Over the past year or so I’ve been sharing my poetry through social media sites such as Instagram and Prose. Both are great platforms, but I think it’s important to have my work in a space that is my own, so to speak.
Anyway, that’s what brings us here. I’m making it my goal to share mini collections of five poems once a week in a series I’m calling Saturday Stanzas. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them.
Now, let’s get to this week’s collection.
Despite all appearances
even those content
in their sweetest solitude
still wish for someone
to cross their lonely path
and look at them with
the same auspicious wonder
in which the moon
gazes upon the stars.
Alone we grow as a tangled mishap,
freedoms caught in a wildflower’s dream
roots calling to devour something more
than this lonely soil lost at our feet.
Alone, we wait to be unearthed
by gentle hands made of starlight
yearning to cultivate –
heart, mind, body, soul –
like a rainstorm upon the lips
of a sun drenched earth.
Lost and lonely we scoured the cosmos
two lost souls hungry for vacant homes
where love never tasted quite the same
after nights spent tongue kissing oblivion
under the heat of rebellion’s burning sun
so we wander, dirty vagabonds among stars
drinking ourselves mad in the moonlight
while filling our lungs with the sparkling dust
of a universe that has long left us to die.
Our souls are strung together
by seas and moons and molecules.
Our eyes are remnants of galaxies
left for dead upon the skin of creation.
The universe vibrates through our cells
reflecting auras of light left unseen
save for tonight in this bed of obscurity
where we taste chaos upon silent lips
between breaths heavy with the atmosphere
while our bodies collide like meteors
hungry to litter the earth with our love.
There was always love.
But, I invariably resented
how those moments
of unabashed freedom
came in little spurts
leaving me wanting more
of that tingling excitement
as galaxies ran through
the twisting tresses
of my unbound hair.