Summer Days

These lonely summer days
have taken their toll
on my even lonelier heart,
and all I’m left with
are the dreams of you every night
and the waking thoughts of
how much I still love you,
and how much more I miss seeing you
with every day that passes by.
All I’m left with are
the memories of the times
we really didn’t spend together,
times just spent around each other,
times I couldn’t let go
of what I wanted so badly
that I held it in my hands
with white knuckles,
the times that I thought
there was a chance for something,
anything to happen,
but nothing ever did.
And this distress makes me wonder
if I’ll forever be as lonely
as these long, hot summer days.

#207                                                              06-30-07

An Epic Journey

A project that lasted 51 days.
51 poems in length.
51 pieces of my mind,
spilled into the paper,
onto the computer screen,
Through the fires,
one passion died,
another murdered,
a third remained strong
and another sprouted.
And the blue eyes
of my deepest and oldest desire
still drive me wild,
even after I’ve written
volumes about her.
And then, the green-eyed devil
who stabbed me through the heart,
a heart that deserved much better,
she’s still on my mind,
although I don’t know why,
after all the problems I’ve had,
I could still consider her beautiful,
when she’s exactly the opposite inside.

And then there were
bits and pieces
strewn about;
one about war,
a couple about experiences in driving,
one about the lies
hidden in the “American Dream,”
one about traveling to places
I’ve never seen before,
one about a cell phone call and an ended relationship,
one about living in a fantasy
one about the end of high school,
one about long hair,
one about a lack of inspiration,
a few about day-to-day passions,
a series of questions about why I can’t find
my dream girl among the crowds,
another about a hating red pen
and an innocent essay defaced,
a variation on a classic,
one on a dying streetlight,
one about a self-inflicted dizzy spell,
one about serrated knives,
and one about falling down the stairs.
And the journey ends here, a mixing bowl
full of memories and the words that relate them,
mixed like the feelings about this being the end.

Project 51: Final Day, #206                                        06-20-07

Words Are Never Enough

All the words I’ve written
to attest to the passion you’ve
instilled in me,
every poem about every smile,
every adjective about
everything in you,
None of it is enough
to truly explain
the ways in which
even the mere sight of you
could reduce me to a mindless drone,
mind set only on taking in
your outstanding beauty.

But it’s not just that,
that is not the only reason
for these feelings,
not by a long shot.
It’s in the way you made me feel
even when we were just kids,
surviving the mires of middle school.
It’s in the way you caught my eye
even when you weren’t in sight.
It’s in the way I looked forward
to every three-second meeting
every day during passing time in the halls,
and it’s in the way you left me
so disappointed when you weren’t there.
It’s in the way I sat beside you,
inciting every feeling to grab hold
of you and never let go.
It’s in the way I stared at your lips,
longing for hours at a time
to press mine to yours
for just one second.
It’s in the way, for five years,
you stuck in my mind,
despite every other interest
fighting its way into my heart,
settling right next to the desire for you.
It’s in the way that you,
despite knowing my every feeling for you,
never changed your view of me.
It’s in every little thing
that makes me fall for you more and more,
and I never want to let go of that.

And I just want to let you know that,
without experiencing this passion for yourself,
you’ll never know how much I love you,
because words will never be enough to explain
the extent to which this love goes.

Project 51: Day 51, #205                                                                             06-19-07

I Need You Tonight

I need you tonight
to be there
when I feel forgotten,
staring at the stars
in search of something beautiful.

I need you here
when I need a shoulder
to lean on,
when I need
an extra set of hands
to hold the weight
of the world,
when I need to cradle
the fragile feelings
that my heart spits out at me.

I need you to be there
to cover my insecurity
when these faults of mine
become too apparent
to tuck in my back pocket.

I need you to help me
when I can’t forget
to fall in love
at the sight of
a pretty face and a smile.

I need you to guide me
when I can’t find
the path to the place
where I want to be.

I need your friendship,
because I never would have
made it through this
confusing, bittersweet
high school life
without you there to help me.

I need you near me
to catch me as I fall
hopelessly in love with you
all over again.

I need you forever,
because this feeble heart
can’t ever let go of
your stunning beauty,
your picture-perfect smile,
and your enticing blue eyes.

I need you now,
because these memories of you
are forever infused
in my lonely mind.

