Futurelawyer

#PoetryFriday - Wedding Anniversary

Wedding Anniversary

I can’t remember the smell of your hair.
I can’t remember the taste of your skin.
I can’t remember the last time we made love.
I can’t remember the last time we slept in the same bed.
I remember that today would be our wedding anniversary.
But, I can’t remember the last time we went out to celebrate.
I can’t remember the last time you frowned at me.
I can’t remember the last time you smiled.
I can’t remember the last time we argued.
I can’t remember the last time we made up after an argument.
I can’t remember the last time I saw the tattoo on your back.
I can’t remember when I last kissed you.
I can’t remember how you looked when I said I loved you.
I can’t remember how you looked when you said you loved me.

I can’t remember how you looked on the day you died.

Every day I forget more.
Every day the pictures in my mind grow fuzzier.
Every day I look at photographs to remind myself that we loved.
Every day I want to remember more.
Every day I remember less.

I do remember that I loved you.
I do remember your charisma and beauty.
I do remember your kindness to others.
I do remember the joy in your eyes.

I know that time robs all of us of our memories.
I will keep yours alive as long as I am able.
I will write poems as long as I can put pen to paper.

Let them be my memory.

#PoetryFriday - BullFight

BULLFIGHT

He waved a red flag,
but she kept on coming.
Her intentions were known
his defenses were down.
He was dead meat on the hoof.

As he lay dying on the ground,
he looked up into sparkling eyes,
deep as an ocean
and wondered where his heart might be.

His lips sank into her melting mouth.
He lost himself in the moment’s passion.
He wanted to spend the rest of his life
learning the curves of her slender form,
tracing her skin
like blind people read.

He wanted to lose himself
in the completeness
of her smile.

He thanked whatever godlike power was up there
for reminding him
that love mattered again.

If I Could Tell You

If I Could Tell You

If I could speak to you
what would I say?
Would I talk about my life now?
Would I turn to you when I saw a flower on your bush?
Would I ask you your opinion about the problems of the day?
Would I comment on your style and grace under pressure?
Would I gripe about the useless stuff you bought?
Would I ask you to go with me to an event?
Would I want to know why you were angry with me?
Would I speak words of anger to you?
Would I complain about your animals
or your annoying habits?
Would I wish out loud that I wanted the freedom to do what I wanted?
Would I tell you what I wanted to buy
while you told me what I would?
Would I ask you to hold my hand
even when we weren’t speaking?
Would I ask you to come to the canyon edge at dawn
so that I could take photographs of you?
Would I try to get you to leave the restaurant
after you spent an hour
learning about the history of the wait staff?
Would I gently nudge you
to wake up hours after I did
so that I could take you to breakfast before noon?

There are so many things I wanted to say.
It is too late to say them now.
When I speak to you now
there is no reply.

Or is there a reply that I cannot hear?
Are you speaking to me in a voice
that I cannot understand?
Am I not pure enough
to hear the voice of an angel?
Am I unworthy?

Perhaps the memories of your voice
that fade over time
are enough.
Perhaps they are the language
in which you speak to me now.
Every question I ask
has an answer.
I just have to listen.

Poems For Lovers Illustration Update

Poems for lovers illustration update | heather joi on Patreon. Heather Joi has posted an update to her work on the illustrations for my upcoming book, Poems For Lovers. Since we are working with white paper, she may be going with a more graphic look in black and white. I love her work, and hope that our collaboration meets with some approval.

#PoetryFriday - Hotel

I thought of this poem, written 20 years ago, as I waited to do my presentation yesterday. This time, my lover was sitting there with me. Just another reason to love whatever fate brings you in every moment.

Hotel.

As he waited in the empty lecture hall
for his turn at bat
He thought about her

Her face was in every seat

He felt the loneliness
of the room
and wondered about the rest of his life.

He stood at a crossroads
barred by a locked gate.
She held the key.

Would the road to her love
open for him?

Or, would he again be asked to walk alone
down a road with no end
and no destination
worthy of a visit.

Would he find another love
after another mile
and another day?

Would he be so far down the road
that she couldn’t find him
when she finally realized that the gate was for him?

#PoetryFriday - Passages

Why can't Wednesday be Friday? Will it make the week shorter? 

Passages.

What do you love?
What do you live by?
What is your purpose?
He asked these questions
in a novel.
They were spoken by a wise man
to everyone.

He walked the streets.
He drove the highways.
He ate the food.
He drank the water.
He loved several women.
He was wronged.
He committed wrongs.
He celebrated victories.
He tasted failure.
He read books.
He listened to music.
He attended Church
on occasion.
He took photographs of birds and animals
as if it would keep them alive a while longer.
He spoke words
to people who couldn’t understand.
He thought about life
and living
and never figured it out.

On his deathbed,
he was still asking the questions...
What do you love?
What do you live by?
What is your purpose?

Heather Joi - Illustration Art For "Poems For Lovers"

Illustrations | heather joi on Patreon. Heather Joi is hard at work on the illustrations for the book, and she is brilliant beyond words. I am thinking that my poetry should be the adjunct to her art book. Peek into the mind of a talented person by supporting her at Patreon. The artists of this world deserve our support and encouragement. Save some money for the book when it is done, of course.

#PoetryFriday - There Are No Legacies

LEGACY

He saw an ad on a website:
“leave a legacy” it said.
“Only $99" it said.

He thought that was a reasonable price.
Except, he realized that no one leaves a legacy.
Legacies may last a year, or a hundred years.
But, then they are gone.
Lost in the dustbin of history,
which itself is gone in a millennium.

How foolish
to want something
that is impossible to have?

How fortunate to realize
that, rather than pursuing a legacy,

we should all go eat lunch.

#PoetryFriday - Ferris Wheel

FERRIS WHEEL

He got on the Ferris wheel
at the bottom.
His view was populated with balloons
and people
and booths filled with food
and wonder.
As the attendant closed the gate
he wondered how long it would take
to travel to the top.
It was a shock to learn
that the journey was short
and that he couldn’t focus on the sights
as he traveled to the top.
When he arrived, he saw the blue sky
and white clouds
and felt powerful
and alive.
He was at the top of the world.
His minions lay before him
as so many small objects
moving about slowly.
Then, after an instant of recognition,
the ride slowly made its downward descent
and the blur of vision
moved towards an inevitable demise.
As he reached his destination
he wondered whether the people
at the bottom
would see him clearly.
Would they resent his recent power?
His consolation was that the ride would continue.
He would rise again
to the top
and the trip would be repeated.

But, he knew that the ride would end
and that it would end at the bottom,
and, after the ride was over,
he would have to get out
and find another ride.

#PoetryFriday - Happy Birthday To My Angel

A couple of years ago I was in the middle of the worst year of my life. Then, an angel came to me and brought me back. Stoics teach us that there is no good and bad; but, there is certainly a rolling thunder of happiness and sadness in each life. Happy Birthday, Diane. Today is one of the good days.

Angel

In his night dream
God sent him an angel
dressed in white
ready to lift him up
to heaven
singing a litany of love
and hope.

She would forgive his sins
like parish priests
on Saturday afternoon.
He would step confidently
into the light, renewed
and ready for a new life.

He wanted his words to her
to ride a litany of praise
to heaven
He wanted them to scream
his devotion and his love.

He feared that they would travel softly
unable to reveal
the depth of his emotions
and love.

He knew that the harsh light of day
would remind him
of the little cruelties
that invaded his daydreams.
He hated the reality
of a world
that harmed the innocent
and rewarded the guilty.

Still, he dreamed
and somehow knew
that when she came
she would be looking for an angel too.