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Posts Tagged ‘love poem’

Love After Love

You noticed a floorboard slightly out of place,
under it, you found a poem, a love poem,
you read it and saved it in the piles of things
we become,
that was forty years ago.

Folded and tucked away through decades
drifting from house to house and box to box,

it followed you

people lived, loved, and died as usual.

You lost love.

But you found that poem again,
it had never left,
you read it, gave it new breath, so now,
forty years later you’ve discovered
it was a love poem from a man to
another man,
kept under the floor and under shame,
hidden in confused tragedy
under the weight of the piles
of the things we become
and like blowing on a fire
you sparked love again
long after it was lost,

so a lost wife is not lost,
she loves you in a different way now,
her breath reaches you in delicate things
like the way a feather flutters down from the sky
or a snowflake dances to touch and
melt on the tip of your ear.

To love in whispers from re-read paper,
whispers from the warming sky full
of all of your breath and mine and hers and ours and theirs.

A poem and love, decades ago,
lured you in,
shifted shapes
to show you
there is love
after love.

 

Kyle McHale        2016

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Love on its Own

There is nothing love won’t do for itself
When left enough alone and on its own.
A festering burst of blossoming plumes
Of red liquid dripping on long preserved tombs,

Of daisies pushed up through old lover’s dirt,
A long ago tale of harsh loving truth,
That spoke of a journey known by so few,
But when told to others everyone knew

What to do, and what was best and who was who.
For the unknown is what to truly do,
And guided love lasts out the rest,
Like a frozen moment when the sun must crest

On new day’s horizon, an early breath
Stretching far across a valley or sea,
Where ever it happens to be just then,
Love the beginning and love at the end.

Kyle McHale         2013

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Roses

Come close, come close, then whisper down,
Quiet as a soundless sound.
So close to touch a beauty rose,
That swirls love into the nose,

With petals wound into a bulb,
Like secrets that the lovers told,
Those among those scared scents,
Questioning all loves innocence.

A gardener knows to wear his gloves,
Tending to his lovely loves,
Sneaking under and crawling out
Of all the smoke that’s dressed as clouds,

While others plant up in the sky,
Then let red petals wilt and die.
To dance at times that deadly dance,
Safe in the ground or sky with chance.

A story that a heart may know
Against good judgment from the soul,
To pick a hanging dripping red,
That love is life, the rest is dead.

Kyle McHale      2010

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You in the Winter

And so I see you with me forever
In a snowy world wood.
The kind that would kill a lonely man
But give magic to true love.
In those woods flurries do fall softly.
The whiteness consumes all but
The slender grey tree trunks that decorate.

It is the calm of embracing perfection.
A place where only two voices are ever heard;
Mine and yours.

We would smile and play in the landscape.
A painting on a wall that has been kind enough to
Let us crawl into it and become lost forever.
In its dead dreamy scene.
Dead to those who cannot enter,
Dreamy to those who are let in.

Such frigid air burns the lungs
But our warm clothes are bundled high
And our hearts are burning red.
Our breaths are seen,
Like dragons breathing smoke.
They cross and swirl together,
Drawing us to one another.

The cold breath,
A breath that reminds the living they are so.
A breath that carries pure beauty,
A breath that is so perfect
No man should be given rights to see it.

You in the winter, breathing.
Moments of triumph and of love.
You in the winter bundled up and beautiful,
In this landscape from my most precious dreams.
No one will ever share this with me,
Except maybe a brown deer, or a red fox.

Kyle McHale      2005

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Waiting Star

In all the eternal empty space
Where one falls out to everything,
Sometimes a dizzy blinding search
Forces the eyes past skies on earth

To see what fills that emptiness.
What floats and glows with faint warm light
At night when darkness is what shows,
When one is lost and seeks to know

How that light can come closer in.
Then at some point a truth appears,
Little lights and searching feet
Notice each and seek to meet,

To travel out so that faint light
Takes night away and brightens day.
For there you are, there you are,
Waiting for me like a star,

Hanging beauty in the deep
Areas where few do find,
And fewer still will travel there,
But I have found you passed earth’s air.

For darkness arrived to keep you
Somewhere faint and dim, out and lost,
Just waiting to send light my way,
Then catching the warmth I hope that stays.

For there you are, there you are,
Waiting for me like a star,
I only prayed for other things,
Not knowing what your warm light brings.

Kyle McHale      2011

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