mozart was crazy

Another poem without a title.

Carefully cherished memories
Swimming in the sunlight
Underneath clouds accumulating above.
Sheltered beneath a tree
I trust the arms that hold me. 

A breeze comes by
To twist what we remember into
Softly floating, beautiful mixes
Of picture, color,
Haze, emotion.

The breeze passes and they swim once more
Lazy, happy, open
Drinking sunlight and smiles
Until, satiated, they drift down to us.

I seem to have poetry today.

I babble into the phone
Like a fool without a proper tongue
And your laughter bites.

Empty words
Open sentences
Filling the distance with a hunger
Emptying the time with speed
Pushing flowers from the ground. 

My head knows long before
The valentine heart
You penned into my notebook
Too many months ago
That all the empty conversations
Cannot repair broken feelings. 

I shift the air around the doodle
So I may see more clearly
And my very real and beating heart
Stops my mouth from spilling more. 

Mentally, I plead that you may notice too
And hang up.

Scampering Indigo Typewriter

I want to write, but I can’t.

I’m thirsty and
I’m looking into a glass of 
Expansive air
Overflowing with empty
And all I want is
Water
Wet cool simple smooth
Content.  There’s a lot of
H and O
Just not in the right order.

Tip it over and the words
Spill out and bounce around on the floor
Trying to attach themselves to
One another.

But there’s no water there
Nothing to attach itself to
So everything and nothing just floats around
Teasing and taunting
Dashing all dreams of putting
Anything on paper.