I Can See

I can see us someday bridging the distance

Standing afoot on one soil, holding hands;

You're close enough to me,

I can hear your heart's cadence,

And feel the blood rush through your veins tantivy—

Lost in your beauty, I'd promise to be forever entranced,

As close to you as Votkinsk, unwavering in my fidelity,

Now, let's not cogitate the encumbrances;

Instead, let's imagine how great things can be...

For someone so beautiful,

Did intuition lead you here?

The heart doesn't discern aesthetics;

Eyes, however, can tell I'm far from debonair—

Forgive me...but I'm just one of those cynics,

Who thinks the world can't see past

The surface to see something special.

Yet, this time, there's an ostensible difference,

And I do believe you want to hold hands—

This time can't be a facsimile,

Another steatorrheic instance,

That befouls the confines of Memory—

Are you my destiny? And just how do you define "acquaintance"?

Can we be more than just friends?—

It's one of the many things I can see...

In your ideal man,

You've outlined several desirable traits,

And whether or not I encompass them,

Only time will eventuate—

But with me, know you'll never

Have to administer truth serum,

That when our lives interdigitate,

I won't ever do anything to cause you pain.

I can still see us bridging the distance,

Brightening each other's existence...

Dallying while the stars aloft glimmer,

For past lives' remembrance—

Would you remember?

Or, rather, can you see the story of

Ours limned in future constellations?

Will all these questions we have soon be answered?

Please lend me your ear as I implore your patience.

From across the world, you smote me,

And I may as well stay down, for if I rise,

I'll only fall once more—

The view from alow is grand,

So as long as it's your beauteous face I see;

The trust you've bestowed me is mutual;

I've not reason to believe anything

You say or do isn't veridical,

And even though I don't know you...

...I can see us someday bridging the distance,

Standing afoot on one soil, holding hands;

You're close enough to me,

I can hear your heart's cadence,

And feel the blood rush through your veins tantivy—

Lost in your beauty, I'd promise to be forever entranced,

As close to you as Izhevsk, never remitting in my loyalty,

Now, let's not capitulate to circumstance;

Instead, believe in greatness...that has yet to be.

If I had a crystal ball,

I could tell you what'd come next,

But of all life's intricacies,

Perhaps love is most complex—

I could tell myself if you'd ever love me,

And whether my hubris will lead to another pratfall...

I can see us someday bridging the distance,

Standing afoot on one soil, holding hands...

But until that day,

I pray we maintain this correspondence,

Continually divulging the contents of each other's dossier,

Until all that remains is the alterity

Known only by He of omniscience—

New acquaintance, this will be an amazing ride—

That, also, I can see...

—Kevin B. Waring

Return Flight

Frost contouring the muntin,
Blurring the outside world,
I know more than just autumn’s set in,
As from my chair I begin to uncurl…

I rise up, listless,
Setting my feet upon the floor —
It’s as cold as Cocytus,
But a greater cold I’ve long endured;
The talks yet to prove themselves fructuous,
Of rendezvous’ and candlelit dinners —
All the things I would’ve done with gust,
Because the girl I so perfectly adored —
Reverie broken like a sorceress’ curse,
I continue that which I’d started up for.

Cryptic cold coaxes me into quickening my pace,
To the room whose warmth entreated its touch upon my face;
I retire thereto, hoping for a reprieve,
One of which came only momentarily —
At least till I saw the velvet drapery,
Coil her beauty with a Victorian, timeless grace.

Alighting the window sill,
She made her way closer to me,
Flickering that beautiful smile,
That seemed to moderate the degrees —
It had all the makings of a dead “deferral”,
Whose ghost inhered to some oneiric futurity,
Though, as much as I wanted it to be real,
I knew it was all just a reverie.

The room’s warmth evanescing,
Its entreaty proven spurious,
I yearn for something more genuine,
Less likely to renege on its promise —
Something I believe to comprise her being,
Few others in this life possess,
That has me, in my cold existence, pining,
For the plenary warmth of her kiss.

Teary-eyed, I turn towards the skies,
Now cloaked in its crepuscular guise,
Hoping for a tear in the violet still,
So that I may feel the unparalleled,
Love of God’s eternal will —
Tonight…I want — need…to feel alive.

Around that time, there came a knock upon my door,
At first, barely audible,
But eminently growing stronger,
Like the charging of an incited bull…
Though Night discouraged an answer,
I started thereto, all the while being careful,
For I knew not whom — what, at this hour,
Could be entreating entrance with such gall.

The knocking continued with no cessation,
As I continued forward in that direction —
And the closer I got, the more the knocking intensified —
The heaviness of which belied…
The size of the owl tittuping outside! —
Oh, how I marveled at this revelation!

I was, indeed, enthralled,
By this odd occurrence —
How could something so small,
Cause so great a disturbance? —
How this fearless, freckled,
Foolhardy fowl finagled such finesse,
I wondered whether it could be possible,
And the owl answered…”Yes.”

