,
then turning around to do it again
the very next day.
Yes...
I miss the farm.
I miss it almost daily
as I maneuver about on
on a patchwork of macadam...
and concrete...
and street debris...
instead of corn or wheat or soy or tomatoes.
And so it goes
that the stench of gutter garbage
will never smell as sweet as
manure drenched by a spring shower...
and the cackling of a hen
will always be more soothing
than the chatter and clatter
of men and women in the apartments above me.
Yes...
I miss the farm
though I've never lived on one.

(c) PAPoetGuy 2000

In Love With a Dream

In love with a dream,
we are.
The dream we've dreamt forever.
The dream we always will.
Always searching
till we may someday find it
waiting at our door.
Just standing there with a smile
and a bunch of flowers
picked up at a convenience store
along the way.
Exchanging knowing looks
and touching fingers.
Lingering there for a bit...
and then finishing our life...
our dream.

(c) PAPoetGuy 2000

Lifethread                                                              the tapestry                                my life                                                                                                     worn                      fading                                          losing luster                                                                                                                                          hanging lonely                                                         upon darkened wall.                           abandoned thrice                                                                                                 or more                                                                   and counting                                                    waiting                 for the final fall.                                                                                                                but for you                                          my blessed lifethread,                 no one                                                                   takes the time to see                                                                                                 all thestitches                           that are my lifeblood                                               all the colors                 that have painted me.                                               this,                                                                                            the weave                           once strong                                                                   through struggle                                          firmresolve            grit and steel                                                                                                      weakens daily                                               saps my strength                 leaves me weary                                                                                  despite my will.                                          again I say                                                         my blessed lifethread            your heart                                                                   your vision                                          your tender hand                                                                                       stops me                      calms me                                                              gives me pause                                                                                                 to know                                     that you understand. (c) PAPoetGuy 2000

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Moon Dancer

Moon dancer...
dance for me.
Dance old dances
that tell the stories
of the hardships of winter
and the welcome of spring.
Sing the songs taught by the elders
about bountiful fruits
that summer then brings.
Summon the spirits
that always surround us,
guiding our walk on uncharted trails.
Circle the fire
as nighttime befalls us
and listen while Medicine Men
repeat ancient tales.
Dance the Buckskin, Cloth, and Jingle.
Dance the beautiful Fancy Shawl.
Let young warriors do the Grass dance
and the Fancy Feather too.
Let the spirit of the Great Eagle
fill your heart
and then enrich your soul anew.
Touch the ground
and feel the sweet promise
of blessed fertile Mother Earth.
To the west the Su-non-to-yah Mountains.
To the east and south
Po-ho-no-be and Wi-co-bah,
and the Wong-goga-da to the north.
Lift up your hand
and touch Father Sky
as you confidently
execute each careful step.
Turn and sway
with your head held up high,
proudly reminding us that we might not forget.
Sing of the history
that has marched on before us,
share the tears that your forefathers shed.
Let the drums
give you the heartbeat
to revisit the grounds
where your ancestors tread.
Moon Dancer...
dance for me.

(c) PAPoetGuy 2000