Eden

West-Texas-oil-fields

Eden

I suppose in my mind,
that clanks like the tiny brass gears of a broken clock,
that Eden is in the eye of the beholder.
For many,
Eden is a quantitative term.
“A place of non destructive production.”
While others might maintain,
“It is where the waters run cool
and clear the ghosts that visit and stray.”
Or  “A place where once,
at least for a time,
everything seemed right in faith and facts.”
But I have been there.
It was the noisiest place cloaked in silence I have ever been.
The Eden where need
is replaced by absolute greed.
Where hunger is fed
with solitude.
Where the meek remain meek
and the holy are not.
I have now,
I think,
travelled far enough apart
from the Eden of my past,
as viewed through the eyes of my youth,
to come to that place
where quiet desperation
is replaced by inspiration,
where “eden” is just a word,
and the wisdom of lifetimes
can be found in a song.

 


Poem began in 2010 while working in the oilfields of West Texas and finished tonight.

Satellite image of West Texas oilfields.

These things I shouldn’t say – Love between the lines

IMG_5237

I’m fucking drained
and going to bed…


 

…but before I go
I wanted to say
I really do wish you were here.

I long for your touch,
not anyone else’s.
Your affection.
Your love.
Your attentions.

I ache to feel you next to me,
to taste you on my lips
and my tongue,
to feel the warmth of your whisper
on my neck,
in my ear.

I wish to count
the beats of your heart
and the rise
and fall
of your perfect breasts
with each sweet breath.

I dream of losing myself
in your eyes,
those gateways
to your blazing soul
that shines brighter
than any
I’ve ever encountered.

I suffer with a hunger to enter you
slowly
intentionally
and feel our souls join
and merge
as One.

Then
breath by breath,
and beat by beat
of your beautiful heart,
which keeps our rhythm,
to witness you lose yourself
to the ecstasy
of our perfect union.

I desire so much
so much better
so much better for you
than I am.

I want you to receive
all those things;
the passion
and fire
and intensity
and experience
and depth of heart
and soul
and all the delights
of physical love
from someone
who truly
deserves you.

I am not that man.

So I’m glad that you’re not here
(though “glad” is not the right word
to describe how I feel)
because I don’t ever
want you to settle.

Not even for me.

 

So instead I say nothing
except “sweet dreams”
and leave the words here
as a prayer
and a promise
of unconditional love
and hope
that if you should read them
you at once know the reason
for these things I shouldn’t say
is love.


 

Sweet dreams.


these.things.i.shouldnt.say


Image: “You can do it” by Robert Cornelius

When I think of you – 1993

eternity

The shine of the sun,
can not compare to your smile.

The summer birds
will never hear the song of your eyes.

A thousand angels
could not quiet the allure of your voice.

The unfolding of a flower
does not match your beauty.

A starless night
will not hide your sparkle.

A perfect dance
can not seduce me like your ways.

An autumn breeze
could never comfort me like you do.

The glow of the moon
will not affect me while you are near.

The largest ocean
does not meet the depth of your soul.

So how could I ever tire of you?
How could I walk away?

When these are the things I think of you,
when I think of you every day.


 

Written for my first wife before we were married. She didn’t like it 🙂

Why the cold walks – from 12/30/2014

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This enemy forged from ice threatens the meager armor I wear to protect myself from its invasive presence. It creeps in wherever I let my guard down and assumes control of the warmth that gives me life. It spreads across the inside of my goggles like a virus in an attempt to blind my steps and makes a wall of my own warm breath against thin shield of cloth that covers my face.

It is the greatest adversary I can imagine. An assassin of the highest caliber. The cold has always been my greatest weakness.

Yet in it I find my greatest strength.

Through the frost that limits my vision I see, clearly, the path that I am on. In every stiffened step I feel the world spin beneath me in the syrupy chaos of space. In each labored breath I receive a promise of life.

It has become my ally, and though my trust does not extend beyond the knowledge that it will crush me on my first mistake, I embrace it as friend.

 


Image by J.M.Greff

For my brother, Steven, so he knows my winters aren’t all “stogies and computers”.