Project 51: Day 49, #204                                                                     06-18-07

You Win

Ruin my desires,
drop my fragile dreams
on the ground,
throw sand on the flames
burning in this heart,
take away my ability
to feel real,
to feel alive,
because everything,
all of it,
it all means nothing to you.
I know you don’t care,
I saw it in your eyes.
You never cared
from the start.
The friendship,
the conversations,
the passion,
it was all a joke,
all a lie,
all a masquerade
to make me fall
into your game.
I was just a lowly pawn
in your game,
only a trade for
some movie star,
some athlete,
some celebrity
that you had no chance with,
that didn’t even know you existed.
But I suppose it was
a transfer of all that,
because I’d mind as well
have not existed to you.
So why don’t you just
finish the job,
take my heart,
take the fires,
take the passion,
take my ability to love
and to live happily,
take it all away from me,
and kill it all,
file it away and forget it,
because if you don’t
think about it anymore,
then maybe I won’t, either.

Project 51: Day 48, #203                                                        06-17-07

Practicality or Hopelessness?

You looked just like you did
the first time I saw you
and just like that first time,
I fell for you all over again.
I don’t know why it happened,
but the feeling was too good to pass up.
And the scent of your perfume
hung in the air like a poison cloud,
and it just served to
ignite the fire more.
And you moved with such grace
that I couldn’t help but notice
your beautiful form in front of my eager eyes.
And the complacency in your eyes
captured my heart
as if I had been shot
with a tranquilizer dart
and left to enjoy the euphoric numbness
as my limbs lost feeling
and I collapsed into a dream.
And I longed to hold you
in my empty arms
and press my forgotten lips
against yours,
even if it was only once,
even if it lasted for only a second,
even if it was just to dampen
these fires that have slowly spread
throughout my lonely soul,
even if it meant nothing to you.

So what if I let it consume me,
just like every other passion I’ve had?
So what if, now, you’re going to be
in my thoughts, in my heart,
instead of some other beautiful girl,
some other hopeless pursuit?
So what if it’s going to be like
every
other
time?
So what if you’re never going to feel
anything for me?
Is someone going to tell me to let it go,
or am I going to live with false hope
while my dreams freefall from the sky?

Is this worth it, is this something real,
or should I expect to be broken again?

Project 51, Day 47: #202                                                          06-16-07

A Traveler’s Dream

My dream
is to write about
anything and everything
this life brings to me.
I would love to write about
traveling around the world,
seeing all the world has to offer,
and living life
without having to worry so much.

I would love to write about
a sunset in Spain,
and the bikini-clad Spanish beauties
laying out on the beach
on a perfect day.

I would love to write about
midnight in Paris,
and seeing the lights
shining bright in the city
from atop the Eiffel Tower.

I would love to write about
the rainforests and jungles in Africa
and the wildlife around me,
screaming their melodies
while a steady rain falls around
and a mist rises from the trees.

I would love to write about
walking a piece of the
Great Wall of China
and listening to a Chinese drum band
on the streets of Beijing.

I would love to write about
the high-rises
and crowded city streets in Tokyo,
and visiting the pagodas
and water gardens
outside the city.

I would love to write about
The arctic cold
in the Alps of Switzerland
and tasting the sweet morsels of arguably
the best chocolatiers in the world.

But, best of all,
because such experiences
as a would traveler
would inflict a case of nostalgia,
I would love to write about home.

Project 51: Day 46, #201                                                   06-10-07

What American Dream?

I’m an American.
So, therefore,
according to societal values,
I should be aiming to reach
the “American Dream.”
But that dream is more of
a definition than a dream.
The “American Dream”
is to be a college graduate,
to have a steady job
with a nice paycheck,
to live in middle- to upper-class suburbia
with a white picket fence
in front of your $300,000 house
with a two-car garage,
one car for each adult,
and every house on the street
looks nearly the same.
The “American Dream”
is to have a spouse who loves you,
two children running at your feet,
an address book full of friends
who live on the same street as you,
a barbecue once a month on
your brand new deck behind your house,
in front of your huge backyard
and your in-ground pool
and lush green grass everywhere.
The “American Dream” is to have
a 60-inch plasma-screen HDTV,
a brand new computer with the latest hardware,
a kitchen with the latest appliances
a front room, a guest bedroom,
a made-over basement,
a state-of-the-art alarm system
a pool table, a hot tub,
a mind clear of worrying
about break-ins or enemies,
and enough insurance
to cover just about anything
and everything that can
ruin the “American Dream”
that you’ve worked so hard to attain.

