Friday, February 26, 2010

IT MEANS SO MUCH TO HAVE YOU

IT MEANS SO MUCH TO HAVE YOU

It means so much to have you,
In the sacred morning time,
When songbirds fill the air with tunes
And the churchyard vespers chime.

To brush a hand against your chest,
To lie awake and sigh,
To cherish how you rescued me
Just in the nick of time.

It means so much to have you in the dusty afternoon,
When the sun hangs high above us,
Beating down its mellow tune.

To think of you throughout the day,
To hold you in my soul.
To walk the walk of faithfulness
Within this heart you stole.

It means so much to have you in the evenings of our dreams,
When we cuddle in these covers and show what passion means.

It means so much to have you,
When the demons stake their claims.
When the terrors come to grip me
And the shadows call my name.

To feel your hands upon my skin,
Your legs entwined with mine,
As the sun dies in the evening mist
And the stars begin to shine.

It means so much to have you, in the sacred twilight time,
When the night birds croon and warble
And the evening vespers chime.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2007
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Thursday, February 25, 2010

TO EMBRACE ANOTHER RAINBOW

NOTE: THE FOLLOWING IS NOT SO MUCH A POEM ABOUT SUICIDE AS IT IS A POEM ABOUT HOPE AND ABOUT LOVE. IT WAS WRITTEN OBVIOUSY DURING A VERY DARK TIME IN MY LIFE (BEFORE THE ANTI-DEPRESSANTS KICKED IN!) AND I NOTE THAT I AM STILL HERE TODAY, DOING QUITE WELL, THANK YOU. BUT IF YOU ARE FEELING SUICIDAL, PLEASE CALL THE NATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION HOTLINE AT 1-800-273-8255. AND REMEMBER TO EMBRACE THE RAINBOW!

TO EMBRACE ANOTHER RAINBOW

Sometimes it’s all too much,
Here at the end of what I call life,
Here at the ebb of what I used to call my powers.
The ingratitude of my fellow man,
The dwindling of my useful hours.
Sometimes it’s all too much,
Living here in the darkness of my brain,
Substantia nigra deteriorating,
Cells dying in a blackening rain.
How much of my sadness is real
And how much a mirage?
How much is my imagination, how much a façade?

Do people care as little as they sometimes appear,
Leaving me lost in my maze of dread and fear.
And if I were to take a razor blade
And slide it up and down my wrist
And end it all right here and now,
Would my death then have a special twist,
And give anyone a moment’s pause.
To wish they had been kinder somehow
To me and my sensitive soul in its final sensitive hours?

Sometimes it’s all too much and I feel unloved by anyone,
And nothing I do is ever enough to bring back the renegade
sun.
Sometimes the joy arrives too late to ever have a chance
And sometimes the tango dancer leaves you in the middle of the dance.

Sometimes I think too irrationally to see any light at all
And long to pack it in too soon before the night should fall too hard.
My heart a broken crystal, nothing left but useless shards,
To be swept up in some tired dust bin, laid to rest like final ashes.
My former self a distant memory, a few random brilliant flashes,
That flickered and burned out like some hapless fuse.
An empty vessel no one sails on or even cares to use.

Sometimes it’s all too much, and I feel that razor on my wrist,
And heaven’s just a slice away, gleaming bright like an amethyst.
Sometimes it’s all too much, and it’s only that I love you so,
That I care to live another day, to embrace another rainbow.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2008
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Sunday, February 21, 2010

EUNUCH

EUNUCH

I read your death notice, sterile and bizarre,
And felt as though I had been toppled by a careless speeding car.

And I say this not to blame, I don’t even know their name.
But someone in their infinite wisdom reduced you to a phantom
Who never loved either woman or man
And seeing you reduced this way was somehow more than I could stand.

For I never knew such a devoted eunuch,
Who dreamed of romance and physical passion.
A joyful man who lived and loved with abandon.
Who was delighted to get roses or just a little attention
From a lover who I shall not mention.

I read your death notice and though it meant no harm,
I thought it a betrayal of you and of all your wit and charm.
And later at the funeral home, amidst the photos of your children and wife,
There was not one displayed of you and the man who shared your life.

Where was the 20 plus years you so lovingly spent
With a man I assume you thought heaven sent?
Was it all a smokescreen and just a charade,
A costume ball, a masquerade.
And surely most of the mourners knew, of this other life,
Of this love so true,
Yet pretended to be blind and not to see,
And to happily join the hypocrisy.
It’s a casualty of being gay, I guess it happens every day.

