In Addition

So, the past seven poems were all part of a set, each one for a day leading up to Valentine's Day. Hope you liked them. Also, here is another poem (they just keep on coming!).

I stood in the depths of the forest
Encased in a field of bark and pine
Staring at the glow of the sky
And as the embers fell from the night’s tapestry
In oranges, reds, and whites,
Peacefully descending to the ground
She stands there enveloped in moonglow
The fire drops crash upon her
Radiance blinds the heart
Crushing it with light and sound
Drowning out crickets and noisy leaves
Until light can no longer be heard, but felt.

Anthony C, "Fire Drops"

There were rose petals everywhere
A million petals couldn’t apologize for my own wrong-doings
So I had hoped with what little I could gather
You’d at least hear me out.
The caramel kisses on the floor
Sparkled into words and forgiveness
There were rose petals everywhere
On the beds, on the floor, in my heart
All united in the same message, one voice
Shouting out to the world my desires.
There were rose petals everywhere
As baby’s breath wafted from the ceiling
And the crown of my bed frame.
The music played our favorite songs unwittingly
Though I had a guess at what you’d like.
There were rose petals everywhere
As the yellows, oranges, violets, and whites
Flashed on and off in my hands
That bouquet of light burning
In the darkness of my room.
There were rose petals everywhere
Friends put them there with blistered hands
I could not count all the helping hands to thank them.
There were rose petals everywhere
As you entered that room, unknown to me,
With light-up roses in your head
And rose petals in your heart.

Anthony C, "There Were Rose Petals Everywhere"

How do you tell someone
You can spend the rest of your life with them?
Do you say that you can see
The house you’ll live in?
The older brother sitting in his room playing violin?
Perhaps the older daughter,
Walking through the front door
After being dropped off from the mall
By her seven month boyfriend.
Maybe it’s the little daughter
Running to her mother’s open arms
Lamenting over her fragile little toe
Throbbing in pain after tripping going up the stairs.
Maybe it’s when I pick her up and carry her
To her bed and lay her to sleep for her afternoon nap,
Serenaded by her sweet older brother
Playing Mozart, Bach, and Yellowcard
Slowly on his violin.
Maybe it’s when I walk down the creaking stairs
Of our two-story home to you waiting at the bottom
With that grin you always give me
When you look into my eyes.
Maybe it’s when we step outside
To the porch and rest our weary legs
On our porch swing, feeling the breeze
As we lightly rock back and forth,
Never stopping looking into each other’s eyes.

Anthony C, "Porch Swing"

I remember the pond
Our feet dangling over the wooden dock
The strands of your hair as they were tugged by the breeze
The sparkle of the pond as the sun rested
Its weary glow upon the shimmering surface
The birds flew over our heads with a schedule;
To them it was a Manhattan Monday.

I remember your eyes
Those brown spheres that gazed with a purpose,
Penetrating all that they perceived
I could not help but shiver
When those spheres were cast upon me
Your brows remained aloft,
As if strings pulled at them;
Those strings elude me still.

I remember the pain
That existed inside of you,
How deceitful your smile can be
How no stone was left unturned,
No memory locked away from me
Yet you were always laughing.

I remember the heartbeat
I could hear from your chest
Drowning out the birds,
Drowning out the creak of the dock.
In the silence of the pond,
I remember our heartbeats shattered the silence.