Yes, I am an American,
but that is not my dream

Project 51: Day 45, #200                                                  06-09-07

Even Though You Know

I can’t say enough
about the way
you take my breath away
every time I see you,
or about the way your voice
sings a symphony of perfection
into my ever-eager ears.
And these words
don’t adequately explain
the ways that you ignite
the flames of passion
in my heart
with every glance from
your deep blue eyes.
And I would trade my mind,
my memories,
my ability to write,
for just one day
one hour,
one minute with you,
and for one date,
one night,
one kiss,
and I’d never need anything more
to be truly happy,
although I would ask again and again,
because, like the man
hopelessly in love that I am,
I would long for more and more
after that first contact.
But I’ll survive with just one time,
just one kiss would send me
into complete euphoria,
and you wouldn’t have to do anything else
because I wouldn’t need anything else.
So just let me summarize
that one kiss is all I need
to fall in love forever,
although you still leave me
paralyzed and powerless
when your blue eyes find my gaze
and you smile and wave
and take my breath away,
even though you know I love you.

Project 51: Day  44, #199                                                  06-08-07

Rewind The Clocks

Take it all away.
Take every memory
and write them all
on blank pages,
then rewind the clock
five, six, seven years,
back when love didn’t matter,
back when there was no work
cause I don’t wanna miss
the days I never spent with you
bring us back to the days
when time wasn’t of the essence,
before I realized that I loved you,
before I knew who you were.
I would rather relive those years
over and over again,
than to continue on,
knowing you love someone,
anyone else,
while I’m left here
with the hope that maybe,
someday,
you will change your mind about me.
I don’t regret pursuing
what now seems to be
such a hopeless endeavor,
but I do regret not doing something more,
something else to make this friendship
something more.
This is one of the few times
that I feel that being friends
just isn’t good enough for me.
I need you to be more than that,
because my heart screams its passion
into my mind, and my eyes
openly project these desires for you.
Please don’t let go of the feelings
you hold in your hands,
because they’re too fragile
to let fall to the floor.
And please don’t forget that
my heart will forever beat faster
when those blue eyes look my way.

Project 51: Day 43, #198                                            06-07-07

Illusions

I wake up
to the sounds
of your breathing softly
in my ear,
nestled up against me,
one arm draped across my chest
and I smile to myself,
because being there
with you so close to me
has taken this love
to its fullest extent,
and the fires burn through me
defying the inevitability
that this is only
an impossible dream,
doing nothing to calm
my quickly beating heart
and I find the desire
to write a thousand,
a hundred thousand,
a million lines about these times
that I spend with you,
because they all seem so unreal
But I don’t want to move,
because holding you in my arms—
your soft breathing whispering
a sweet melody into my ear—
that is the only thing
I would ever ask for
in what would be a perfect life
with you in it.
so I just lay there calmly,
enjoying what time we have
together, although you don’t realize
that I’m dreaming of
your blue eyes opening
and a smile creeping onto your face
when you see me there with you
and I’ll close my eyes
and continue to live through
the best time of my life,

but I’ll wake up again, alone.

Project 51: Day 42, #197                                                                06-06-07

Cell Phone

It ended
with a cell phone call
and a crying whisper,
“I can’t do this anymore.”
But what were we doing
in the first place?
Was it that we loved each other?
Or was it just an act?

“I don’t love you anymore.”
You choked on those words
between breaths
as if you didn’t want to say them,
as if you didn’t mean them.
But I knew that you were right
because these masquerades
were trying my patience
just the same as yours.
I always felt like
I couldn’t be myself,
because you wouldn’t like
the person I really am,
the guy who, inside,
is as scared as a child
afraid of the monsters
under the bed.

I didn’t know what to expect
when this began,
but I tried to be
everything you wanted me to be
and all the great times we shared,
all the great things we did together,
those memories burned themselves
into my mind,
because I was truly happy.

But times got tougher
and we drifted apart
and we both know it’s time to move on.
And I know not how this began
so long ago,
but I know it ends
with this phone call.

Project 51: Day 41, #196                                             06-05-07