The American Gentleman

The cursor hovers on the page.

Waiting for it’s moment to dart to the address bar,

it misses your face, and that’s why I avoid the enter key.
I’d rather take the long route to my self inflicted miserable nostalgia.

I won’t open your letters, and I don’t write on paper.

It reminds me too much of you, so I draw instead.

I remember everything you’ve ever said to me,

and I’ve never written any of it down,

“please leave me alone” was a first

and I’m afraid it will be a last.

My name is Brooks King and I am sitting in Logan Airport

I’m not here to talk about who I’ve been or who I want to be. At any point in life there are literally a million different ways that life can go. I can change anything about the present moment while it’s living in my hands. As a writer sometimes I feel inclined to sit back and let the moment slip through my fingers and onto a piece of paper. However, sometimes it gets lost in my brain and wants to stay there for an eternity. Today, right now, at this moment, I can be Brooks King who sits and feels sorry for himself, I could be Brooks King who wants nothing to do with the hand I’ve dealt myself, I could be Brooks King that doesn’t believe in wishes anymore. But I made one last night, quietly, during a blink at 11:11. Today my wish came true when I laid in bed with you for half and hour and it felt like thirty five minutes. That was all I asked for, a little more time with you, maybe I’m losing my mind. Last night when I was over tired and upset I started seeing things, I thought for a second I was insane. Maybe I am. But maybe, just maybe something happened last night. The type of magic that only two broken hearts can conjure up. The type of magic that only comes to life when filled with passionate emotion. The type of magic that grows in a piece of a heart that’s been kept in a pocket for too long. The type of magic that forms from the dust of old habits you’ve tried to put into storage. Maybe you felt it, that time between 7:00 and 7:04 that held it’s breathe. It wasn’t actually any longer. It just felt that way.
Little wishes, that’s the trick. It’s harder for them to backfire. But I wished again, for the first time in a long time. I made a wish, and for the first time ever, it came true.
Please don’t mistake my affection for misdirection.
I know I may have lost my way but that’s why I took your compass once that day.
Could you tell by my inflection that I had every good intention, but when I saw  my own reflection I was filled with apprehension.
I never meant to push you away but that was all I ever did until this very day.
I’m telling you where I stand, I want to be the one that holds your hand, I want to do everything I can to be your only man.
I hope your in the mood to be forgiving, because friend or lover, a life without you is not a life worth living.
You’re irreplaceable, unmistakeable, my desire for you is insatiable.
I will make this right, not today and not tonight, but give me some time and I’ll remind you what it means to be mine.

day2daydream:

Somebody save me, and stifle this silent pain.
Searing through me slowly without stopping,
a secret darkness, a starkly hidden stain.

A perfect reflection in need of cropping,

because I don’t even want to see a single grain

of the things that brought me here today.
I traveled far, from the other, to the main

it hasn’t been pleasant, walking on broken clay.

I’m exhausted, always, and some say insane

but this is just the character I play.
“The world’s a stage”, a friend once said

it’s full of quiet and calm if I recall

and as I lay me down to bed,
I’m baffled, ‘n’ bittered, by the beauty of it all.

Last thoughts of nothingness fill my head,

thoughts that by daylight, are nothing’t all.

So deliver my from conviction, and into the dark,

I’ll make my escape, without the lark.

wanderlust-to-star-dust:

Mornings full of frost,

frigid fingers find warm skin under blankets

of cotton.

Let the cold air entice, excite

entranced hands that yearn to be embraced 

by You, Lover. 

Lingering breath on a neck’s nape

tickles traces of tulips and tiger

lilies,

remnants of last nights perfume.

Words wistfully whispered once dawn awakens

light fire in Lover’s bones,

bewitching beautiful bodies

behind shut eye lids,

fluttering further into a fervid frenzied

faltered

finale.

(Source: wanderlust-from-star-dust)

The train couldn’t wait any longer
like a disgruntled pit bull with attention
deficit disorder it longed to spring
forward chasing nothing at all

I couldn’t help but to wait.
Like an anxious teenager at a
valentines day dance, I stood
hands in pockets, eyes on the ground.

I was as ready as the train
to chase something, a dream,
maybe. But like the put bill
I had no direction in mind.

I inhale station air, industry lingers
In my nostrils. This is not my farm
steel burns here, not oak.
The doors hiss open.

In the one second that I look up
Through a thousand faces in
a small door I see you.
Your Face. For a moment. Blink.

Then like the train it’s gone.
A figment, I figure, as I fumble
through my flannel for my phone.
Where should you be, if not by me?

Hands cover my eyes, you whisper “Suprise..”
We dance, like teens at Valentines.

Reflections in Dust

I sat alone, for a long time in the dark.

Thinking, quietly trying to make sense of it all.

The tendrils of sorrow and memory played with my hair

I could almost feel them, they almost left a mark

the climactic rise was meeting the tragic fall.

I sat in the darkness and smoke, and waited there.

I close my eyes for a moment or so it seems,

as my nightmares mix together with my dreams.

They begin to reveal their tragic themes

and twist my storyline with their schemes.

I try to hold out, quiet and forlorn

you are nowhere to be found

which makes sense, I sent you away.

But come the breaking of the morn

my heart will skip a beat and play

through a headset made of thorns

a different and interesting sound

as I turn my back on this tiny town.

Poesis

Stemming from a Greek word (that I wont try to spell) it means creativity and production. The soul of all creative writing.

I have met my greatest nemesis.

and it lives inside my soul.

a certain type of loneliness

buried deep in a musty hole.

I used to think that only this

could make me change my ways,

and as days go by, though still I try

the loneliness stays the same.

Like a distant co-pilot

who’s voice is infectious

and has eyes of violet

whispering misleading directions

on the highway to hell.

he is the angel of rejection

the one who has fell.

Always by my side,

sometimes

it’s just him, the loneliness, and I.

I Just Can’t

and so I said, “Go on girl, get out of that door”

when she turned her head and cried “Don’t you love me anymore?”

with teeth clenched tight I looked away as if to say,
maybe forever, but I can’t today.

Ribbons of sadness flee from the hearth of her amber irises.

Mascara streams down her cheeks , which is foreign to me,

and unfortunately, I can feel myself start to choke

on the massive lump in my throat.

So I take a deep breathe, heavy and deep.

As sobs crash against my ivory teeth.

We both stand silent, somber, and still.

It takes all I have not to stare at her feet.

She meets my gaze and says “This is it.”

A force a smile, though I know I’ll lose sleep,

smoke more often for days, and live with the pit

in my stomach and chest.

Through my forced smile I say,

“It’s for the best”.

“But you’re gone tommorrow and here today!

and I wouldn’t want you any other way”

Even when sobbing she knows just what to say

“let me back in your arms, it’s the best place to stay.”

“You know I’ll still be here, anytime of the day?

if you ever need me, I’m just a phone call away”

She falls into my arms, and I hold her tight.

All I can hope for, is that she knows,

when your eyes and smile are bright,

when you come to bed wearing my clothes,

the little way that you bite your lip

how you tolerate my big ugly toes

most importantly, how you never lose grip

of at least one good thing, when we’re both low

in spirits, after a hell-of-a-day.

What I’m trying to say, is that I hope you know,

I love you in so many different ways,

but this love has to wait,

because I. just can’t today.