(Love) Poems from My Past (The Final Prologue)

1.

One Love, Lover of One,
I’m loving and missing the mild beauty your face brings;
Sleepless in this quiet city, awake from the confusion of loneliness
Searching for you, my summer thing, while my heart sings to your morning ring;

And as I close my eyes every night to your nude curves,
The clouds of discovery open my eyes and I realize the extent of my hoping
Just before my mind slips into sleep with romantic twists and turns

One Love, Lover of One,
How you surpass this shyness that stands in our way …looses me in the finding of the door that opens your heart of honey,
And while I discover the jewels that line the path to your most precious place,
Remind me of the sound of the tone of your low moan, again and again…

Increase my faith in the essence of love that makes us what we are: lovers that sleep and wake in the gulf of uncertainty that eventually becomes a part of us while the rest of the world ignores the depth of our belief in each other

Lonely tonight, lonely every night,
Wondering how beautiful it would be if you were near,
Full of sweetness that I just wish was a martini in a glass – I would not shake; I would stir,
Then, to sip up and drink it and drain that sweetness until your taste becomes the flavor of my sensual, thirsty tongue

Come inside me and thrill the blood that flows within my veins
One Love, Lover of One,
Keep me company until my excitement expires and all that remains is the warmth of your breath on my skin as I wake in the morning…blessed because your love is here...every night.

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I think I wrote the poem above on my loneliest night in Baton Rouge. My muse was onye anyi n'eche mgbeobula ....
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2.

The strangeness of the earth gets me
Today, I saw a man who had been able to fly, over cars and airplanes
He had seen the top of the taller trees and had breathed the air from the highest hill;
But, today I saw him …
Stammering..., I saw his left hand shaking
As his lips quivered, at the words coming out of his mouth;
Now he cannot walk, barely talks, certainly has no view of the high skies
He refused to disappoint twenty thousand people sitting out in the sun to see him fly.
He has succeeded in disappointing his soul….

The strangeness of the earth gets me,
Today I walked into a city that everyone loves,
tall buildings,
dark nights,
myriad cultures
...Sachmo’s tunes,
The city weaved and bobbed and the world rocked in sync with it;
But I hated the air, the water, the snow and the rain in the city,
The city had no soul, the rhythms had no muse and made me lonelier than yesterday
Tireless places get me tired

The strangeness of the earth gets me...sober.

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3.

As I sit in the center,
These lush green fields make room for me,
Invite me to stay a little longer, resting;
The breeze serenades my necklines;
And the warm setting thaws my skin from the freezing air conditioning inside my building…
This is where I would call home.

Everything around me is unfamiliar, convoluted and contorted to make the normal madness that was common now seem strange;
Closing wounds that took eons to open; freeing my spirit to flow around the taverns of dreams that spin around my eyes each night that I lie awake in bed dreaming of you;
Yet, this is where I would call home;

So, now I stretch my brief legs as long and as far as they can go,
I lie on my back and inhale the rays of the red evening sun of this city,
And each short nap is a spasm of hypnosis where I imagine
That gentle people are regaling themselves,
Laughing around me,
Walking their dogs,
Playing Frisbee,
Jogging by the lakes,
Sitting beneath the flag of a country they love,
Sunbathing with an abandon that means hunger and want are distant strangers.

Gentle oak trees, happy people, lush green fields inviting me to stay a little longer,
And the breeze serenading my necklines….

I imagine that I am in a place where I would call home.

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You have no idea how wonderful silence & peace are all to die for.