Monday, December 19, 2011

Tower

tireless towers jut from ground
terrestrial beings talking around
penetrates innocence within the steel
beaming a radiant, invisible sound

seeming to sway into the clouds
staring up, the sky surrounds
the pinnacle of our perfect zeal
to perpetuate simple souls aloud

we rise and fall and then rebound
aspiring somewhat above the mound
from the toil, sweat and dirt we seal
willed divination, damn the downed

pressing forward to sign the deal
to release the god inside the wheel

— Jason Kichline

Thursday, December 8, 2011

"What Ifs"

whispering eyes and a nodded grin
you opened up and drew me in
I remember us without regret
in rebuilt moments years forget

a sheen on brunette locks within
an innocence revealed upon pale skin
smooth and touchable, wanted whet
I caress the realities I've never met

our laughter still carries on longing's winds
flirting with frolicked could-have-beens
you paid my heart with passions meant
to write a check I would've gladly spent

for an exchange of touch or a cautioned sin
might have changed a past rescinded
but instead we came and saw and went
two parallel paths that bumped and bent

looking back, if we knew then
of becomings begun back who knows when
would we have wandered from windows lent
of opportunities found in chances sent?
but now time and space and fate transcends
these "what ifs" wafting between our ends

Jason Kichline

Friday, July 15, 2011

Jeremy

his calm quiet precedes his presence
like consistent ticks of timed progression
he sculpts the pages with careful chisels
both in digital and temporal essence

neat and buttoned like perfection
luring it out like true confession
quiet whispers that make a noise
impacting masses in coalescence

the journey starts, the journey ends
either here or there or beyond the bends
and in the middle we find simple joys
with friends found in mere acquaintance

as one we witness your evanescence
lauding your greatness as acquiescence

Monday, June 6, 2011

Scythe

fresh vines sprouted from innocent roots
a kind face, a gentle spirit, your warmth
I wanted to hold your hand and sing above the noise
shout over the stagnant affairs of life

but as soon as closeness developed verdant shoots
you cut me deep, quick, pressing in cold
and I had a fear I didn't know I had; grace and poise
forsaken to your hardened knife

I desired only to taste your unforbidden fruits
you, a friend, a lover in my yet unrecovered truth
I suppose I crave you, desiring your sweetened joys
I suppose you saw yourself as this perfect wife

my vows now unspeakable. Silence and time dilutes
eroding memories and possibilities unearthed
but your taste remains on the tip of my soul as fate toys
with my harvested hopes on a rusted scythe