Wednesday, February 17, 2010

those roses

Those roses
turning from red to blue
settling into an image
not so different from when
I offered them upon
the altar of love
They are not dying
or losing their appeal
just changing, transforming
the idea is the same
These have no thorns
but our love does
There is blood and pain
along with the valentine
Yet, like the roses
We will persist, changing
from red to blue and
sometimes to black and blue
part of the boquet I suppose

Friday, February 12, 2010

Routines



Routines

I rose and plodded into the pre-planned
Shower-water
Today no shampoo, tomorrow yes
Dried with the beige towel
Fitted on my comfortable sensibles
Sat before measured oatmeal
Filled a thermos with coffee
Placed an apple, an orange, a banana
Into a recently washed clothe bag
Drove 5.5 miles to the reservoir
Put on my certain soft shoes
Walked 2.4 miles around
Looked at the lake at given points
Searched for the blue heron
Listened to the geese in flight
Drove 5.8 miles to work
Listened to that morning show
On radio, mostly Mozart
Parked underground, gave up my keys
Walked approximately four blocks
Put a badge around my neck
Entered through the same door
Road the steel elevator to the basement
Checked my e-mail, opened a window
Drank the coffee and thought of you
Of that night we became eachother
Holding on and letting go
Loving with reckless abandon
That love smashed down the fences
Roared out over the Pacific Ocean
Turned the tight spool of my heart
Into a whirring blur of line
Like taking a blue marlin
On heavy-test
In the Sea of Cortez
I soared above the San Gabriels
Head up, breathing sweet clean air
Heart pounding, blood coursing
Like wild horses exploring the canyon floor
At a full gallop without concern
For the next bend in the trail
No bounds, no boundaries
Not a care in the world

Except when will I see you again.