In love with an idea

The waves crash around me
Seething, foaming
Walls of water.
Salt stings my eyes
The sea roars in my ears
My muscles throb in silent protest
At every stroke.
Then through the deepening mist
I see a beacon
land is near
No water can defeat me.

I walk through a desert.
the sun beats down relentlessly
No cloud to cool its heat.
My throat is swollen
I cannot speak.
My feel are blistered
I cannot walk
So I crawl.
Then from the top of a dune
I see the oasis
It is real, not a mirage.
Victory is still mine.

I stand on the top of a building
the wind blows against me.
It wants to throw me down,
this impediment in its path.
It tears at my clothes
It screams in my ears.
But I still stand.
In this silent battle
Far above the rest of the world.
Far beyond any of its cares,
I am the victor.

I see a man
his eyes are blue
not the blue of a calm sea
but the blue of a sea,
that he has calmed.
The sun shines on his hair
it glows in answer.
Gleaming strands
spun of light.
The wind blows agains his body
it serves to outline his shape.
The almost arrogant ease
in the way he stands.

I catch my breath.
I step forward, then kneel.
I kneel and adore
that which I can never defeat.

Dance

I spin
spin out of control
I don't need
to leave the ground
to fly.
Shimmering droplets of sweat
fall to the floor like teardrops
weeping for joy
the very joy of motion.

I stretch, I lunge,
I twist, I bend.
Pain, in its very essence
shoots up muscles like needles
yet all I feel is a driving greed
Don't stop.
Never stop.

Pain and pleasure melt into one
fused together,
I can no longer tell the difference.
Is this ecstasy?
I knew of nothing better.
Is this torture?
I knew of nothing worse.
I simply know this.
Don't stop.
Never stop.

By a die hard romantic

I wrote this for a friend who had just broken up with her boyfriend. I intended to write a funny poem, to make her laugh, but this just wrote itself. At the time I thought it very romantic. They got back together again, I was left to laugh at my mush. But I still like this poem... The poem I never intended to write, which wrote itself under a desk during a boring english class, with my friend sobbing next to me.

To keep a dam from breaking,
A great wall was built.
To save my heart from breaking,
Such a wall I too must build.
So it was fated, so it must be.
Tell me my girl, don't you agree?

The wall stands between us,
Its foundations dig deep.
But through its battlements,
some tears must seep.
Cry then, perhaps weeping, you may bring,
some new purpose whence hopes may spring.

Of all sad words
of tongue and pen,
The saddest are these-
It might have been.
But then I ask, was it wise?
for a love that fades and then dies...

Perhaps we were never meant to be,
Perhaps we are better so.
Perhaps eventually we'll forget.
Perhaps, perhaps perhaps... but I don't know.

But my girl your friends are here.
To hold your hand, to wipe a tear.
Life, work, love, its all so great,
I'm over my girl, don't wait.