June 17, 2007

Spin your magic, I beg you,
This black coffee fails,
Summon the rains and blind the sun,
Come wash away my travails.

These love poems tire me,
The weather metaphors all old,
Yellow fields dry out and wither,
No, your Midas touch is not gold.

I like star dust; I like them fairies too,
Romance and war all noble and true,
I like that we can delude into believing
There exists something bigger than you.

Happily-ever-afters trot along,
In a world all green,
Hand in hand with straight boring endings,
With love devoid of its perpetual gleam.

You and I might be at the point of conflict,
Where even the good seems bad,
Lilies naked and unbeautiful,
The dark castle sits woefully sad.

What if we stripped the words?
What if we stripped them bare?
What if it were all absent?
Would you still care?

I know we need the words,
The fairies and their comforting stardust,
I know you like the lilies pretty,
The green filled with possibility.

These love poems tire me,
I’ll wait for better days,
These love poems will seem trivial,
Till honest words lift this haze.

1 comment:

Amitha Singh said...

Ah! I know the feeling... tiring of them love poems but that's what make them more intense eh?