A Season Of Fire...

Post by AquarianM on Jan 9, 2010 at 7:07am

A Season Of Fire...

In the mist of distant memories you dance,
Twirling on a pedestal I know should be burned to the ground,
Bedazzling and life-like though you are more a china doll,
Though exquisite in detail not real,
The memory of my deepest blush,
Object of obsessive worship,
Where I fell to the darkest cold depths of frozen Hell,
In the aftermath of encountering the reality,
Of loving and living with you.

Despite the fire in eyes of cinnamon,
Despite your hair down,
Despite the platinum sweet of my tongue,
I couldn't satisfy your twisted fires,
I was a square peg - by nature not nurture,
There was no way I could learn what you needed me to be,
Because just knowing isn't enough.

I remember the Heaven of you in the soft crush of my arms,
Only for one Summer,
All my life I'll carry a torch I can't put out,
Giving my love honestly somewhere else,
Tormented and blessed,
By the memory of a season of fire.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/09/2010

Artists’ Card Project – Ace Of Hearts

Working on a project with 54 other artists, mostly from the Madison, WI area, to create a deck of cards. I picked the Ace of Hearts as my card. Here’s the final artwork version.

Keep looking up,

Dan

Click to enlarge pic

He flashes through clouds and vapors,

Ducking birds on the wing,

Scarf whipping in the prop-wash,

A race with Cupid to be won,

For there in his sights lies the most tender target,

A beating lonely heart,

Wishing and hoping for just that one shot,

The one that ends it all,

In a flash of ever-after joy,

He tips the stick forward and dives for it,

Goggles gleamingly clear,

He pulls the trigger on love,

Raining it down from on high,

A bubble that can’t be burst,

Not even by the light of day.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

(C) 2014 Poetry & artwork.

​
Dan Stafford November 9, 2014

Silent As A Stone...

Silent As A Stone...

I never knew silence,
Could be so blue.

I never knew that nothing,
Would come from you.

Every time I try to speak,
Or to even sing,
You break my tune.

Some kind of instinct,
Some sad power play,
Something I don't quite understand,
What makes you act this way?

I never knew silence,
Could be so blue.

I never knew that nothing,
Would come from you.

Every time I try to speak,
Or to even sing,
You break my tune.

If I wrote you a love poem,
You'd dis that too,
It's something I've already,
Watched you do.

When we're with friends,
You shut me up,
Ask me why,
I don't communicate,
It's so late,
My turn,
Never came up.

I never knew silence,
Could be so blue.

I never knew that nothing,
Would come from you.

Every time I try to speak,
Or to even sing,
You break my tune.

I wonder,
Oh,
I wonder if,
The Universe,
Maybe put you up to this,
You like to keep me silent,
Silent as a stone,
Inside my head,
Locked up,
And all alone.

I never knew silence,
Could be so blue.

I never knew that nothing,
Would come from you.

Every time I try to speak,
Or to even sing,
You break my tune.

Silent as a stone,
Inside my head and locked up,
All alone.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/23/2017

A Highly-Charged Particle...

A Highly-Charged Particle...

The stress of the pennies,
They don't rain from Heaven.

A bucket of marital bliss,
Wrapped in a dollar-sign bow.

The wires buzz and hum.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/08/2017

Rembrandt Sleeping, poem #24

The She-Devil Of Hanover Pit...

The She-Devil Of Hanover Pit...

I can't believe it!
She bought me a speedo one size too small,
Took me out to Hanover on a sunny week day.

This old gravel pit has a beautiful beach,
And a solid thirty-foot cliff to leap from,
And now it has her.

She caught me by the broken heart strings,
Near twin to my first love,
But love wasn't what she wanted to pull,
No - I wouldn't call it exactly that.

I was just over nineteen,
She maybe the same,
Only the two of us and her little sister,
The beach all to ourselves.

All hands and no modesty,
She wanted to show me off,
Took me past caring about being a trophy,
My only relief to dive in,
Too late for staring eyes.

Oh,
I could tell you stories about that one,
Oh,
I could indeed,
But I want you to live.

Nineteen hundred and eighty-two was an interesting year.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/07/2016

Author's note:
True story. Like any good story, there's a LOT more to it. I couldn't help it, Goldenmyst tossed my Muse right back into my personal gutter! Lol

She Speaks Yinglish, He Speaks Yanglish...

She Speaks Yinglish, He Speaks Yanglish...

A wise man once sang that love is all you need,
A lot of it indeed.

Did I ever tell you I worked for a communications company?

Twenty-one point five years in fact,
Connecting all corners of the globe,
Data and voice as far as Antarctica,
As near as down the street.

I wonder how many trillion words are spoken each year,
Trying to get across the great divide?

"Turn left, turn right, do the dishes tonight."

To quote the fabulous Joan Jett,
"Do you wanna touch,
Do you wanna touch,
Do you wanna touch me there,
Where,
There,
Yeah?"

Exactly where that center in the male/female brain is,
The one that gets the exact image and emotion I mean,
To be recognized and understood.

Twenty minutes is forever,
Only to find you've both said the same thing,
All unknowingly.

Thankfully we have a lotta love,
To make things turn out right.

"No, go left here!!"

AquarianM

(C) 09/28/2016
By: Daniel A. Stafford