Yet I read your death notice, and in truth it made me ill
And gave me an ugly case of the chills.
That in this day and age of rainbow flags and pride,
Of cleaving to one’s lover and hearkening to his side,
That in the end you were a eunuch, and I know not who to blame,
That a 20 plus year love affair still dared not speak its name.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2009
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Saturday, February 20, 2010

I'M NOT LONELY

I’M NOT LONELY

Engine roars, my heart’s kickin’,
I’m not lonely, this love’s stickin’.
Your flesh, a stick to the ribs meal.
(I like the way you feel.)

When I’m under you, you mechanic, me car.
Everything we are is sultry and smooth.
(I like the way we groove.)

And so long have I waited for the key to start my trigger.
(my throttle’s getting bigger,
you’re driving me to blowing time.)

The stars in my eyes dance and shine.
(I think I’m getting manic, an incurable romantic.)

And the hair on you, soft against my palms,
Like upholstery on a sleek foreign job.

So glad you’re here, I’m feeling neat,
With sweaty palms and sweaty feet,
And such a fine good lookin’ soul
Like you in the passenger seat.

Let’s put this bed on speed control and cruise without a care,
And crash into the hapless moon, a classic case of laissez-faire.

Engine roars, my heart’s kickin’,
I’m not lonely, this love’s stickin’.
Feel the combustion, sweet man, pull your body tighter.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2010
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Saturday, February 13, 2010

YOUR OVERWHELMING KINDNESS

YOUR OVERWHELMING KINDNESS

Your smile it lights the tunnels dark
My heart in anguish burrows through.

I see it in the crystal ball,
The words you say, the deeds you do.

Sometimes I’m lost in tunnel vision,
Other times just suffer blindness.
But most times I’m just blown away
By your overwhelming kindness.

On the threshold of the storm that sprays
The rain upon the old front porch.
The thunder roars, the lightning cracks,
Framing my life in its fiery torch.

Sometimes I’m caught in the swiftest downpours,
Sometimes felled by the vengeful sky,
Until your overwhelming kisses
Bring comfort by and by.

Wildflowers bright in fragrant meadows,
Swirling vistas, dreamscapes fair.
The late night walks arm in arm
Down some enchanted thoroughfare.

The roses blooming at Versailles,
The rainbows nestled in your eyes.
The tunes you whistle as you drive,
Reverberate in sweet surprise
Along the paths we’ve traveled.
I stand awestruck before you,
Life’s mysteries unraveled.

Through the deep expanse of time,
Through the long and sleepless nights,
I cling to you my one sure thing,
With an undiminished appetite.

Your smile it lights the compass dark
My heart in vain negotiates.
Your eyes reflecting pools of light
That tame the fickle hand of Fate.

Sometimes I stumble past you,
In a fog of utter blindness.
But the mist soon clears and it reappears,
Your overwhelming kindness.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2008
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Friday, February 5, 2010

WHATEVER WAITS AROUND THE BEND

WHATEVER WAITS AROUND THE BEND
(FOR KYLE, FOR VALENTINE‘S)

Oh my dear, oh how I love you
And how you rip the clouds to shreds,
And how you mend the tattered day,
With your magic healing threads.

How you meet me on the edge,
And coax me down from off the ledge.
How you’ve come and rescued me,
Like a grateful Lazarus from the dead.

In these times of turmoil, in these days that try the soul,
You’re a good stiff drink of moonshine,
A cup of coffee strong and bold.

Oh my dear, how I treasure you,
For you are my grace and hopefulness,
You dam the torrent of my tears,
And cause the flood to crest.
You fill me like a home-cooked meal
And take away my weariness.

Like a distant star on the horizon,
You herald lonely sorrow’s end.
When the sad times come and beat their drum,
You are my best and only friend.

Oh my dear, how I adore you,
My baubles you have to turned to treasure
And you have changed my straw to gold
With mercy deep and dreams to keep,
And laughter in good measure.

In these times of illness, in these times of woe,
You hold me tight in the dark of night
And promise not to let me go.

And you and I will write the chapter
From now until the ever after.
You will be the healing balm that lasts from now until the end,
Whatever lurks in the darkest corner,
Whatever waits around the bend.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2010
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

SERENADE OF TWILIGHT

SERENADE OF TWILIGHT

SERENADE OF TWILIGHT The stars in your eyes, love, I tried them on for size. They shone as bright as diamonds, how they mesmerized. And when...