Sonnet 29 – Sometimes I Think of You
Sometimes I think of you and see my face.
Sometimes I want your hand and take my own.
Sometimes we occupy a single space.
Sometimes I think it’s all I’ve ever known.
Sometimes, when I get up to sleep at night,
I think I see you breathing next to me.
Sometimes, when I turn off the bedroom lights,
I think I hear you watching silently.
Sometimes my reason tells me I’m insane,
but maybe I’m in love with the idea.
Sometimes I tell myself I’m not okay;
at other times, I can’t be so sincere.
Sometimes I can’t forget you’re not two-sided
when every time you’re here, I am divided.
Sonnet 27 – Done With Love
This love is quizzical. This love’s bizarre.
And I have had enough. I’m through with you!
I’ll have no more long make-outs in the car,
despite the fact I’ve nothing else to do.
I’m sick of sunshine, let me have the dark!
And I won’t waste it holding to your hand
and letting you lead me around the park
like some poor dog you found. Give me dry land,
and not this ocean, not this salty sea.
I’m queasy; I could vomit up my heart.
And maybe if I did, you’d let me be
because I could not love without that part.
And still, I think you might pursue me yet…
No, I’ve moved on. With nothing to regret!
Sonnet 26 – Chasing Love
It seems that love’s a nasty, tricky thing.
The more you chase, the more it runs away.
And when you think it’s cornered, love grows wings
and soars among the clouds as if to play.
With haste, you make a makeshift aeroplane
and burst into the sky. Love spots your craft,
and as you close the distance, as you strain,
it shouts a laugh! and darts away; too fast!
And now, your air machine’s run dry of fuel.
It tumbles down, the pieces snapping off,
and you’re alone to drop, to face the cruel,
hard smack of sunbaked clay, the bottom rock.
…But just before you give away your soul,
love comes to you, at last, and makes you whole.
Sonnet 25 – Perfect Date
With prepaid card (a graduation gift)
in hand, I catch the swinging door for you.
We sit together at our booth for two,
and compromise between our tastes and thrift.
I’m never wealthy; you don’t seem to mind.
We tell the waitress that we’d like to share,
and as we wait, we hope no one will stare
at us, the happy pair at table nine.
You hold my hand beneath the table while
we split our little steak in equal parts.
You end up eating mine, but it’s okay;
I ate your potatoes. I see you smile,
and suddenly I can’t control my heart;
I’m smiling, too… It’s such a perfect date!
Sonnet 24 – Summer
The sun has brought us summer as a gift.
The heavens change alignments by degrees,
and thus they lend our hearts a warming lift
and let us lie, in love, beneath these trees.
The speckled shadows play upon your face,
and yet I notice nothing but the light
that shines within your eyes, a brighter place
for me than twenty summers. Oh, I might
kiss you… how could I not? on days like these,
your lips a simple muscle twitch from mine,
and with this bed of grass, these ceiling trees,
these walls of diamond sky, these sheets of time?
This fair warm air will fade come this September,
but summer days like this I will remember.
Sonnet 23 – Slave to a Kiss
How mystical your kiss, and how divine!
Your lips are mages, blessed with angel flair
to do their sweet and wistful work on mine
and render me immobile and impaired!
Despite my duty, conscience, or judgment
which plead with me to think of better things
or tasks I should be at while time is spent
entangled and entranced in your trappings,
I find that I have lost my self-control.
No trick I try may free me when you place
your cheek to mine, your breath warm on my face,
and press your supple lips to me; and so,
I stay a hopeless slave to love’s sure sign,
incompetent in body and in mind.
Sonnet 22
Today is set aside for our good-byes—
to friends, to teachers, even to this place
(no one returns)—and also for our lies,
each wrapped and given with an eager face.
We make such empty promises as, “Hey,
I’ll see you all this summer!” and “Let’s keep
in touch,” and “Don’t forget to call, okay?”
An accident, but still a travesty.
But then, there’s you. They thought we couldn’t last,
but here we are, together for this long,
and though we leave here, never to come back,
we’ve planned one destination all along.
“So long” to friends, “Farewell” to knowledge rooms,
but to my love, I say, “I’ll see you soon.”
Sonnet 21
I’m sitting here—and have been for some time,
just staring at my monitor in doubt—
upon this chair, and thinking of a rhyme
to somehow get my swelling feelings out.
I see you in my mind, and could describe
your every feature, but that wouldn’t do.
Such writing has been done a hundred times,
and still it wouldn’t grasp my thoughts of you.
But I can’t stop, or I’ll become moody.
Besides, how could I waste this crucial hour
while somewhere far away, your rich beauty
continues like an ever-blooming flower?
See, there I go again with imagery!
Another verse, another tragedy…
Sonnet 19
The devil wants me dead; I half agree.
My childhood fades with every rising sun,
and I am told my life will always be
the torture I now face: I want to run
until my lungs explode with atmosphere;
my traitor home has turned, for I soon leave
and never will return; I long to hear
the truth about forever and believe
in what is held for proving it; and sleep,
it leads me like a lover to my bed,
yet there is only glass for broken feet
and dragon years to slay before I rest.
Each use of time is wasting it away.
If this is life, then may I die today.
Sonnet 18
It will be nice to leave this lonely place.
By name alone are we a family.
There’s always anger brooding in your face;
you try, but you can’t keep the truth from me.
You tried to teach me love, but I can tell
by your example, you have no idea.
Why would you rather suffer than excel?
He claims to care, but abhors your career,
one last remaining love yet to beat out.
Because he pays the mortgage, is that it?
Some things are more important than the house,
but that’s just one more thing you won’t admit.
So I walk down, sit at my desk, and write
while from behind closed doors, I hear you fight.
