Tag Archives: poem

Quadradic Equation

Lonely
isn’t
being alone
on a cold
November evening
watching the trees
release their orange
confetti
into the wind
and lonely
has nothing to do
with silence
or the dark shadows
that slowly
enter your room
and lonely
isn’t
in the open space
between the stars—
lonely
is the
navigable road
between two houses
it’s the closable
distance
that goes unclosed
lonely
is your otherwise
empty hand
holding
a photograph
of someone
you love
who loved you
not enough
to feel the absence
of your face
as a problem
that needed to be
examined
and solved.

 

 

DeMaris
11-13-17

Cuddles

Sometimes
all you want
is something
so simple
the words
you must use
to ask for it
feel too complex
and redundant
so you remain
silent—
hoping that
the one you love
will feel you
slipping under
and without
even asking
if you need
a hand
will pull you
back up
to the surface
and hold you
until you’re
ready to let go.

 

 

DeMaris
4-25-17

“The Kiss” Gustav Klimt, 1908

Your Name

I know one day
I’ll be buried
under these memories
instead of your body
draped so casually
over mine
because I’m running
out of excuses
for why I need
the entire Sunday
afternoon to do
what could be done
on any other day
in half the time—
and those lies I tell
are so flimsy
and weakened
by my love for you
that it’s just
a matter of time
before I’ll come clean
with a confession—
and your name will
be so heavy
down in my heart
I don’t know how
I’ll lift it into my voice
without breaking.

 

 

 

 

DeMaris
4-4-17

“The Lovers” by Rene Magritte, 1928

How it Happened

Slowly and
unintentionally
over time
then quickly
until all of a sudden
you and I were
no longer separate
and found ourselves
in private
conversations
that led to us
admiring
the same trees
listening
to the same birds
and crossing
the same ravine
to end up
in an embrace
that felt like
a tight bud
about to burst open
into something
extraordinary
because both of us
found what we
were looking for—
a soil so fertile
we could bury
the past
beneath us
and still bloom.

 

 

 

 

DeMaris
2-13-17

Photograph by Ansel Adams

Shadow of Doubt

Maybe we
should end today—
put our love to rest
softly
before it begins
to want too much—
before it starts
to feel disappointed
by all these limits
we keep touching
when we want
to find each other
in the mess
of days—
haven’t we lived
long enough
to know happiness
will return to us
after it takes a leave
of absence?
Here in the dark
morning I know
the sun will blossom
soon and bring us
a pink promise
that thousands
of days are still ours
to live—
and this day
might be the hardest
and the longest
but somehow
we’ll survive it too.

 

 

 

 

DeMaris
2-12-17