Voicemail Poetry

My love,

I’ve left to face my music

I’m out to pay my bill

I’ve come away for my comeuppance

I’m ready to take my pill

I tried calling you Monday to tell you about groovy the afterlife is. Then I rang again on Wednesday because I finally remember what I was going to tell you when we were last together. Give me a call back when you can!

I might be gone for a bit, Peter Gabriel and Strings

My love, it’s going going and soon it will be gone. We were always going to be the lost children of Babylon.

• breathe •covet •passing

The Poetry Of Kissing • The Sniper Became A Preacher • •Xxoo •

One • Two • Three poems for February

I saw a red balloon rising

that was once tied to a small hand

floating up like a buttercup

straight to the promised land

I lifted too right up out of my socks

to chase a racing cloud

and as I reached the gates to life

I heard my name called out loud

“John, why are you way up here,” a cirrus asked through the crystals in her lips

I told her that I was abandoning gravity

to avoid the apocalypse

She gladly let me pass

after we shared a glass of rain

that made my heart become a wingless dove

and left me with no shame

as I danced into the stratosphere

I came across a prayer

that long ago had been offered

by a girl with dirty blonde hair

she asked God for a pure heart

and a love that would be true

but her prayer got stuck up in the sky

and for years never could breakthrough

so I took her psalm that had got lost

and wrapped it around my wrist

I promised that I would go find her

and come to know her kiss

I felt the pull of Earth’s long reach

it’s desire for me too great