In a Sense

A late morning sun warms my back
and casts a shadow onto the concrete slab underfoot.
It is Monday,
the First Monday
after a string of Forever Fridays.

I feel new.
Clean.

The air is immense
as it holds me in my place
filling in the empty space where nothing else seems to exist
but colors, intense
reds, blues, yellows.
Greens.

I feel that yesterday may have all
been just a dream
and that tomorrow
perhaps may never be
and so
I breathe it all in, deep
and as it rushes into my lungs and blood and bones
it binds within me,
pulsing into my mind it combines with me,
creating this very perception and memory
of all that I have seen,
of all that I have been,
of all that I know and feel,
all of this love has never been so

natural. Real.

It is Monday,
the First Monday after eternity
and here
now
is where I shall begin again.

by Jason Weaver, 2014

Chasing the Moon

A Lua e a Mata by Jason Weaver_LoveMore
In my younger days,
I chased the moon with a hunger
in pursuit of love and lore.
So far away they seemed,
beyond my every reach–
that soon I starved
in the dark abandon.

I am older now, matured
cured of disillusion
having learned that love
is a not a place that I can seek
not a desire that I can feed
but rather, a way to be — content
and grateful that wherever I go
when I gaze up into the night-time sky
the moon will always be there
to light my way.

by Jason Weaver, 2013

Original painting by Jason Weaver, A Lua e a Mata (2013, acrylic on canvas)

Starry Night

Starry Night

Once,
we stared into the unbearable
darkness at being so
unloved, so
lonely and alone
even between us we were
misunderstood
with our heads hung low
we stood dressed in black
to show them all the
grief they gave us.

Once,
we slept in your room on the floor
and wrapped our selves
in sullen sheets,
where we found solace for our souls
in the woeful words of sad songs,
each lonesome lyric
we assumed, somehow,
meant to save us.

But tonight,
as I gaze between the lights
of a starry night sky
I think once again of us
and I wonder
how we had not understood
that the love and the care
we had so desperately cried for,
longed to die for in
those hours of dour
had always been there, so full and alive
because all that had we ever really needed
was us.

by Jason Weaver ©2013

Linking in with DVerse poetry blog tomorrow and every Tuesday for open link night– come by and read some really fantastic poetry and submit a piece of your own!! Check it out, here.

Author’s Note: Dedicated to my friends from so many years ago…I never knew the love we shared…but because of you, today, I see the light in the darkness ~J

 

Also: After publication, I changed “woe” in the final line of the first stanza back to “grief” which I had in my original draft, and removed one word. ~J

desiRED

HIbiscus

A ruddy flush of desire
transpires at a lingual brush
against my tumescent temperament —

+++our complex convexities
+++enjoined in floral osculations ;

+++our particulate articulations
+++engaged in moral postulations;

+++our exuberant protuberances
+++engorged by oral oscillations;

Come, let us lust
in this rubescent essence,
thrust in the dense
of euphuisitic locution.

by Jason Weaver, 2013

Author’s Note: Linking up with dverse Poet’s Pub for Tuesday Open Link Night— stop by, share a poem, and see what other poets in the blogosphere are doing!