12:51:49am - 6/5/01 - to atg
I certainly do not (a birthday present)
enough vocabulary for the perfect poem, to give you on this special day...
Iím pretty sure and I apologize, but have it, I certainly do not.
and although my sentences are all incomprehensible, I do have much to say.
I try hard, I really do. I understand it is not a lot.
I could write to you until my ink dries out and my papers are gone.
and I could write on my books with pencil, and erase and write again.
still I could for hours tell you the thoughts I have, through the phone.
hang up and begin to mark words on walls and sidewalks, none of them in vain.
I could count the stars while holding one single thought;
going over it and repeating it, in silence, until falling asleep
and dreaming of billions of little bugs, glowing on this rug not ever brought
down. upside down, blue and baggy, dusty and smooth, cover of a hole very deep.
I could hide behind a short fragile bush, until it became a tree,
then a mountain, which would push me to the edge of the world.
making me fall in the hole, carrying the rug, setting all birds and flying bugs free.
letting me wonder in the space to end up burning on the sunís flaming gold.
I could pretend to be a phoenix, and fly back to our open bouncy ball.
make the streets dirty, as any big bird would.
go to public places, read signs supposed to keep me out. go to the mall,
to buy a rainbow-maker - a prism. and use the sun as everyone should.
I could wake up, but I donít know if Iím dreaming right now.
or I could go to sleep in my dream and remain sleeping forever;
lose reality and everything else. fall in the hole and go down,
very far. never be able to climb back up, or stop falling. never, ever!
It frightens and amuses me. my eyes are closing and Iím fading,
away from the words I want to say to you. so now I try
to finish this poem, and I know I canít. my eyes keep bathing
themselves with tears, as I yawn attempting to say good-bye.
I look at your picture on my desk and the ones I have on my mind.
conflicts happen in my head... for so much is the stuff stored.
I need a faster clock, to process more efficiently. so to find
my final words. if ever I had a final one, I scored!
or maybe I did not and it was good. Ďcause you still get
to read my writing, enjoy it, and hate me for not shutting up.
I have only one more thing to put here and I can bet
that you know what it will be. yeah, I know it shouldnít come up!
this is, I promise, my last stanza.
Iíll be brief to let you do what you have to do.
run from the cold rain, donít catch influenza!
and know always: I love you more than I say I do.
::: back :::