marvin's poem

i saw old photos you had dug out of moldy living spaces...
back when your hair was cut short...
and your eyes shined from something other than intoxication...

i saw your life...
in bits and pieces...
when you were young...
and handsome...
and in love...

when you had enough energy...
to work...
and enough nerve to vacation...
to beautiful places...

without selling yourself...

now...you've got nothing but time...

and i remember you being nothing but a blur to me...
something unseen...

but we met...
we exchanged parts of one another...

and now...
after all this time's gone by...
and you've gone away...

i finally see the real you...
not the sad man i thought i knew...
with the shady face and runaway ponytail...

there weren't any motorcycles...
and you used to look much different...

i wonder if life did this to you...

or if it's been a conscious choice...

crud

my guts feel like old oatmeal...
that never was poured over by any milk or sugar...

my heart like a broken vase...
that once proudly held something beautiful...

sunken like a ship that never quite set sail...
now bobbing aimlessly in the slip of the dead...

Bowl Of Ice

Slid down between tender flesh...
Pooling in the hot caverns of your lovers uncovered body...
Playing and changing form...
Droplets writhe and yearn to disappear...
Melt me like they melt on you...
Flood this room with a thousand cubes...
Of crystal cut ice...
Each a diamond made special...
An endeavor for your pleasure...
And cool down after it's untimely end...
In it's glistening remains...
After it's slid down the length of you...
And felt your friction...

Ryan's Haiku

blue eyed devil rests
beside sleeping angel sweet
between them just sheets

this one works, too little, too late

i wanted to write about guns drawn and knives unsheathed...
i wanted to talk solitude and forgiveness...
i wanted to tell you of my travels and hear you speak of yours...
i wanted to see your blood under my nails before we both breathed the holy breath of lovers dancing naked under dimmed interior lights...
i wanted to feel you from every angle...
i wanted my grip to stay firmly planted where it rested...
and i wanted you to turn around and kiss me more than anything...

i wanted to write about starlight and moonshine and sunrises...
but they still aren't in comparison to your gaze like a fallen soldier...
half covered in disheveled sheets, peering up at me like one of the master's stoic models...
you are every bit as epic as i'd hoped...

i wanted to cover my insecurities and scars and every bruise i've ever received...
but you give them names, and make love to each and every flaw, making them feel like the girl who's just felt what loving really means...

i still can't seem to keep green and yellow dry, as the folds upon folds hold up this plane of pride...

sometimes the motion in the ocean is far too much for my sails to take...and i'll collapse under you like the waves when the moon finally goes to sleep at night...

every finger an adventuring muscle, eagerly awaiting it's turn inside...it's turn to seek and find and hide...it's turn to press and squeeze and scratch...

she says the greatest feeling in the world, it seemed, was relief...
i believe it to be release...

i just want you to catch me, and then release...
i just want you to grab me, and never let go...