Some Poems
That
One Time Night
Our gazes met, beginning their surreptitious sparring,
As I finished the last of the weissbier from my stein.
Wordlessly we climbed to our feet, your felt encased form,
Mirroring mine, to the German festival music swaying.
We danced on the benches, a table all in between,
Dancing, then eating and drinking, always laughing.
Each moment seeming to last into almost forever,
Us interacting, playfully getting to know one another.
The German bier festival winds down for night number
four.
A quick ride bringing us to the now vacant lake-side shore,
Numerous people set to arrive in the still distant morning.
Yet for this night, we had all of Staflesee to ourselves.
We quickly shed our clothing as
pale moonlight
Barely illuminates us, two pale creases soon swimming.
Our now wet flesh, more than liquid embraced,
Splashing, laughing, and frolicking at play.
The pale wisps of our naked bodies piercing
The bright black water, your taught, slippery form
Surging and swelling back onto the grassy bank,
Emerging at water’s edge, the warm night’s swim ends.
We two errant, single time companions, taking a last,
Lingering look at one another, as the sun breaches
The morning sky. You still linger in my thoughts,
Although we only met that once… that one time night.
Christin
I sit here, the darkness pierced gently,
By a single flame surreptitiously swaying.
The slight weight of your head resting
In my lap, a most welcome burden.
My fingers flex instinctively, yearning
To reach down and stroke your silken hair.
This short, long night, I have walked with you,
We have smelled the salt air, felt the sand
And breeze, gazed upon the now dark sky and sea.
My spirit wakes from its tumultuous slumber,
The webs of its tired sleep blown away
In the shared, cool, clear, sharp night air.
I am beginning to be me again, I become more real,
Life and attention, again permeating and pumping.
And for this I thank you. I glance down at my lap,
Seeing and feeling a perfect piece of everything,
Now gently sleeping.
Consequences
Your slender, smooth flesh
Presses back against my fingertips,
Searing your way, into my soul.
Your skin’s silken texture
Pulsates beneath my grip.
Your flawless form frightens me,
Sending continuous ripples
Through my soul, small stones
Cast unceasingly. The Wavelets
Of your presence crash in my chest,
Suffocating me, their crescendo
Rings in my ears, deafening me.
My blood seethes and boils.
The proximity of your lithe body,
Firm and complete, scatters my thoughts.
I have touched you.
I have felt your skin.
Thunder Warrior
Yellow painted lightning
Bolts upon my chest,
I a thunder warrior.
Electric current crackling
Below, above, upon my skin.
My hair inky dark, whipping
About my face, like the
Broiling clouds above
Hiding the thunder beings.
Their shadows in my eyes,
Living currents flashing.
Their passing in my ears,
Living thunder crashing.
I drink of the wind whipped rain,
Natures violent undulation unceasing.
Yellow painted lightning
Bolts upon my chest,
I a thunder warrior.
Winter
An old tree stands here of weathered wood
It has seen the pass of many sun greened years
Having seen lover’s hugs and lover’s tears
Standing for eternity as it would
Branches attempting to embrace the sky
Leaves noting passage, many breezes
Giving shade freely all this pleases
Standing calm and serene as years go by
Two young lovers romping through a bare copse
Tumbling along in winter’s snowy woods
Cold lips kissing, young spirits soaring free
Hearts warmed by love, like a shot of schnapps
Face and ears chilled, hands drawing on hoods
Stooping to admire an ice frosted tree
Tonight
We sit here side by side on this too hot night.
Others also gathered, conversations intermingling,
Stories, pictures, jokes constantly revolving.
In brief spurts, sporadic and spontaneous,
A comment made, your nose lightly crinkling,
As we respond in kind, our eyes briefly mingling.
In this split instant our beings involved,
Our shared, brief moment, too quickly dissolved.
I am surprised by the weight projected forth,
Your form so slight. I notice your hand,
Lying nearby, imagine its feel, intertwined.
Soft, smooth, warm skin holding mine.
But it is only a thought, neither of our fingers,
Forward inching. As my attention returns,
We sit here side by side on this too hot night.
Olden Bridge
An aged bridge having seen many years
Its slight wooden structure spanning a stream
Supporting many, its inherent theme
Tranquilly supporting kisses and tears
Seasons passing, leaving barely a trace
Boards constantly there, beneath winter’s sheen,
Still untouched, beside summer’s green
Eternally remaining in its place
Two lovers darting through a sunny wood
A young maiden deftly sprinting ‘tween trees
Her youthful lover chasing close behind
A game, her to be chased as he would
They continue along, a glimpse all he sees
Across an old bridge, her all to his mind
Seeing You
Every time I see you, my feelings are thrown
Into a tumultuous jumble. Wants, possibilities,
And reality unceasingly colliding and rebounding.
I want to take you in my arms. Encircle you,
In my strong embrace. I want to feel your warm
Form, within the circle of my arms. We stand
Thus together, watching the sun again descend.
You turn within my arms, adding a reciprocal
Embrace. Now I feel you pressed up against me,
The closeness of our forms, pale reflection of our
True feelings. It is good to feel you so close,
Almost like the long since lost location of the
Garden of original bliss. It is thus we kiss.
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