Some Poems I Found

From the past few years. If they have no titles, the date they were written is substituted. Enjoy:

November 21, 2001
Rusty cogs work
a dirty machine,
never cleaned,
only used.
Sunlight fades the paint,
chipped and cracked,
peeling and scarce.
The crank turns endlessly,
another forgotten part,
the laborer and the forsaken.

---

The Itsy-Bitsy (Fall 2004)
One single strand that a spider has spun
From the bench to the tree carefully hung,
Sways steadily suspended by the smallest sin,
As hiding spider pretends he's not in.

What miniscule fly will catch on this thread?
Noseeums are not good to eat it is said.
When sadism breaks it with wind or with rain,
The spider will just rebuild it again.

---

The Leaf (Fall 2004)
The leaf that does not cling
shows courage in it's faith--
its landing will be soft,
its short life not in vain.

---

Blue Upon Blue (Fall 2004)
When mountains revert
To lilac chalk dust
And the tumescent glow of sun
Is a flickering neon sign,
Meet me in the meadow.

Your palette is full, my brushes
Broad,
We can paint ranges
Amber and amethyst
Until our pigment runs dry.

The sun now tucked in bed
Leaves moon and stars in its stead
We lie on our backs and sketch
The sky blue
Upon blue.

Awake with me as the sun
Peeks its head above our horizon,
Stretches arms over covers.
We will watch the sunrise paint us
Crimson, ochre, emerald.

---

November 3, 2003
My love for you
is oh-so-monstrous;
with fangs and claws,
and scales and fear.
Its low, deep growl
draws you closer;
its shining teeth
keeps you near.
A tentacle slithers
to draw you deep,
to take your heart,
and devour your soul.
The monster in me
wants nothing less
than your love to return
the passion it stole.

---


Illusion (November 3, 2003)
I do not wear lipstick,
the shades are too deep;
they embarass the lips that they wear.

I won't let you kiss me,
your passion's too true;
makes my love for you seem dull and bare.

I can't write a poem,
or compose a song;
a pen can't express how I feel.

The truth is a seeker,
and it will find you;
Beauty's rose will no longer seem real.