...that's the essence of me - I don't think, I feel - at best, I think-feel...
~ John Geddes
...you were there when they trampled me - you picked me up, healed me and gave me back my feelings - is it any wonder I love you?...
...the feelings that pass between us are deeper than fleshly touches...
...you want things to remain the same, which they never can, and so you’re wounded by your own feelings & resentful others don’t seem to care...
RedheadAll over the houseStrands of copper hairLike filaments from a cobwebCollect.If you and IWere ever to part— For months, perhaps years,I’d be combing out,Brushing or picking upStrands of significance,Traces of youIn my life
...we live in the same city but don't see the same things - you see buildings and I see memories...
...everything is gone except traces of you inside me - and the years like the wind are sweeping those away ...
...I recall that day on the beach - the sand so brilliant, the clouds so massive, and the wind punishing your hair...
...spiritual or emotional pain doesn't become a memory so much as a bruise ...
...everyone wants to be excited by something magical and wondrous - to be reminded of how they once saw the world ...
...we went to watch the waves that bitter day and the wind took your red cap and mittens - blew them into the sea...
...strands of your hair and tendrils of the wind spin into nothingness the memories of that day...
...before you, life was desolate - the past hardly worth remembering - and now, each moment a keepsake I can't throw away ...
...every time I look at you autumn leaves come in between - does it matter they're the color of your hair - or they still fall in my memory?...
...when I was a kid, Toronto streets were deserted and quiet on Sundays, except for the sound of church bells I stood on the sidewalk one December listening to the Christmas bells - I've never forgotten that moment...
...I remember the oily smoke of a cigarette suspended in a shaft of sunlight - with you, everything was beautiful...
...I hardly ever see your profile, but have I told you it's beautiful? - like the soft gentle lines of snow...
...when someone is honest and vulnerable, they wring my heart - I want to hug them for being real...
...you disappoint me -I am the worst liar in the world - I can't hide my pain or my need so I make a bouquet of my sorrows and give them to you ...
...the winter is kind and leaves red berries on the boughs for hungry sparrows...
...when your heart is broken, don't go silent - speak to God in his own language...
you cross the field in the snow leaving tracks in perfect whiteness ...disturbing my placid universe...marking the landscape within me ...
...at some point we must achieve our identity -we can't be always in adolescence seeking who we are...
...you became lost in the maze of me - forgive me Love, for keeping you close...
our hearts break, and take us out of relationships that are too painful for us
...the heart breaks in so many different ways that when it heals, it will have fault lines ...
...I didn't want you flawless - I have a bare wall at home that's flawless - I wanted your character trapped in the amber of your skin...
...if you're an actor, and you've thought your way into the part, then you're character portrayal will have authority...
...I committed a sin the day I refused you - I discovered metal inside me where my heart should be - forgive me, Love, for acting on principles...
...the making of stories is only one part of my craft -mainly, I'm a heart whisperer...
...you have changed everything for me- you rearranged the furniture and now you've changed the view from my window!...
...I look out at the world through your transparent face...
...consider yourself a functional character in someone else's novel - a background character - a person on the street - that's the perspective ...
...you've lost perspective? Well, get it back - God alone has the third person point of view in this life ...
... this longing inside me that never goes away, must be a poem...must be you ...
...the wind hums low with sweet exultation, sings its lullaby, while you sleep ...
...my dreams are tangled in images of stars and clouds and firelight - we go camping at night - it's my lucid dream of being with you...
...freshly cut Christmas trees smelling of stars and snow and pine resin - inhale deeply and fill your soul with wintry night...
... paint in blue and black...sometimes gray - the colors of night - occasionally I surprise you with a mustard yellow, but then, I am a poet ...
...careful the morning lest it wake from slumber the city half-encumbered by the morning mist ...
