step out of line

[moseley]

it feels like winter, even when we kiss

and I am the toaster in the window

turned on and alive, but I feel the back row

and I am holding my chest, hoping my heart will hold on

sometimes, I just wanted to hold out my arms

hold them out as far as I could stretch

and spin around and take in joy

but I kept it quiet sometimes, straight lipped

and keeping close in the corner

with a shadow for a blanket,

for fear was my master, the very vase I made

made with my own hands in a closed room

on a silent potter's wheel, crafting every

inch of a skyscraper that blotted out that sun

and everyone was on that sheet of music

someday, if I waited, just what I wanted

would at least be a portion on a plate

that just once I could take in, maybe savor

I breathed, I blinked and those moments went

maybe while I slept brushing dream horses

I could never ride

it rarely feels like spring when things begin to grow

it is like they are strangled on some roots of the past

I forget to furrow under or grew around me

and I was always at the window, looking out

or looking in....either way, I was alone

behind the glass, and wanting one more scraped knee

to see the songbird in the tree and feel

I have never felt stronger than when I walk out a door

more alive when I touched the songs I have written

all in my heart, sheltered from the world

and for a moment I set them free

and hear what they mean to others

but I know nothing of me

sometimes it is always summer

and I feel the heat, and I can bear the blister

but I can never fall in love, or really fall at all

because I have an altitude deficiency perhaps

and so often, these years, have gone by

and I like some hopeful flowerful germ in a bulb

have been waiting for the permafrost of my illusion

for just one day in spring

with my arms outstretched

and my face in the sun

and for all but one moment,

for I and the world that I am in

to be simultaneously one....

to be someone

and set forth my song

regardless of its reception

to just know, simply

that somehow...

I too belong.

[phantasm]

Good to see you around again, man. Keep em coming.

[anirbas]

Oh, you belong, alright. And you belong, right here. As do I. I spend to much precious time in Looney Land aka Facebook, when I should be here. LoL Or as David tells me, I should be putting together my next book of poetry instead of being on Fb. LoL From the bed where he is on Fb on his phone...LoL Oh, this age and all it's "miracles"...I swear we are living on a STar TRek set. hehe

[heartfelt7]

Just strolled in to find some wonderful poetry, and as usual got lost in Moseley's "poetic wonder" - I may not be able to read or write again until I can get these words out of my mind, which hopefully will never happen. Exalt (anyway)!!!!!

[phantasm]

Hey, Heartfelt. How're you doing lately?

Yeah, the poem has a good cadence to it.

[anirbas]

I wish we could spirit Moseley back to our metaphorical lounge, Heartfelt. I still read his writing on his Facebook page, under the moniker of Juan Castrocafe, I believe. If you'd like to look him up there to read his latest works. Sometimes, I feel like Facebook killed the poetry forums. Some of you, I've known from seven to eleven years, either from poetry forums I frequented, or hosted, as in this one. When you all disappear, I feel like a hen that has lost her dratted chicks. Hahaha Henny Penny! My wish for 2015-that many, if not all of the poets return to the halls here in, at least on a quarterly basis. However, I do understand. I was a far more dedicated admin here, before I took a full time job, myself, in 2007. So, I can't guilt, nor shall I, any poet for their absence. Unless the guilt trip works...hahahahahhah