Sonnettics

I will my legs to move; I want to run
But damn, they move too slow to call it that
They’re healing still; I know they’re almost done
My nerves are still unsure of where they’re at
Whenever I decide to move them fast
I guess for now I’ll have to move them slow
At first they wouldn’t move at all; at last
They move the way I want my legs to go
And yet proprioceptors of my heart
Are deaf to how I feel;  I want to love
Like learning how to run, I’ll have to start
With baby-steps; it’s you I’m thinking of
I’ll take it slow, but baby, I will mend
My heart and how it loves; I need my friend.

I’m waiting for my daughter, like the Spring
When blossoms have replaced the winter snow
When birds return to treetops and they sing
I feel my daughter’s warmth, and then I know
She’ll soon be here; she’s waited long enough
I love the way she comforts me within
To be without her kisses, life is tough
I want to hold her hand, to feel her skin
She’ll put her hand in mine and let me squeeze
As softly as I can; I want to feel
Her breath upon my face as she says, “Please
Oh, daddy, let me stay with you, for real!”
The Spring will come; the sun will shine on me
And by its light, my daughter I will see.

I love your strength of body, mind, and soul
I hope you know my love for you is strong
My heart is yours; I give you full control
Although I know just where our hearts belong
Okay, “control” may not be what I meant
Although I meant your strength could take my heart
I know, my love, you’d never circumvent
My own free will; you’re not just strong; you’re smart!
I love the way you turn your strength to love
It’s strength of heart you have; I just forgot
To list it with the strengths I named above
That doesn’t mean you’re weak. Of course you’re not!
It only means my poetry is weak
When metaphors get heavy, so to speak.

2/14/2012

I love your beauty, not just what is seen
Although you look as pretty as a pearl
A pearl is only sand that comes between
An oyster and his shell, but you, my girl
You’re more than pretty sand, or even gems
Like sapphires, rubies, emeralds, diamonds too
To call them precious stones, my girl, condemns
The use of words like “precious,” but that’s you!
Your beauty is more precious than a stone
No color, cut, or clarity defines
The beauty of your heart; your heart alone
Surpasses all the riches found in mines
I love your beauty; I’m a wealthy man
You give me more than gold or silver can!

2/14/2012

I love the way you manifest your peace
Like rainbows show the end of vicious storms
And though your clouds have rain that they release
It’s by your rain that every flower forms
The peace of rainbows and of flowered fields
Display the colors of your peaceful heart
Where beauty’s peace abides and conflict yields
Where harmony and love take equal part
Your peace is balanced, like a restful day
I love to rest within your beauty’s peace
It brings the sound of words I love to say
Like poetry that makes my love increase
Come, manifest your peace within my heart
Storms have their end where rainbows have their start!

2/14/2012

I know she needs her space and needs her time
I owe her more than this; she wants to mend
I never thought her “broken;” she’s sublime
I want to be her patient, loving friend
I know I can be stupid, but I try
to earn my friend’s forgiveness when I can
I know I’ve had no right to make her cry
I know that she deserves a better man
She’s strong enough to live her life alone
She loves her girls and gives them all her heart
Compassion is a flower that she’s grown
Its beauty is her garden’s simple start.
My friend will find her way; of this I’m sure
I’ll give her what she needs; my love is pure.

Her kiss is more than simply lips to lips
It’s more than teeth and tongues and heated breath
Her kiss is more than tracing fingertips
Through lipstick red as life and deep as death
Her mouth becomes a passage to her soul
The act becomes a breach of space and time
Like chaos losing ground to self control
Or poetry surrendering to rhyme
But when she slides her hand behind my neck
And lets her hair fall all around her face
And when she knows my will is held in check
Her kiss becomes my solitary grace
My world contracts to nothing less than this
Where nothing else exists except her kiss

It’s not cliché to say I Love you more
than all the Beauty I have ever known,
than all the Love I ever felt before:
before, when I was nothing but alone.

The Truth of Love can never be cliché.
My Love for you can never be defined;
it simply is, with little more to say:
a peace of soul, of body, and of mind.

It is the place my spirit wants to be
forever, and forever, and again,
a place to know that I am truly free,
a place where I am truly welcomed in.

To live, to laugh, to Love in every way,
to say I Love you more is not cliché.

Nostalgia held my hand and walked with me
in search of love, the first time it was mine.
Our path meandered through my memory;
we stopped at each and every tell-tale sign:
at every friend I thought that I would keep,
at every hand my fingers would entwine.
I replayed all my kisses, quick or deep.
I re-read all my poems, every line;
but all the signs of love revealed the truth
that what I thought was love was just a shade,
and “first love” which I thought I’d find in youth
was not in any memory I’d made.
Nostalgia left and now I see it’s true;
my first true love is here and now, with you.

Control becomes a fantasy when lost
on darkened street, by dim unlighted door.
Though stealth and boldness didn’t count the cost;
the angel in the rain discovered more.
The flesh that trembles isn’t always weak;
the back that leans may not need such support.
I watched her pose and didn’t dare to speak
for fear mere words would weaken their report.
When hands and skin both feel the others heat
and whispers fill a lover with desires,
oblivious control has met defeat,
is ignorant of what such loss inspires.
A night of dreams of lifetime filled with love;
a peaceful morning cooing like a dove.