Saturday

my eyes rise slowly before the sun
mom said when the big hand is on the 12
and little hand is on the 6
that means it's 6'oclock!
reaching for the giant black remote
my little hands conditioned to find
red power button so lonely
first press 0 then 2
"He's Winnie the pooh
Winnie the pooh
Willy nilly silly ole bear!"
eyes don't blink
all zipped up in my my pooh footed sleeper
while white walls that hold
recent finger paint projects
turn into the 100 acre woods
from the brown matted carpet
to pink and yellow flowers sprawled about
big tall trees with lots of green leaves
on the left is Pooh's house
Mr. Sanderz is etched above the door
I always wondered about his last name
"oh bother" pooh cried when the honey ran dry
so good thing pooh had friends with some honey supply
busy ole rabbit, scared lil' piglet, bouncing Tigger
cause that's what tiggers do best, and eeyore
whose best was always sad
unlike kanga and roo
and gopher too
hours passed on this morning
watching T.M.N.T, schoolhouse rock,
Batman and X-Men are a definite opt
with Bobby's World and Flintstone Kids
then Muppet Babies and Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids
not a blink gone by
eyes glued, but my body squirms
left to right
back and forth
Until mommy calls me away from my tv streak

I guess I'll have to dream the rest

My hand brushes yours
Attention with hidden intention, I know
But my glances don’t interest her
A knock with no answer because she didn’t hear the door
I still cared, didn’t she know? unfortunately not
Only her yearbook photo comforts me
Like a palm supported chin
Nights of silent glances that turn into stares that my eyes climb
Laddering the pedestal I put her on
Until I took too long
Now she’s under someone else’s arm
It would have never worked anyway
But she thrills me so
Even in passing, she’s beautiful

But this wouldn’t be the first time it didn’t work out
Not the first time I lost swagger due to doubt
Thoughts of this other girl floods my “I”s whenever my eyes meet hers
Simple questions asked but only answered with “I”s as I stutter
So in my Eros wounded state I float across weather conditions
Pursuing her soft alluring eyes across the room
Meeting her backlit by golden rays in bloom
But this ennead cloudy trip failed to mention
She was not on my connecting flight
ATTENTION PASSENGERS: The current flight is experiencing turbulence and will be making an emergency landing.

Women usually think of me as a friend
Can’t cross that sand drawn line
Mr. Sandman don’t leave me to rot
I’m still awake with this nagging and despairing forethought
Chordette that sweet tune you sing so well
Bring me a dream
Now that I’m older, women as friends is sweet but difficult blend
Harry wanted Sally, Sally rejected Harry,
Platonic friends pretending the sex doesn’t want to peak in
In my case Freudian slips become all too often,
I tried my breast
Best as I could
I guess I'll have to dream the rest


She expected me to simply just sleep next to her
Cuddling ain’t sex as much as partying ain’t drinking
Roused, I can’t catch 40 winks
Instead I count threads in the sheets
All night my mind thinks
My boxer shorts mountain peak
If I could I would dream the rest
Caress a thigh or maybe a
I guess I'll have to dream the rest

You know what? She’s not on top of her game
Responding to my text 5 hours later
Too passive to flirt back or tell me how she feels
Creeping up on 30 and you want me to kneel
Holding doors but not holding hands
Oh I’m sorry she is too busy to plan
Too busy to return calls
I suggest adventures; she leans back with eyes that venture
And with the meal I just paid for and now she digests
I guess I'll have to dream the rest

Why does phone tag and flirtatious texts to this chica intrigue me?
Car trips up I-85 into unfamiliar territory
Voice messages and schedule conflicts obstacle all interactions
So mutual meetings become as frequent as the moon blue
Recurrent as nights too long that sunrise seems to west too long
A Sarah Michelson type thing I imagine between us
I guess I'll have to dream the rest

I remember enjoying the profile her big pearl smile
During late nights watching my favorite films
Her rosy skin TV lit
Even once this sugar brown thing and me talked like best friends on the phone
All night long like long beach walks
But high school conversations like blackboard chalk
Exists usually like pedestrians on sidewalks
I guess I'll have to dream the rest

Another time I remember making this beauty from across the table laugh
Distracting her in a college class
I had no game I’ll act a childish ass just to get her attention
One summer every Saturday spending that $1.82 on strawberries n’ crème twisslers
That young lady at the video store gained all my money
Just to have small talk that went nowhere
Something must have been wrong with her anyway I thought
Just my immature way of dealing with it
I guess I'll have to dream the rest

Whether mahogany silk, sweet olive tan, or a hue of rosy peach
Attempts to maintain the initial spark is not always reached
Doubts and vague explanations of how I feel shade my interactions
Frustrating every woman
Making commitments seems out of reach
So I‘ll just work to improve and transgress
Invite lustful daydreams, good taste of course fully dressed
With an umbrella to keep from getting wet
I look forward to goodnights that sponsor opportunity
Again I am awaken from a dream of love
Loved the dream I dreamed
I loved her in the dream I hug
Counting sheep until I pass out into a deep sleep
Though my heart may break when I awake
Because Good mornings shepherd Heartache
But until then I guess I'll have to dream the rest

Ijustwantowrite

Writing in the dark, I need no light
So with no sight
I Stevie Wonder paper like keys
But I’m not Ms. At least she can see
Keys of life
From left to right
I write
Brandishing this pen of
Cause the sword has lost this fight
I fold my legs and clench my pen
Madly spilling thoughts
Onto any available source
Whether wide or college ruled,
Papyrus or napkin

I just want to write
So I can puppeteer metaphors and similes
choreographing ink like dancers
dancers whose feet scribe imagery through ink
or graphite
When they dance eyes don’t blink
But this darkness serves as performance blinders
So with no clear plot visible
Improvisation moves my hand across the page
As a result this pen continues mobilizing words to reach out
grabbing all readers any age
thought gathers adjectives that qualify
Nouns and pronouns,
Given life and character by
verbs and adverbs I enable
Slowly
Like a train building steam
Steam that shadows light as eyelids shadow dreams