He awed me with his magic, then showed me
How to teleport that fuzzy yellow ball between the little cups,
How to crush a cup of water dry in a brown paper bag,
How to hop a rubber band between my fingers;
How to do the easy tricks.
I still marveled at how he found my Jack of Spades.
He mesmerized me with his art, then showed me
How to form a basic face from basic shapes,
How to paint flat-bottomed clouds,
How to pose his mannequin that's mine now;
How to be an amateur.
I still gaze at his charcoal stallion on our fridge.
He drew me from bed with his ballads, then showed me
How to curve my fingers on the piano keys, to fit a plum,
How to hold his old guitar that's mine now,
How a D chord was just a ukulele G;
How to play songs my baby sister liked.
I still sit at his feet and watch his fingers skim the strings, amazed.
He captivated me with his passion, then showed me
How to pour out my soul,
How to love to create,
How to infuse my whole being;
How to imitate.
I still wonder at the archetype.
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Random Poetry
PoetrySometimes poetry just bleeds out of me. Funny poetry, serious poetry, poetry that has good meter and complicated stuff, or poetry that's just a jumble of rhyming words. <Note: The first 20 or so are MOSTLY old poems, kinda light and silly and f...