Though not mistaken in what I’d just heard,
I couldn’t believe the sheer fact he answered;
First, impressive with Antaean feats,
Now with ostensible gift of speech,
His spectacle makes it hard for me to breathe —
What, exactly, is the origin of this bird?

I cogitated the possibilities,
For he’s obviously not of this land;
Does he make his home amongst the Furies,
Or amidst the angels in Heaven? —
Did he form from spume like Aphrodite,
Some beautiful creature of mystic origin? —
Perhaps he’s part of some coterie,
That keeps qui vive till the break of dawn —
If so, bird, where is thy brethren?

Standing there like an ordinary creature,
He gave to me nary answer;
All he did was hop and hoot,
The cool wind massaging his downy thews —
Assuming it was all a ruse,
I started to close my door…when the owl said,
“Don’t go, for I’ve come to take you to her.”

All the while flabbergasted,
I followed him nonetheless,
Unto where the air was frigid,
Yet scented with a familiar fragrance —
I could feel myself growing pallid,
For I knew what lay ahead in the distance:
That which some men call kismet,
Mine is the girl…through whom beauty has its genesis.

That fragrance proved itself a Rosetta stone,
And I knew I was more than halfway home,
As I slashed through the night undaunted,
With the gust of a spirit just freed from bondage,
Running with neither care nor regret,
To a place long frequented —
In dreams — I can finally claim as my own…

My gracious guide stopped to address me,
Perching himself upon my shoulder —
“There stands the quintessence of sublimity,
As beautiful now as ever before;
Her bona fides are a fait accompli,
And everything she does, she does con amore —
No longer is it a pipe dream;
Yours to hold is one of the world’s greatest wonders.”

Thereafter speaking that oracle,
He rose up, encircled me deasil,
And, in bidding me farewell, faded into the firmament,
Leaving me more than content,
In the arms of she who is, too, Heaven-sent;
Whose life is incandescent and love is eternal.

- Kevin B. Waring

Ennead

Surrounded by these images,

Encased in frames of gilt,

Doggedly I cling to the vestige,

Of a feeling I know was real

—

And I know you must wonder... h

ow

one can manage,

To tightly clasp the feeling of one he's yet to hold;

But if you know yourself like I hope to

—this, my

everyday wish

—

You would see the beauty... that's captivated my soul.

Like the diving-petrel,

Whose feet gently skims the water's surface,

It seems I

, too,

was under an inenarrable spell,

That, from you, kept me at a dram of a distance;

Truly the situation was quite tristful

—

However, we're all casualties of circumstance;

All we

—I can do... is remain hopeful,

Of missed opportunities' recrudescence.

Now, seemingly, one has arisen,

For we're talking once more;

Yet needed is more concrete reasoning,

En lieu of the logic that's misled me before

—

Last time I made the grave miscalculation,

That landed soaring hopes just short of the sepulchre

—

But welled up, again, has the emotion...

I believed to be driven to "Night's Plutonian Shore".

Worlds apart, still,

Upon barren ground I traipse,

At night I clasp my hands and kneel,

Praying your love would, someday, my world, saturate

—

You're so very beautiful,

My lips quiver, the hair on my body

—even

vibrissae,

Stand erect like porcupine quills,

And I'm relegated to putty in your wake

—

While the effect you've had on me is mystical,

My words, however, have failed to captivate...

All throughout history, words have...

Led to the rise and fall of regimes;

A "momentous decree" freed the slaves,

While another sent the Berlin Wall tumbling;

Those of Churchill portrayed him as incisive,

Even as bombs sent ripples

throughout t

he Thames

—

But mine have proven themselves ineffective,

For I continue to

struggle

with the crucible of my time.

However, it's not so much the words said,
As it is the person that says them

—

Mine could garner top prize in an eisteddfod

—

Pero quiero ganar tu corazón,

and all

the love that flows therefrom;

They say that... a man is considered stolid,

If he repeats an action, each time expecting a different outcome;

For me, disappointment has come to be expected

—

I can't reach you through any other medium...

I wonder whether I've given all I've got

—

At times, even, I question my own faith,

Until I recall, armed with only a slingshot,

How David slayed the mighty Goliath

—

We've been endued with incredible power

To move mountains and reach summits,

For the Spirit lives in our every breath;

In light thereof, I realize I can run the gamut,

From mountaintop... to oceanic depths.

Take it back to the start...

With the girl I hope to better know,

As we stroll through tawny park,

Whilst fallen leaves scatter to and fro;

Share with me secrets as doth the wind imparts,

As it snakes through bare-naked boughs

—

I want us to establish, first, a good rapport...

Y tal vez alg

ú

n día... yo pueda ser tu novio.

As time passes relentlessly...
Carrying forth, even, the idle,
Still the fire burns within me,
Teeming with ire healthful

—

And I know... it remains a mystery,

How one clasps the feeling of she he's yet to hold;

But if you know yourself like I hope

—pray... to daily,

You'd realize the beauty... that's captivated my soul.

- Kevin B. Waring