Scrawled in the Sand

I hear the gentle chop of the sea

Where this love be stills my heart

My cries set the early morning free

And the miles that tear us apart

The air reached its weight capacity 

How tangible this subtropical night

Drowning me with its balmy opacity

Before the dawn’s tranquil light

If you ever feel a draft

I’ll be the one against your skin

The mighty clouds have laughed

But the sun won’t let them win

I wait on the shore as it rises

A reflection of you fades from my side

Just another of my fate’s guises

Washing the life from me come high tide

 

Mi Fughetta

In the blatant stall of summer’s blaze
Where willows dare not weep

The quiet symphony my soul plays

And into your heart should seep

Yet the metronome has been counting time

And maybe the rhythm’s not right

Just reset the crescendo’s descent and climb

A weeping willow’s blight

Then it’s all staccato and loud

Chasing you away

A brilliant roll of a thunderous cloud

The drummer has to play

Stellar as it seems

Magnificence does fall

The beauty of your heart’s surrender

To my love song after all

Farewell to the King

Watch the sun say goodnight
And the stars first shine their light

Gazing into my eyes

Filled with wonder and surprise

This is where you need to be

On the sand

Squeezing my hand

Over my head

Inhaling every word I said

About this affinity I have for you

As your eyes glisten a deep timeless blue

And the path of time, the sea, it paves

While the stars waltz upon those wanton waves

Diffusing the glare

Of lost wishes and care

I know I’ll never be subpoenaed to speak the truth

Of my heart and head and your lips of vermouth

Subdued, I surrender with a sigh

Alone I dream on under a champagne veil of the evening sky

Seaside Escape 

I revisit those memories,
A touch of the past,
A shop filled with broken antiques,
Where I still cannot pick up the pieces.
Echoes of memories,
Ramblings of the sea,
the grains of sand and shards of shells
Bore the test of time
Just like me
Frayed but not forgotten
Like a porcelain doll’s
Yellowed dress and faint musk  
Time’s enveloped passive touch
Roars at the indignity of want
Raw, fleeting,
Gone
Off a forgotten shelf
And mindless of the future,
Out the shop’s door
And into oblivion,
An old memory no more

Unsung Psalm

Love is not gentle

Nor it is kind
It’s violent in the ways it flails about in failure
After having tried to scream it out
In the cold vacuum of the night
Voiceless and naive 
Believing in its own power
Loud are the pangs of want
Lost in the stridor of petulance 
Digging deeper into the chasm of a collapsing crescendo
A song, a kiss, a life choking out its last moment of need
Beyond love’s finality and austerity looms impatience 
Say nothing of kind and gentle once more

Tucked Away in My Pocket

The soft denim, my jeans washed, yet this lint is like a tyrant marching his troops across a sea of wild flowers
I summon it from the battlefield 
I was too fucking demure to wear my sexy skirt and go without panties
I’m not a whore, but I’d let you treat me that way
(Pull my hair as I drink you in)
The shots and a pitcher of beer I want to enjoy with you remain as folded Hamiltons and Washingtons, along with lusterless and luckless ching-chang Lincolns that’ll be washed and fuzzy for my next hop here
I think your attention fell onto another time and place where your heart is tethered 
So I sit in awkward silence,  fiddling around with my phone, praying that you’d wonder about this girl by herself, and join me for a round or two
These moments here shall sink deep into the pit of pennies and desire