Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Simple Tastes
















Simple Tastes

A man recently told me he has simple tastes
and I wanted to pull him close to me
and tell him there is a big difference
in wanting less and expecting nothing
We are our expectations
and it's easy to forget as one day turns to another
as the leaves of fall are crushed under
winter snows and then somehow
disappear when spring approaches
it's so easy to forget who we are
and what we want
And we wait because polite people wait
we wait to hear what we need to hear
believing that want is selfish
like we wait for the tulips to push
and push and push
their arrival expected to help mark another season

And how to tell someone you love
someone you love ferociously
that they are supposed to expect more from the world
and not risk the insult
that if you leave want unwatched
that boiling pot will grow
to a mighty fire and all you will want to do
is scorch the earth

You will wake one day and want everyone
who ever uttered the words I love you
to notice that you haven't been the same
that your blue eye doesn't shine as bright
that you haven't been the same person for quite some time
and while the earth was revolving
inside you were evolving and aren't we we all?
and inside we turn and we twist
just to get to the problem trying to understand the gist
avoiding at all costs
that empty little hole right next to
the aortic valve

In that hole is a little piece of you waiting to hear
"I need you inside me"
waiting to kiss someone who isn't kissing you
to say hello or goodbye
where life is not so polite and so carefully planned
where chaos rules the day
and you can't quite taste the tip of your tongue
you're willing to bite off to avoid any moment of crisis
where wonky girls live to steal your heart
and take it on a picnic near the stream
where there are so many trout that they wave
as they swim by
wave to lovers on a blanket in the middle of a wednesday afternoon
when the whole world is working
pushing one paper into another

It's ok to want the sweetest wine
to run over that thirsty tongue
Our mothers arent watching
and the priest is sleeping
and all that is here is you and I
the gentle reader who steals into my day
to whisper thoughts I dreamed of in my garden
where you and I were having a conversation
years above you ever said hello in a whisper
in a library late at night
while I read you poetry
of a heart's desire



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and if you are wondering why taking what you want in the now is so important, something to remind you...

1 comment:

fdcw said...

How I love following the curents of your heart.