Anthony C, "As We Continue To Shatter The Silence"

The girl with night-stained hair
The girl with the steel-framed brow,
Absolute with resolve and determination
The girl with elastic eyebrows,
Capable of expressions limited only by her imagination
The girl with the minx eyelashes,
Tempting me to bed, stealing away the hours
Like the thief in the shadows
The girl with the wooden eyes,
A single black knot in each trunk
Made of charcoal ready to set me ablaze
The girl with the vanilla cream nose,
Taking me in with every breath
The girl with the fire cherry lips,
Just as hot, just as sweet
The girl with the sandpapered chin
Made from alabaster smoothed into silk
The girl with the boxer’s shoulders
Always ready to put up a fight
Never ready to lose
The girl with the love-vice arms
Clenching to everything with pasty pinchers
Determined to let all air escape
Before letting go
The girl with the sewer’s hands
Callous from work,
Delicate from experience
The girl with the honey bread breasts
Nourishing and well-crafted
The girl with the talkative navel
Speaking gibberish only we can understand
The girl with the rock-founded thighs
Always standing like the Egyptian pyramids
For all that she believes in
The girl with the glued knees
Never buckling under fear with the power of the Ocean
Crashing down, shoving those under it to the ground
The girl with the ice cold feet
That feel so warm next to me
As we lie in bed, ready to sleep
The girl who puts the night’s blanket over the day
And tucks the sun into bed with a crescent moon smile
And as she leaves me in the morning
The rest of the world leaves my bed with her.

Anthony C, "The Girl With My Heart"

Two kids in the Center
Both involved and confused
It might have been otherwise
Torn between the past and present
Always looking to the future
Never sure of what we will find
I expected to see you there
But I never expected what I found
As I hobbled into that crowded room
Cozy, yet full of tension
It might have been otherwise
My gnarled stomach drowning in knots
Was untwisted as the crowd left us
In peace and the muted glare of the TV
Every step toward you was a leap
Never sure of where my feet may fall
It might have been otherwise
You were bursting with giggles
Throwing pillows like they were punches
As the computer sat in the corner
The flashing green light telling me to go
Yet I waited
It might have been otherwise
We searched the whole room
Always finding something else to say
Never finding where those hours went
Where they hid themselves away
We were stretched out that night
Torn between two thoughts
It might have been otherwise
The mellow yellow crashing to the floor
Funny how I only drink Mountain Dew now
I remember cleaning up the gallons
Heads held high, mouths grinned
The warmth of the blankets
The warmth of meeting you
The cold of the separate couches
I was shivering under that heat
It might have been otherwise
And as we left our separate ways that morning
Resisting the urge to run back to you
I remember saying to myself
One day, it will be otherwise.

Anthony C, "It Might Have Been Otherwise"

Driving in the car with no destination
Yet our hearts drove towards each other
Encased in the heat of the car,
Heat of the moment,
Heat of the fire that burned within us
You never stopped smiling
As we went through the winding roads
Until we saw what we were looking for
Never knowing we had wanted to be there
Since the moment we were born
A field of dark green blades,
Overshadowed by a sickly white shack
In the cloak of the night
We laid among those blades
Shivering in each other’s arms
Staring into the depths of the sky,
That dwarfing plane of white ember
Construed by forces no less powerful
Than Fate, Destiny, or Love
I wish I could takes those lightbeads
And place them around your neck
Create a ring of white ember from their awing power
And promise you my heart.
Alas, that power eludes me
So instead, take these words
That are within my grasp
And let me adorn you in my love.

Anthony C, "White Ember"

Oops.

Hi! I wrote a bunch of poems, but I forgot to put them up for a long time (major procrastination). Here they all are, post by post.

2 double AA Powercells
Giving life to confused electrons
Shuffling in circles for the greater picture
Fake plastic, fake wrapping, fake stems
Fake leaves, fake petals; real meaning
Deeper than the systematic orange
Or the predictable violet
Casting its hue on the swooning recipient
Amazed at such a cute and trifle gimmick
Let it be wasted upon such gawkers
Who stand jaw dropped in yellow light
Or maybe perplexed in a white shade
Let them flock in packs to see the spectacle
It isn’t theirs to behold anyway
These roses do not shine for them
Let them think that if they like
The roses know their lord and respect only him
The roses cherish only whom he dictates
And while the rose light may be wasted on the passerby
The petals will be saved for you and you alone.

Anthony C, "Light-up Roses"