I Should Learn To Write


I’ve heard it said unrequited love is the fuel that burns the poet’s heart
well, this one is a raging inferno
A fiery testament to loves drowning resolve
Its flames fan out
ahead of my meager words,
past all I would view as practical yet,
never igniting even
the driest of brush

I have waited for you,
a lifetime

Have I not been patient enough?

Am I not deserving of your love?

Is it my destiny to always live with this burning desire,
this, discontented sentiment

Then perhaps I should learn to write

Become a poet or a blacksmith
My heart could heat brands of my own design
Glowing red hot verses,
I could burn to your eyes

Would you see me then?

Would you understand?

I might compare you to the sunrise
if not for the fact that your beauty extends far beyond its rays

Or the moon
but, there are times when a simple cloud can veil its existence

I could tell you that
I wish your whispers to rest
tenderly on pillows
and softly disappear
into the quiet of night or
that I long to hear your throaty,
moans and heavenly sighs
echo throughout this room,
until they melt away
and evaporate into the safety
of these thirsty walls


Or as others have done;
I could use the gentle flowing river,
a serene meadow,
the vast stars or the common flower
and these would suffice, for most

But, not for you

You are a rarity on this earth
and my love for you is more deserving than a cliché

More complex than I can explain

Yes I should learn to write

With you as my muse
My inspiration
My tablet
Words to give you sight
Rhyme to lend credence to my phrase
Entire books devoted to you, to love

Kisses would fall
in perfect verse
Touch will liquefy
any resistance
and passion will ignite in you that which
has forever burned in me
my love
for you

A longing deeply rooted in the sedimentary rock
of my bed, my foundation
Only then will I become whole

Only then will I realize life’s worth
and shed this moniker of Spartan

I can join the ranks of the living,
the loved
The men who breathe free
The awake

I should learn to write

For you
For me
For all those who feel nothing
and for the ones that know how I feel
without you

Without love





kc09

what beautiful, moving additions to your collection

thank you pk

always appreciated...

Cherish



your eyes
are the way
in which
i see the world

your hands
are the way
i dream
to be touched

your whispers
are the winds
of today
that carry me to
the hope
of tomorrow

your skin
oh, that skin
warm and
soft to the touch
a delight to taste

and your love…

i know it’s mine
mine to have
or to lose
mine to nurture
and mine
to destroy

so today
and from
this day forth
know that
i love you
know that i
cherish each
and every moment
with you

from the gentile
touch of your
loving heart
to the sweet,
savory kiss
of your delicate
lips

from the coded looks
we share in public
to the knowing caress
of your sleeping
breath

it’s all
of this
and so
much more

the long talks
and the silence
that sometimes
accompanies
understanding
the safe place
where you hide
my secrets and house
my fears

it’s the way
you go beyond
my flesh
and peer deep
into my soul
finding things
long forgotten,
how you
have reminded me
that we all
have wings
and for having
the patience
to teach me
to fly again

and it’s the way
love
simply looks
when i am
fortunate enough
to catch your
stare
for it is there
in those moments
where i am
transformed
by all that is you
and you make me
better than i
could ever be
on my own


kc09

wow, when I first opened this I said damn that's one long a.s.s poem, but it's a collection, great idea and very frugal on space....

now this last one is exciting, because every once in a while you come across a read that you think to yourself, hey that would look awesome on a hallmark plaque and this is no exception. I enjoyed it and wondered what it would be like to have a love such as that....My muse would probably divorce me, but it'd be worth it...aweome write.

