Sonnettics

My tears are short, they don’t slide off my face
I cry them from a stifled, sullen place
I cry them for the losses that I feel
My tears are short, but you can see they’re real
My body shakes with sadness like it’s hot
I like to think I’m whole, but I am not
I’m only whole when love is in my arms
She wants my tears; she wants my subtle charms
I pull my paper quickly from my book
It’s blank. I turn it over, turn to look
at life below the teardrops, short and round
there’s nothing really blank, I think I’ve found
a poem that reveals what I surmise
of tears I cry; it matters what the size.

They call me single now: I have no wife
I have a ringless finger, and my heart
feels empty, but I want to share my life
with you, because my poetry is part
of who I am. I want you for my muse
Come hide your beauty well within my verse
Between your beauty and yourself, I’d choose
your self. Your skin’s a play. Let’s go rehearse
If I could make a lyric with your name
I’d write a sonnet, volta would be bliss
to turn from words to song and sound the same
I’d turn my face to yours and take a kiss
Come kiss this single man and I am yours
True love may end, but poetry endures,

I laughed about my injury today
I tried to think what “normal” was and failed
I wondered what the “normal” folk would say
if asked what they thought “normalcy” entailed
I hate to think that “normal” is my goal
I’d rather strive for Beauty, there I find
the friends who’ve been attracted to my soul
who’s love can calm and bring me peace of mind
I wonder what I used to be and why
I don’t fit in with “normal” anymore
I know that thought’s important so I try
to check my laughter at the “normal” door.
I know my thoughts and injury are real
But I will save some thoughts for when I heal.

Beside her skin I’m warm; her skin is soft
She calms me like a poet calms his verse
I’ve curled beside my lover like this, oft
Though now I sleep alone; alone is worse
Each breath I take, I take to taste her skin
I breathe because she gives me life to live
I want to live with her and live within
her beauty. If I sin, she will forgive
And yet, I only want to do what’s right
I want to curl up naked by her form
Her form is heaven-sent, it’s smoothe and white
Because she sleeps with me, her skin is warm
To touch her is the truth that comes from dreams
To love her is beyond the warmth it seems.

Her patience is a star, her love, the moon
She pulls upon my seas; I see her light
Her beauty in my life is none too soon
In darkest skies my Mari shines so bright
There was a time my ship wrecked in a storm
I drifted to an island, where I lay
The wind was cold, my dreams of Mari, warm
as she became the sun to light my day
I’ve traced her constellation with my hand
Her orbits of me make a perfect sphere
If in a rocket ship, I’d want to land
My Mari is too far; I want her near
I’ll follow her, regardless of the cost
Celestial Mari guides me when I’m lost.

We didn’t plan to stop, but stops will come
We kept our bikes in tune; our wheels would hum
But Lake Oneida’s air was cold as hell!
I’m glad I rode with Mari. Why? I’ll tell.
She has more common sense than me, I’m sure
She knew we needed warmth and where we were!
She found MacDonald’s, stopped, and went inside
I sat with her; we nursed our wounded pride
She made me drink hot chocolate, no demand
But gratefully I drank, then held her hand
Our fingers warmed enough to shift or brake
I’m glad that Mari knew what we could take
I’m also glad she likes hot chocolate, too
“Dear Mari, I’d ride anywhere with you.”

She danced and I wrote poetry; we met
Her beauty was a truth I can’t forget
Our friendship blossomed well beyond that night
She taught me words that I could never write
Her name, Rachelle, became a clearer note
than anything I’d heard, so then I wrote
her name beside my name within my heart
and hoped our names would never be apart
Some days went slow; some days went all too fast
Then months, then years, she married me at last
Thus, name to name, I took her hand in mine
I kissed my bride and thought she was divine
One happy day she brought to me our son
I thought that day our lives had just begun

At 2 a.m. her voice is shedding sleep
Beneath the sleep her sweet emotions rise
Now naked, they have promises to keep
From where I am I don’t divert my eyes
I’ve seen her all; I love her all, exposed
Emotions can be naked in her speech
Our time zone difference means she is reposed
She isn’t close at all, but I can reach
my own emotions, tender at her voice
along the line we’ve opened through the night
then let my own emotions have the choice
of nakedness, although they’re out of sight
I choose to let them bare with hers, the same
because I feel her frequency, un-tame.

Her voice is not awake; I feel it stretch
It spreads itself across my starving skin
If she were in my room I’d let her etch
her nails upon my arms; she’d let me in.
Our naked, soft emotions would find haste
in places where our bodies long to taste.

I miss the way you lean your head on me
and how it feels right then to kiss your cheek
So close I tell myself that we can be
together, sharing kisses, then you speak:
“I love you, Scott,” I dream I hear you say
“I love you too, and wish that you were here.”
I dread the thought of spending one more day
alone, without my whispers in your ear
Come lean your head upon me, wrap your skin
around my shoulders, hands upon my back
From there I’m close enough to be within
From here I feel you too, and yet we lack
Your warmth is always with me gorgeous friend
I miss so much of you we’ll never end!

For loss I held my breath; the air was pure
My camoflage was mottled and obscure
I wore it so that I’d be sanctified
if I inhaled or even if I tried
The inhalation came within my chest
I held it in; I thought that that was best
For no one gives a damn what I take in
but exhalation is a cardinal sin
The CO2 demanded that I yell
and in the air so pure I should expel
the molecules of grime my body held
I swallowed once; I turned, and then I yelled
I know my breath was hidden in the cost
of filthy air where purity was lost.