His Heart Skips Quicker than It can Beat

Faster than the running wind
is an autumn leaf, falling
Can his weary eyes beguile
a colorless world?
He conjured himself since
a stupor brightly shining
where people everyday is a calm eternal,
where two of threes is four—

Oh knaves like you and me, we have
battle scars from fate and destiny!
We dare throw pebbles
but they hit us with bronzes
and golds and shards of sorrow
for us to treasure in a lifetime,
despite ourselves, dear, despite ourselves.

Are you still avoiding them because you can't have them,
Do you now complain more than you've used to
Are you still good in math and science but know unaware
knowledge doesn't translate to wisdom
Do you still remember being disillusioned
Do you still enjoy writing about sports,
Are you still easy, breezy, easy to tease,
do you still prefer chocolate brown to gray pants
Have you found it interesting yet to talk in metaphors,
that regretting is a state of mind
Are you still funny, humble, have you begun speaking your mind
Are you still as green as you were, seven times a week
Would you be curious enough
Do you still play Linkin Park and Silverchair, do you
still play basketball and work for your family
Would you look forward to my asking you these
in daydreams or over coffee, as you know, I could wait forever

You, Capricorn Boy

What misfortunes could be
as thick as thieves
and err them as fortuity;
to afflict
and deceive me, if they can
Thus would I writ what words
are left with my red right hand;
that the world is yours,
and you are mine to leave

I tunneled Time to build my recluse
only that you do not age but smolder:
The older I am the more your Youth burns
Calm is my weapon; venom may be this Bare Archer
I leave you now and return tonight,
my little Capricorn Boy
And thus did he writ what words
are left with his red right hand;
that the world is yours,
and you are his to leave

You deadly Stranger, always apart
Tomorrow perhaps
I catch the Sun with my arms;
You deadly Sun, cold is your glare
Tomorrow perhaps
I catch the Sun with my arms;
And I refuse, little Capricorn Boy,
a thousand Leaps to bewilder, to your bewilderment:
What misfortunes could be
as thick as thieves
and err them as fortuity;

I behold in yours what bright Words fell;
so Rewrit I did
But my quill is tied to what I know
and what I know is bound to my reed:
Truths are only what the heart tells them to be
Beguiled thus am I;
Bedeviled am I
to have caught the world in my arms
Solaced am I, and re-writ I did:
I caught the World with my Misfortuned arms.

Chimera

The midnight men who stare
across solar meadows
await the dusk unaware
and running to where tomorrows
flee from their very presence

Eventide

The night, in his heart, setting a darkened one aglow;
The night, on your skin, spreading its breadth too thin;
The night, all too dim, enveloping your body with a weary touch
The silence in this upward path downtown
would have cast further shadows
but thus did the lonely streetlight across your window
illumine both you and I

Mavericks

I disappear to clear away the night
if you bury what was seven years ago
People move dryly against an old darkened light
We both take the path on a folderol

We both run in dregs and husks
Huntsmen in a city of pins and needles
We'll build castles in the sky
and shoot down ogres in standstills
We'll shoot down ogres from up high

Brazen midnights in overhung roads
Burn our brows over yellowed manuscripts
Bloodshot eyes grace them with souls
We've written histories with a thousand quills

With blood we cried truth
and hurried the world with everything;
Yet the games we played betrayed our youth
No one knew we've begun nothing
No one knew we've nothing to begin

I leapt up blind alleys and
wrote you promises I spurn
to letters of discontent
We all thought it was love you mourned

Our lives are what truths are only the heart tells it to be

Old, aimless memory;
We all aged in a heartbeat
I bloomed beautifully against your somber breath
and when the dust settles we'll finally wilt