My Coordinate System

tobacco stained nightmares in alcoholic sweat
the closet door pedophile is preening on the net
as laughing gas dentist yank teeth from a grin
he smiles through the picket fence of his, distorted sin

I’ m not sure what this about
just mental masturbation with a climax of doubt
pre-cum verses dripping down societies chin
lethal contraceptive impregnating spin

there’s a digital recording of a life you didn’t plan
kept in sight by the face on a clock without hands
this cell phone is a tether with invisible string
keeping us connected like the spice on a chicken wing


and I,
I am a miracle

I am super man
but,
without all the cool stuff

you,
you are my kryptonite
but, without you
I would die
anyway

it’s a tricky thing, this life

some die heroic, others live in strife
while this flat tire turnstile keeps me on the side
so I trade one for another and the other’s just the same
lessons never learned are destined for the flame

even the good girls sometimes get wax across the chest
and the bad boys swarm when angels need to rest
you trade one for another and the other’s just as lame
keeping with the theory of inertial reference frame

shadowboxer curser, blank computer screen
misfit island luau in honor of the queen
smoke signal drifters infiltrate the scene
corrupting all the produce and you’re a tangerine

but,
in a world of great disease
I am immune
running round the motor track
feeding on the fumes
catching glimpses of a life
through the eye of a monsoon
trying to avoid the cow
who’s returning from the moon


and I will
because I,
I am a miracle

I am superman
without all the cool stuff

but,
sometimes she lets me wax

poetic




kc09

Never a man so poetic as you, you have the power to seduce and make the one you love swoon. To see clearly through the emotions of it is the tricky part. Whoever you have in your sights, is a lucky woman indeed my friend.

haha!! i dont know if i would call it luck but, i am glad it doesnt paint me as a stalker...

thank you (P) for always being kind....

{{{{KC}}}} and once again, I am left a puddle of melted liquid May the desire to share your gift be eternal

Lyrically Hers


the world is better now you’re here
let’s make a place we can stay

a sanctuary ruled by love not fear
that keeps yesterday at bay

goodbye, loneliness
goodbye, sorrow
goodbye, to long cold nights

goodbye, prescriptions
goodbye, substitutes
goodbye, darkness, hello light…

trying to find a way to say how i feel
trying to find a way to show i care

thoughts i gather spin `round, like a wheel
and words float away in thin air

so,
how ‘bout, wanted
how ‘bout, inspired
how ‘bout, important

how ‘bout, amazing
how ‘bout, protected
how ‘bout, completed…

i’m trying to find a way to say i want you
but nothing sticks to the page

i can’t align them the way i need; to get
one great line or a magical phrase

so,
how ‘bout, you’re perfect
and yes you’re beautiful
how ‘bout, you’re becoming my best friend

how ‘bout, i live for you
and yes i’d crawl to you
how ‘bout i’d die for you as well

how ‘bout, happiness
how ‘bout, fulfillment
how ‘bout, all of the above


how ‘bout i simply say
i love you




kc09

For Better Or Worse



she awakens me, and lessens the pain, in this world

makes me forget how hard being alone can be

it’s peculiar for us, when we fight (i guess it is for all couples)

little things get to her, more than they do me

i never suggest a split or for her to leave but, it’s different for her

as if walking away, creates winners

for me it is just a misunderstanding, an argument, a spat

not worth losing everything over, (i’ve lost enough in my day)

i do wonder how it will end

i hope it happens in my sleep; i’ve always thought it would be

best to go that way

ironically, it’s in those moments, as sleep creeps in, and i am listening

to her breathe, i feel the closest to her




kc09

Lisa and Dali and Me


she flaunts her vices
and tries too hard, to be
different.

sees herself a
poet.
-truth is, she is dreadfully
mediocre. never the less,
she is a friend.

thinks she has to be dark and mysterious
and miserable;
when she gets bored,
she has sex
with men who
don’t love her,
strangers
and sometimes
women,

just to be…different.

tonight we sit in the dark
in her families’ guest house
just off Mulholland,
getting drunk.
she talks of how she despises
her parents
affluence- again.

all the while,
her store bought L. A. body
is draped in
Versace
and the keys to her
Porsche
rest comfortably
in the six hundred dollar
Fendi
cocktail purse,
she’s tossed on the floor.


I open another beer,
as she snorts another line
off of the signed
Dali lithograph she
had me remove from the wall.
it’s not the good Dali,
it’s the later, pedestrian, diluted
Dali;
you know,
the stuff he churned out
just for the money, towards the end.

