14 06 2009

I wanted to see her on Friday

To take a trip to Because

To eat crunchy food in the crunchy sunlight

While enjoying the savory breeze,

And we did.

Fridays are best served crunchy

Though butter makes them more acute

But they are still great

And the waitress may have outdone the sunshine today.

Talking to her means severance

But not from anything static and motionless

Because motion, whether centrifugal or reactionary,

Is the only way bodies gravitate.

I came back the next morning

But the waitress was gone,

So she did not serve me tea.

Although I have discovered

That waitresses make great mothers

But terrible wives

Contrary to

My prejudices.


31 01 2009

Nobody really knows just what Nostalgia is

Some say it grows, some say it festers

Some say it just is

Lying in the middle of the night entombed in sleep

No stronger arms will pull you, than Nostalgia’s,

To the deep

Catatonic lullabies and lustful memories

Child’s dreams and parent’s screams

Are to Nostalgia bound

Did you hear what Charlie did?

Have you seen him since?

Perhaps Nostalgia will not find him,

Or his service bid.

Sarah was a beauty queen

But crowns can weigh so much

On her way to claim the throne

She fell down at His touch.

Nostalgia finds, Nostalgia grows

Within hearts and without

But what Nostalgia binds to us

Is by our fears brought out

Show me the beauty of my call

Show me what past days hide

Nostalgia’s feints are growing thin

But am I left inside?

Melancholy musings lying thick upon my floor

Four-chambered heart beats endlessly

Outside my screen door

No starling can assume this throne

Nor can I abdicate

For only by Nostalgia’s hand

Can Love become the Great

Remember now, the times we had

Do not forget years gone

For if you do not know your night

You’ll never find the dawn.