COLLECTING YOU

Like Lespere

I hold my memories

To my chest

Boxes

Volumes

Moments

Words

Song

Trysts

Scandals

Tiny

Small

Breaths

And observations

From

Afar

Across rooms

Tables

Galaxies.

And

Still

You

Sit there

Not knowing

Just 

Exactly

What

You

Feel.

~ Road Runner Club, Borrego Springs, CA – 6/20/12
previously unpublished. Dedicated to Ray Bradbury.

TRIO THREE

Not nearly straight and nothing but chaser
Illustrious riff rears its Promethean head
For one brief measure
Every 20^th or so
Just a clue
Like a fleck of orange in a room-wide
Pollack
diatribe.

~ spontaneous composition penned during the opening tune of the first set of
TRIO THREE (Oliver Lake / Reggie Workman / Andrew Cyrille) at the Philadelphia Art Museum.

AFTER SEVEN DAYS OF ORBITING YOU

i.

You and your fragile, broken heart
Call me
A beacon in my endless night.
One fleeting glance
Caught me unaware
Cemented my devotion
Catalyst for my silly yearning
Heartfelt seriousness
Immense care.

The endless boots
Compelling stockings
Classy style and stylish cap
Launch a million dreams
That no small feat of mesmerizing foolishness
Can fulfill.
To find me in your sphere
An odd
Complex
And silly joke
I would not trade for all the green tea in China.
That you would ever find something in me
Worthy of your delicious
Germanic upper lip,
Cascading hair
Luminous in the light of another barroom
The easy grace and subtle humor of your hips
Your waist
Your gentle hands on my arm
And
Again those eyes
Which disarm me of any "game"
Every time they smile into mine
-- a mystery no soothsayer
Can decipher.
Just blessed
I guess
I
am
Indeed.

ii.

One
Fleeting
Glance
As I locked into those eyes
As you walked purposefully
Down
The aisle towards your seat --
End of intermission
Start of a new chapter.

It had been decades
Since a lightning bolt
Caught me
Dead center.
Eons since this age old
Heart of mine
Screamed so loudly out at me,
“Pay attention YOU!!!
Do not take one more step
Without really seeing
The blessing before you.”

How can I be so bold as to want so much so quickly
To presume so much connection
From such a fragile heart
When my own has been so empty for so long?
Just when I thought life was just a trick of the light
Done with mirrors
Fun house deception
Gone batty
In the dead of night,
Just when I thought I'd filled the hole
With myriad sweet sensations
Songs of bliss
Keys of life
Women of loving tenderness
And fiery surprise...

...here you are
Showing me signs of redemption
When all you see from your end is pain.
If you only knew what you have given me
That your breath be mine
my nightly wish
That our eyes stay focused
Every minute, my prayer...
That I am not a fool
And don’t presume your resonant youth
Divine presence
And ravenous beauty could be anything
I’d be worthy of.
But, a man can dream,
My how this man can do nothing but.

iii.

So I keep my distance
Respecting your pain
While wanting nothing but to cure you
Enticing your time away from all comers
Wanting only to enchant you
Wishing I could be just the very thing that you need
In just this one moment
And
Then
Again
In the next.

iv.

And what is
Is
And what will be
Will be.
I can do nothing more
Than wish I could break through
The armor
Of distraction
Of iPhones
Ex-lovers
And timelines
Preconceptions
Of cockblockers
And last calls
To just tell you
Thanks
For making
This one man
Feel
At least
While locked in your gaze
One
Glimmer more
Important
And sexy
And worthy
For at least this very
Short
And beautiful
Moment in time.

-- January 15, 2010 - spontaneous heart writing, 3:54am

WOMEN BY THE WINDOW WAITING

the pen is / mightier than / the bored / hello or

rushing conquest / notching a new name
on the list / I scored!
if only more men / knew that words
are so seductive, yes / and captivating
there would be fewer / women by the window waiting
- Rhys McClure

And then there is the dilemma of the men
walking below those filled windows
chasing
scraps of paper
shredded love letters
that spin in the draft
of their yearning
around some blind corner
where only dream shadows
await.

They look up into the rain
fingernail crescent
diving behind rooftop edge
windows empty
shades drawn
night
longer
than most.






~ for Rhys. Thanks for the light that sparked this poem.
Poetic 2nd Comment by Brad on Rhys’ Facebook comment on the poem
WHY SO SHY BOY? November 6, 2:42am

BE GHAT

For what eager mind
To diminish night sky
Ego flight and fancy’s anointed charismatic decree?
Bone bag miscalculated sense of permanence
Adrift amongst life’s perpetual gloom?
No answers, no answers, no questions, no doom.
As peaceful self transcends action
Left stymied unresolved
Perched in some fomented hierarchy of lie dream
Waking slumber.



~ 5/24/08 3:33am Arden Garrett (my new name for my Arden apartment or perhaps a new pseudonym for the artist within). Spark: Spontaneous writing.
Also published in my blog – www.myspace.com/v32unes