(kind of fitting really)

I snicker at the way they are
so proud of it yet, appropriately,
even if by accident,
it hangs at the end of the hall.

ten minutes ago
she asked if I wanted a
blow job,
I wonder what this says
about my
company.

I may take her up on her offer though,
I’m feeling
a bit disillusioned
myself.







kc09

It Wasn’t Just Sex


my hand traveled
down her side.

so precise was my touch,
I could feel
each
and every
goose bump
on her
exposed and
delicate
skin.

between her
legs,
I found her
soft,
and warm,
and wet.

she stroked
me
with deep breathing
and her hair
caressed
my shoulder
and my
chest,
as she
climbed, on
top of me.

we were hungry
and we
fed
like, starving cubs;
we made love
with our
eyes,
and mouths,
and hips.

when it was over
we
showered
and got back
into bed
where
we laughed,
and joked,
and talked,

making love
again,
this time,
with our voices,
and with our
minds.




kc09

I Should Learn To Write (revised)



I’ve heard

“Unrequited love is the fuel
that burns the poet’s heart”

Well, this one is a raging inferno,
a fiery testament
to loves drowning resolve.
Its flames fan out
ahead of my meager words,
past all I would view as practical
yet, never igniting even
the driest of brush.

I have waited for you,
a lifetime

Have I not been patient enough?

Am I not deserving of your love?

Is it my destiny
to live with burning desire
A lifelong discontent

Than perhaps, I should learn to write
Become a poet or a blacksmith;
my heart could heat brands
of my own design-
Glowing red hot verses,
I could burn to your eyes

Would you see me then?
…Would you understand?

I might compare you to the sunrise
but, your beauty extends
far beyond its merciless rays

Or the moon,
but, even a simple
cloud can veil its existence

I could tell you that
I wish your whispers
to rest tenderly upon pillows
and softly disappear
into the quiet of night…

Or that I long to hear
your throaty moans
and heavenly sighs
echo throughout this room,
until they melt away;
evaporating into the safety
of these thirsty walls…

Or as others have done;
I could use the gentle, flowing river,
a serene meadow,
the vast stars or the common flower
and these would suffice,
for most…

But, not for you

You are a rarity
and my love for you
is more deserving than a cliché.
More complex than I can explain…

So yes, I should learn to write

With you as my muse
My inspiration, my tablet
Words; to give you sight
Rhyme; to lend credence to my phrase
Entire books devoted to you,
to love…

Kisses would fall in perfect cadence
Touch will liquefy resistance,
as passion ignites in you
that, which has forever burned in me…
My love for you.

A longing deeply rooted
in the sedimentary rock
of my foundation, my soul.

Only then will I become whole
Only then will I realize life’s worth
and shed this moniker of Spartan.

I can join the ranks of the living,
the loved, the men who breathe freely,
the awakened.

O I should learn to write…

For you, for me
For all those who feel nothing
and for the ones that know how I feel
without you…

Without love



kc09

I love this restaurant of words.

thank you...i trust the holidays are going well.

sorry not ready

Wow,,,KC,,,you been hiding this as I have missed it,lol

but,,truly, as I follow all your writes,,,this has allowed me to remember when they were wrote,,and each perception at THAT time I felt when first reading them,,your a great writer and friend..
Please allow me to give YOU one,,for you here..

Passing time spending it here
deeply thinking and missing.
Loves, I once held so dear.
Writing, creating, typing out
my memories all tossed about.
Wanting, needing,
that feeling of living,
to explore once more.
Passing time spending it here,
exhaling,
words in cold black ink.
Hoping they turn some eyes
to make one beautiful woman's
mind, think.
that I could be
her missing link.


This is from my readings,,to you man..
as I feel we do travel the same road.
KEEP on writing and being YOU....

thank you T
it seems your perception is spot on
i appreciate you taking the time to read
and to understand by looking between the lines

though not all of these are exactly about me
i would be a fool if i were to deny that
there is a piec of me in each one

again, thank you...

Kc each time I step into your world here it seems that once again you words are heartfelt.

I agree with others on the one "Cherish" it is beautiful as many of the others....