gravity

a storm is coming and rains haunt
me like typhoons, from gradual
descent to its sudden surge;
i cannot forget your wrath, how
drenched in rage i am… this
unexplainable jealousy seething
from the floods rise to smother
and engulf me, a wave so caustic
you drown me along with the
silences and pull me towards
your deliberate indifference as
though you yourself are gravity

stand in the rain

is it the mention of your name
that summons my thoughts from
distraction? hones me where i
cannot be disturbed and only
my self, my life, in this space
i wish to devote (to you); a love
that fills me, lets me breathe…
(i doubt you inspire) but when you
exit my mind, breath seizes and all
my negotiations fold as silence
itself becomes a deafening sound
within… lost as i am unable to
figure your silhouette; the fear
metastasizes and all shadows, those
i welcomed in the dark, no longer
follow me into the night. i’ve been
braver before the onset of such storms,
but without you near, how senseless
the days or the clouds above my head.
if i cannot draw you in, then how much
longer must i stand in the rain?

as luck would have it

as luck would have it, rain fell
hard on us… no raincoats, no
umbrellas, neither roof nor canopy
to take shelter from: we endured sharp
needle-drops of water upon our heads;
the strength of typhoons against our
crowns… we reigned knee-deep in water,
waded along deepest aisles laid with
floods and floaters, injured trees
with branches sprawled, drowned from
the levee as roses, uprooted from their
beds, sail past us calm in this storm.
while i, frantic, held tightly onto
your arms, trepid now that this wet and
worrisome coronation shall swallow us
before love can baptize us in its waters

-mr gahon 9/11/15

sins

every time the storm washes
over our sins, we are never
clean, nor our past drowned
out from floods seeking to
drench us from the overflow;
nervousness and anxiety
instantly make us untidy
because no rain can purify
this inherent guilt except
tears that atone for them

storm

i dreamed once a benign flood,
curious waters eagerly enter open
windows, seep into cracked doors
and weary foundations; seamless
ceilings ask mercy for pores
widening helplessly against the
force of rain, while Nature’s rest
stands back and watches with
worried sympathy rooftops toppling over;
and the heart of me is devoured
ravenously, each vein siphoned through
meticulously, the eyes observing me
carefully as i’m sucked through the storm

subside

there is no sound quite like the
whisper of first rain against your
body; how each drop strangely
beckons my hands to explore
mysterious intimations dispersed
upon your skin, where the secrets
embedded in each pore entice me to
settle in territories here never
before discovered— beside this
navel is where i want to swallow
wholly this cupped water as it
cascades down your face… here is
where i want to gaze into your eyes,
ensconce myself in your vision; if
i can, for just one moment, linger
just a bit longer and take refuge
under the canopy of your distinct
embrace, i am certain now we shall
culminate a storm and no forecast
can tell when we shall subside

© mr gahon 4/23/15