Trespasses (Kiss Me)

Give me that trespass

so sweetly urged

and when you’re through

we’ll take a moment to breathe

and I, I’ll give it back to you

I’m not much for praying

but if we can

let lips do what hands do

I think I could happily

spend my life praying with you

Let’s stay in this moment

there’s no better scene

let’s draw the curtains

play out the whole thing

where you and I will never be seen

If you’re not certain

then you play the saint

and by your lips I’ll purge my sin

if you’re discontent

with my sins on your lips

I confess

I’m ready and eager for you

to give me my sin again

Don’t go when you’re called

stay, Juliet, stay

starstruck not starcrossed

and we’ll never care

whether a nightingale's or lark’s song

fills the bright morning air.

Let’s be in this moment

there’s no better scene

let’s draw the curtains

play out the whole thing

where you and I will never be seen

Give me that trespass

so sweetly urged

and when you’re through

we’ll take a moment to breathe

and I, I’ll give it back to you

Furniture

Furniture

When I come home

tired from my day at work

I want to sink in to your warm embrace

the way I do

when I collapse with relief

into the arms of an easy chair

I want your head

to nestle on my shoulder

and breathe me

the way you do

when you steal my pillow

after I leave in the morning

I want us to pose

like some sculpture 

you picked up 

at the antique shop 

down the street

a pair of lovers 

locked in a kiss

Some days we’ll come in together

dressed like coat racks

to keep us safe from the cold

We’ll sheer each other 

shed our woolen winter skins

and do our playful best

to figure out who makes the better bed

Lyrical!

I self-published an e-chapbook of 14 poems/lyrics called Lyrical. It's free, so if you're interested in a copy send me an email at thequintessentialpoet@gmail.com and I'll send you one.

We All Want Love

We all want love but let’s stop wanting love right now, right this moment. We can’t get love at the drive through window. Love isn’t a fast food. It’s not a greasy, artery clogging hamburger with fries and a large drink. It’s not a menu item and you can’t super size it nor order it any way you want. When we’re hungry for love, we can’t pull it out of the fridge and stick it in the microwave. Instead, let’s want companionship, conversation, a good start. Let’s be on the receiving end of a great smile, a welcome laugh. I think we’ll find that when the time comes, if we ask for a friend, an activity partner, someone interesting to spend an evening with, love will come on its own. Love is like homemade bread. Gather your ingredients. Mix them together. Knead the dough, shape it. Let it rise for a while. Bake it. A good loaf of bread takes patience. So does love.

We all want love but let’s stop expecting it. Let’s stop feeling entitled to it. Love is an art, a skill. Keep a beginner’s mind. Every time you put yourself out there, you’re starting over with a blank slate, a blank page, an untouched piece of wood or stone. Every time you put yourself out there, you’re asking another artist to add their opinion. No matter how brilliant you both are, no matter how much you see eye to eye, you’re going to have to struggle to work together on this masterpiece. Love doesn’t come gift wrapped. Let’s stop asking it to be.

We all want love, but let’s stop hurrying toward it. Love is not a race. It’s not about winning a heart but earning one. If you treat love as a goal, you’ll miss out on the journey and the journey doesn’t have a destination. Love is a long walk around a lake. Sometimes the view is breathtaking. Part of the path may be sunny and part of it may be shaded. The path will climb and fall. Sometimes you walk together in silence and sometimes you learn something new from a passionate conversation or just remember good times you've spent together. You may get frustrated by the litter some careless hiker left upon the ground. The possibilities of this walk are endless. When the walk is over, you’ve simply come back home and you’ll rest and start again.

We all want love but let’s believe in eventualities. Let’s ask for what we can have now and build on those foundations. Someone like me will ask you to dance, to sail, to drink wine and coffee, to listen to him play guitar and sing. On the occasional beautiful day, he may even ask you to take a walk around the lake. Or play frisbee golf. Think about what you want to ask him. And then, perhaps, as you sit in the car, next to each other on a park bench talking beneath the trees or across the table at breakfast you’ll discover that somehow, you’ve fallen “accidentally in love.” 

The Red String of Destiny

 In America, some people believe in soul mates, or true love, two people who are meant to be together in exclusion of all others. I don't particularly hold to this, that there's only one right person out there for everyone. In Japan (though it originated in Japan), the talk about the red string of destiny, which ties two people together. It may be a long string, have knots or tangles, but it's tied around the finger of these two people. I really like the imagery of it, it's much more appealing and visceral than "souls". It's arguable whether it's limited to love. I'd have to do more research. 

    The following poem was written with this in mind. Akai Ito is Japanese for "red string".

"An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet,

regardless of time, place, or circumstance.

The thread may stretch or tangle,

but it will never break."

- an ancient Chinese belief

Akai Ito

Where does this red string go?

It goes out the door,

stretches down winding roads.

It is wet in the places it crosses rivers or streams.

Or is that the ocean?

It passes so quickly over the horizon.

Sometimes the other end feels close,

but there is only another knot

typing up the hands of the clock.

When the tangle unravels

I lose sight of it again.

I wonder

if the other end is half a world away or down the street

around the corner, tied to some bright smile

that lights up whenever I speak.

Where does this red string go?

All I know is somewhere

there's someone at the end.

Short of Breath

Short of Breath

And this love,

which for once didn't seem to burn

on the fuel of the not quite unrequited,

this is the love I sang of:

the star crossed,

tangled knot twist of fate

the prayer she'd never let go

wave-borne to crash

against the rocky shore

where it now lies

beached and gasping,

the tide of possibility and desire

rushing back to sea

so constantly just out of reach,

a storm that left behind

only the frantic need to relearn how to breathe

this essence of life that we call air,

this necessity which, in the short, exquisite

hourglass of this love,

was replaced by something

more intoxicating, entrancing, encompassing,

and more precious than oxygen.

Myself and Somebody Like You

     Another set of lyrics without music. Another of my endless love songs for no one. I think, perhaps, that when they become love songs for someone (or somebody), they'll probably still hold on to that feeling. But that's a story unwritten.

Myself and Somebody Like You

Lookin' ahead

I know we're getting closer

Lookin' ahead

I can almost see you

day by day 

the picture's getting clearer

like the way home 

on a winter night.

So the road's been long

so the way's been winding

who cares when the journey's end

is just the start

I know there's a greater adventure

for myself and somebody like you.

Lookin' back

things are still a little fuzzy

Like I've had a few too many, that's right

I can't tell

if it's all hist'ry

or if there's a story that's yet to be told

So the road's been long

so the way's been winding

who cares when the journey's end

is just the start

I know there's a greater adventure

for myself and somebody like you.

Lookin' at me now

I know there's one life we're living

one red string 

though it's tied in knots

if you follow its path I know that you'll find me

like the way home

it just feels right.

So the road's been long

so the way's been winding

who cares when the journey's end

is just the start

I know there's a greater adventure

for myself and somebody like you.

and I know for the rest of my life

it'll be

just myself

and somebody like you

just myself and somebody like you.