Random posts by random folks
You wear fine fabric
of moonlight beams
with shades of midnight blue
and hues of silver.
The night dances carefully
on the floor around you
but trips on its feet,
lost in the beat
of a serenade the planets play
but like us all
it falls
in distraction.
If it is just another short evening
that fades to morning quickly,
whatever will the day
hold in store?
I love you most when you are you
and the least when you are me
but even when the tarnished mirror
reflects near-perfect, picture clear
the image of the one who’s near
my love for you will always be–
for you are you through and through
Drawn curtains
of reds and yellows and blues,
a painting between
the eyes and soul.
I can’t tell
if I’m looking in
or looking out
but drawn curtains
keep me occupied.
Foggy morning dew
washes away the nightmares
and shrouds the dreams
in between,
a new day for laughter
in a defensible way.
The devils have no self-respect
but still manage to wretch
at the sight of you.
The poor and ravenous beggars
will never feast
on fine food or dignity,
nor will the wolves they skin
bite the paw that feeds them
or resort to clothes
of friends
I doubt it.
That this is what you wanted.
This? This?!
But you insist
and I can’t resist
the nagging feeling
that something is wrong.
I’m about to ruin this,
aren’t I?
No doubt.
But this is never what I wanted.
Skipping stones to watch
the sun glitter disperse
across the water,
an attempt subconsciously made
but impossibly executed
to make more coins
from a block of gold.
My pockets are empty
and the sun still sets
but I find something resembling a feeling
that I’m the richest man alive.
You wear your art there on your sleeve
exactly where it needs to be
a sight, beheld, of beauty fair
but of a love I wouldn’t dare
Didn’t want a heart of flesh
but You sure did for me.
So, this is grace?
The old stone crumbles,
the new heart beats.
No, don’t think of them as tears
even though they emerged
from a depth I could never understand,
a depth of loneliness and despair.
Think instead of clear waters
to wash away the rose-colored tint
and the grimy pessimistic perception
that blinds. Can you see?
Can you see more clearly?
But why can’t I see you?
The Unnecessary Blog 