GIGANTIC LEMON GUM DROP

GIGANTIC LEMON GUM DROP

Quiet is the night, cascading sweetly o’er the village,
The sun gigantic lemon gum drop explodes into the moon.
I think of you at end of day, a savior coming to me soon.

Quiet is your smile, that spreads its holy visage,
Here and there and everywhere, the nooks and crannies of my soul,
Like a toasty English muffin that you craftily stole.
And noisy is the world outside, its cannon fire goes rumbling.
One by one its mighty soldiers fall and go a tumbling.

But love’s a wonderland of grace, I find within your precious face,
Riding high in my esteem, a soft and wondrous golden dream.
And quiet is so far away, until I reach this threshold.
Wearily I make my way up these magic carpet stairs.
And lay my body down to rest, unloading all these heavy cares.
They fall like lead upon the floor, this entranceway enchanted.
I cherish this, I relish this, I take it not for granted.

And quiet comes the setting sun, after all is said and done.
And as I close my weary eyes, you are my precious wondrous prize.
I wait amidst the darkness and know that you are coming soon.
The sun gigantic lemon gum drop explodes into the moon.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2010
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

MY LOVER AND MY FORTRESS

Note: This past week Kyle and I celebrated our ninth year anniversary. We first met August 18th, 2001. In honor of the occasion, below is one of the first poems I wrote for him. I thank him for a beautiful nine years, and here's to the rest of our lives together!

MY LOVER AND MY FORTRESS

The contours of your body,
as you lie within my grasp.

Legs entwined and bare feet touching,
in the cool of love-fed sheets.

The hairs on your back and neck beckon erotically,
And I feel tender for you, protective and proud.

You came and kidnapped me,
tied up my heart,
pillaged it like a bandit,
And keep it as a prized possession
to spirit you through the day.

And I have fallen oh so hard,
hurled down a flight of fancy,

Stricken by a bout with the porker Cupid,
Frazzled and weak in the knees.

And like a naked prince you kneel before me,
I see your smile and decipher your soul.

A distribution of body hair that drives me to distraction,
A sweet expanse of gentle man, my lover and my fortress.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2010
(first composed in 2002)
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

GIFTS

GIFTS

Gifts fall unbidden into our laps, they catch us unawares.
The cutest baby in her bonnet, the puppy on the leash.

The kind word of a stranger, that heals a wayward heart
And rescues hope like a refugee, flailing in the ocean.

Gifts ask for nothing, they charm and beguile,
Dressed in bows and ribbons that sail in the breeze.

A chiseled young man on a sandy shore,
A big bosomed lady in the market square,
Wearing a rose in her long flowing tresses.

Gifts arrive, arms outstretched in myriad disguises
And laid at our doorsteps by a cosmic UPS.

The lover who surprises with a noontime rendezvous,
His kisses holy mischief that punctuate the air.

Gifts in their timeliness blow us off course
As the wreckage of the day surrounds us,
And we butt up against the final frontier,
Scavengers for peace, lost in our death and our dust.

Gifts bind our hearts in a desperate thanksgiving,
And we bow bent and humbled, aching to trust.

The years leave us starving, too few morsels fall,
Like manna from God in a snit of benevolence.

So fill up your basket, though the favors are few,
With the sweet smell of hyacinths drenched in redemption.

The gifts that fall unbidden in slow, languid motion
And keep us here yet one more day to traipse this lonesome planet.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2010
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

PIERCING EVERY BUBBLE

PIERCING EVERY BUBBLE

Cruising on a bad patch, on a slippery road,
I drove into a snow bank, losing all control.

Saw you in my rear view, gathering up the rubble,
Leaving me with nothing to show for all my trouble.

At the end of a winding hall, I saw you in your judge’s gown.
You clutched a piece of parchment and you waved it up and down.

Pronouncing sentence in a monotone on the thrills our hearts did seek,
Condemning me with withered stares from upon your mountain peak.

On a slippery slope I climbed to greet you,
With wounded hands that cracked and bled,

Broken glass lodged in my hair, the shards encased my head.

You looked at me accusingly, a scornful furious gaze,
Venom dripping from your eyes, your ruby lips ablaze.

You hissed that I’d betrayed you, you thundered from your throne
And the weak excuse I offered up, it left you cold as stone.

A lover’s penance you demanded, nothing more and nothing less,
And like a vagrant I was stranded, lost in emptiness.

Cruising on a bad patch, on a slippery road,
I launched into a snow bank, losing all control.

Saw you in the distance, searching through the rubble,
Stomping on my every dream, piercing every bubble.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2010
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED