The word fine is the frame of a pistol that grips to callused hands
When you think of the word fine as an answer, you move your finger to trigger ready to shoot a lie
When you hear the word fine it’s the scraping of the lie as it ravels through the barrel and into the world
Not causing damage to anyone it hits, but to the person who said it.
See when you say the word fine to describe how you’re doing
Youre attaching a silencer to the pistol in your callused hands, hoping to hide the sound of your anguish so others around can feel comfortable
But for your sake
Know that
the more you suppress your demons
The more you shoot out lies
The more self inflicted gun shot wounds youre going to have and eventually those wounds will spell out the word
Fine.
Be mine until the sun dies
Be mine until the oceans flood
Be mine until the moon falls
Be mine until skies break down
Be mine until my heart fails me
Be mine until my soul ravels
Be mine until my body cheats me
Be mine until I collaborate with death
Be mine beyond life itself
BCause I'm yours
In life
&
After death
In your eyes my dear blue oceans ravels and in your hair night get lost
Between your lips a poet lose his words and vanquish his thoughts
A circulation of a full moon I see in your face and a breeze from God heavens come out from your breaths
It’s not every day that you see a smile on my face
I wake with a sadness on days of sunshine
I get up, wear a butterfly necklace for inspiration that ravels me in
an inner place of peace.
I am at a standstill; frozen in a fixed position like a mannequin, but I am real.
With a beating heart and a breathing lung but, I am broken.
; Angry that I can’t take flight.
I miss my plane every time.
My engine’s non-responsive, my gears won’t shift.
Perchance I am not the right pilot.
It could be I am on the wrong runway.
See the butterflies! How do they do it? Their graceful flights of watercolor always smiling in wind.
I wish I could smile.
I wish I were a butterfly.
But first I need to fix this broken wing.
A room outside
A room outside the complex weary mind that ravels to its tether
A secret domain that is free of memories and condition forever
A simple space with which to design without weight or measure
A lasting perfume of such smells that radiate pure pleasure
A flock of birds of all colours fly around me and gather
A time as short or long that winter may come never
A sky so blue that the earth’s food grows quicker
A waterfall surrounded by flowers floating into a quiet ancient river
A notion of a great mountain in the distance that shines purple when the sun grows dimmer
A little mouse in my pocket will talk to me and flies upon a swan’s feather
A huge pink moon rises as I make a fire then me and my mouse eat marsh mellows for our dinner
A shooting star blazes across the night sky and I make a wish that we were still together
To think God had a plan for me
All woven in a tapestry,
Perhaps with golden thread.
Every time I’ve turned to ask
Somehow I’ve learned to do the task
Toward which I’ve been led.
Ravels from willfulness, He mends.
Yes, from damage he defends
Opens my eyes that I might see,
Frail threads in my tapestry.
My guardian angel staying near,
Yanking me from abyss of fear.
Lovely shades of dark and light,
Iridescence day and night,
Fragile knitting made much stronger
Each day as tapestry grows longer.
I love to write on facebook.
Friends on there know I do.
I skip gaming distractions.
I chat with folks like you!
We post our pretty pictures.
And write our poems below.
Sometimes some friendly lectures
Can make our thinking grow.
No matter where a heart may lead,
Or where imagination travels,
Someone is there to share, indeed!
And trim our flaws and ravels.
A poet friend is a special friend.
His soul delves very deep.
Kindly words he will always lend.
Without complaint or peep!
God bless my friends around the world.
Each one brings me great joy.
It is with friends and love unfurled
That imagination whirls…oh boy!
So, thank you for your friendship.
Real world folks visit cyberspace.
Shining kindness without one blip!
Sharing their soul and their face.
© February 8, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Sitting here thinking
After just talking with you,
My heart no longer sinking,
I, no longer feeling blue.
Ravels bolero,
Playing ever so softly,
The flute as the nightingale,
Such a beautiful song as it should be.
Thoughts rushing through my head,
My beautiful thoughts of you,
Thoughts I would never dread,
Thoughts of what I want to do.
You lying across your bed,
Bedspread of white with pink flowers,
Sugarplums rushing through our heads,
We could lie like this for hours.
You know how I feel,
You have known for so long,
You know my feelings are real,
It is here where you belong.
There is no other,
There never could be,
It is you in stormy weather,
Your touch so gently.
Our hearts beat one together,
The way it should be,
I want to be with you forever,
Will you marry me?
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