The Art of Skyscraping

Our love is like a fire,

That burrows in the soul,

Consuming, with it, the heart.

Our passion is no wet match

But, instead, a torch

That lights the way to happiness.

No other woman,

No other girl,

Could ignite such a blaze in me.

For you, darling, are my tender,

My kindling,

My fuel.

And with you

My fire, my passion,

Will never die.

My love is like a bomb

Undetected, until the blast,

Taking many.

And though I cried,

Peace! Peace! Peace!

I secretly foretold the end.

Then the tragedy that always befalls,

Leaves you sad and dying.

Yet you forgive,

Hence the armistice.

I hate, I hate, I hate,

Me not you.

The bomb explodes again,

Your mercy tested twice.

And so I die,

Not by my hand,

But by yours.

Her face is aglow

To all those who know

That God, she would never beseech

Because beauty is never out of her reach.

A rivulet runs through my soul

Taking, with it, the feelings I had

For the sweet Marie.

And as it erodes, each memory

Is carried further away from me.

For no other memory felt so sad

Then of Marie who made me whole.

The rivulet is flowing smoothly

Hopefully curing my melancholy.

Never likely, never so.

Of a greater love,I will never know.

The light of millions

Shine at midnight.

Different passions,

Concealed in fright

Of daytime watchers

Peering in.

Only nights

Can hide their sin.

Beacon dreams,

Safe from sight.

The light of millions

Shine at midnight.

Bottomless

I feel when I’m alone

A hunger for something

More filling than meat

More quenching than

The spring

A hunger for something

Required to be whole

I thought I knew of one such thing

Though love proved not its definition

(Chance can be so cruel)

Many months and

Numerous years

Have healed the wound

Though the scar and the hunger

Remain

Knuckles clenched

White

As the snow

That covers her grave

Vengeance, anger, fire

I feel

Only because 

There is no one

To blame

I am very lonely STOP

On this train ride STOP

From home to brief work out-of-state. STOP

My only thoughts are of you. STOP

I met a lovely stewardess STOP

And talked to her about you. STOP

I miss you. STOP

My only fear STOP

Is that you’ll leave me STOP

While I’m gone STOP

And that when that happens STOP

My only thoughts STOP

On the train ride home STOP

Will be of you. STOP

In the darkness,

We found each other.

In the shadows, we stay.

But the light of the morning

Is invading the day

And the love songs we sing

Shatter in morrow light.

As gold the enemy of Jaiet.

Oh how our love clings to night!

This gleam a threat,

Warned by mother,

Will leave us wanting less.

I am nothing.

You are everything.

To express it simply,

With no other connotations,

I want you

And nothing else.

In this dark

Cataclysmic world,

You are the beacon of hope

That breaks through the shadows

Of my fractured self.

The Monotonous creak of rubber against concrete

Where lost is the void between

North and south

Up and down

Home and homeless

A wild right takes you to

West End Avenue

The Slums

Hell

You’ve seen these things, these places, many times before

You are a wanderer

A drifter

Forgotten by the desolate city you inhabit

Home is not home

Hell is not Hell

Dreams are not real

And loneliness shall haunt you all the days of your life

This is not the path you’ve chosen

But it is the path you travel

Your journey ends when you end

And the dust you leave behind will rise and join

The smog above the streets

For summer is coming

The first summer without you

I have died

Once before.

Not a mortal death

But a

Spiritual

Lover’s death.

And it is only

Between

Mortal lovers

That this occurs.

And that,

My friends,

Is 

The real

Tragedy.

It is only me

Alone with her.

Separate thoughts

In a silent room.

No one dares to speak;

No one ever will.

The man was walking down the street

On a mild springtime day

When he came across a bird

Perching on a telephone wire.

It quickly flew away and

Lowering his head, the man sadly said,

“I am the telephone wire.”

The sound of flapping wings

And bird songs in the trees

Remind me of something

I cannot remember

Rushing water off the falls

Harmonize with the bluebird’s calls

Feelings of woe fill my soul

I cannot remember

A woman maybe

Yes 

A lover?

I cannot remember

Love will always bloom 

Where I am not

It is always this way

I cannot remember