t o u c h  s   t   o   n   e

poem in progress, not done yet

t o u c h  it comes in twos, doesn’t it?

dark, no, late into the body of the night.  truth resides
anywhere it wants to do, no difference a frown.

it takes the place of gold.  landscape face.
it is joys first step.  landscape feet.
no matter the dress, always welcome at the door.

so that says the who we mean when we say who.

it is everything we care to want.  it is heavens coin.
(it is in every single pocket.) (it wants to be found.)

its favorite color right now is red.  no big deal, you know,
changing desires is as fast as lightning is.  as fast as
I turn the page.

say your name into the air.
feel the reflections coming back (no surprise)
now listen as well, echoes.  inside what feels,

how they mean differently.

charming.     charming the way heaven works.

even tells tales.
there are shelves abundantly.  fall leaves do fall,
do make this floor celebrate.

amber and rust, we say, pretend not by saying yes.
but true, we thirst then joy then thirst, then yes,
your eyes were always first.  not my fault.

it is only to joy they fall.  there is no other soil.

middle of the night, you know, and I could believe
just about any small boys tail, the way they wave

the way they dance.
 
 
 
neil reid © 2015 october

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a real live boy

I just wanted to be a real live boy.

I just wanted to dance, but refused.

I wanted to be bigger than me.
I wanted to let go of that bench.
I wanted a father who was not.    a sky around my arms.

I wanted threads to connect not bind.
I wanted to be not alone, but was, by my word.
I wanted a grilled cheese sandwich.
 
 
I want our distance to melt like sugar does.
I want poems to make a difference.    like meals do.
I want my child to grow.    tall corn reaching the feast.

I want this poem in a pie.

I want seeds to be my feet.    you will find me in weeds.    everywhere.

I want dawn to be fresh turned dirt.    new meanings eager to be.    and are.

I want close to be ripe apples on your limbs.
I want discovery to matter more than measured history.
I want dreams to keep their sleep.    let eyes answer more than doubts.

I want the world to change because I asked.    by world I mean you.
by change I mean raise your hand.

I want your world to look exactly like you.    I want leaves that rise and fall.
I want to share this poem with someone reading me.

I want words better spent upon your lips.

I want what is to be.    I will call it home.

I want wanting to be as water is.

I want a world bigger than my imagination.    your face in each dawn cloud.
 
 
imagine feet kissing earth.

imagine children being found, not lost.

imagine no discomfort without mending embrace.

imagine when you speak heart the world listens you.

imagine blooms like waves.    and the sea.

imagine enough.    that is who you are.

imagine your voice contains what you want life to be.    make it so.
 
 
my legs are trees that walk.
my arms are feathers rooted in sky.

my thoughts do what windows do.
my feelings are water.    and clouds.

my fingers are painting curious.

lips thirst for another thirst.
feet define my home, my shoes.
 
I am here to dance with you.
 
 
neil reid © 2015 october