Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Lighthouse

When would be a good time
to throw pebbles at your window?
I'm planning to rock your world.

I wrote you a poem on poster boards,
so that the words can mirror
the magnitude of the feelings within them.

Coast Guard certified shipping,
out on a rescue mission.
The scarlet seas are glistening,
calling me softly, listen.

I think you can read the signs;
I found a lighthouse housing:
this sunshine of mine.

I go blind just thinking of you.
I think I might have lost my sight,
for ever.

I want you to see every line
in every letter,
so that you can read between them,
into their composition.

This is what is real to me-
symbols,
cymbals-
crashing in the distance

Never saw it coming-
blindside collision
with the visions of my dreams
transcended to me.

I'm swimming against your fears,
near enough for you to hear,
me pulling you closer.

This is how fate is transmitted

It is written,
for thee.

1 comment:

  1. You're ma favorite writer in all of this big, burning universe. Pebbles.

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