April Poetry Diary Entries

I am the person riding the shadows

No one sees me at first

But once the sun dial hits the ground

Only then will they know

That time is insane and I live

If eyes are nitroglycerin and hearts are clocks

Then this world is a chittering pipe bomb

Electronic ticking in my bloodstream

Marble fingers dancing over my jugular

They say the sea only uncombs her hair at night

Rippling over the undercurrent

Shells and mollusks like gems in her lavish curls

Spilling on to the golden skin of the beach

You can learn a lot from diary entries

By the scribbles on the paper

Ink for the confident and lead for the confused

And doodles for the abstract

Dust, dust, so much dust

On my fingers and tabletop

Why are specks of matter everywhere

Specks of obscurity or substance?

Old faces are worse than old memories

For there are 43 muscles in the face

That could make either ten thousand smiles

Or tell ten thousand lies

Play me a memory on white and black blocks

Of when you still sang to my eyes

When our song was nothing but a sweet note

Written to these red birds in our hearts

Misty veils and thinly concealed blue sapphires

I see the duel between their gazes

He's brimming with a boyish vibrating glee

And she's beaming like a lamp in the dark

When every day is a drop of sand in the glass

I try to catch them in my hands, but it's futile

What will happen if my fingers were webbed

And the sand were stones?

My dusk falls onto my eyes and I squint in the glow

The sun is already setting on another chapter of my book

So I take my pockets full of color and my heart full of water

And I begin to migrate my way back home.