[ .the.hush,of.pulse.&.ponder. ]

[ .the.hush,of.pulse.&.ponder. ]

each foot presses more love into the ground.
as love imprints the earth, my love imprints in you.

I wonder when the words will come, when we sigh, when we pause and push the ground with our feet, digging the dirt, when wide lips of these, my lips, will find your lips, will they be warm, pressing to my lips, those words might falter,
crushed under the weight of when wide lips meet.

each eye passes, moving over to make way.
as over and over, my love imprints in you.


© Bryan McLean May 1, 2010
037/100:2

[ .setting,circles. ]

[ .setting,circles. ]

one night, I will be able to look at the stars and know I am looking back towards home.. but this night the stars are cold and distant, sleeping in the melancholy
and maudlin of the dark and dreaded galaxies


© Bryan McLean April 30, 2010
036/100:2

[ .fuck(for)fridays. ]

[ .fuck(for)fridays. ]

pretty sure, right now, you're not reading this, not hearing this, its only some donated time, when your hurt is down, so we should fuck for fridays, {tgifuck} find any girl, find any boy, find anybody, find your way to the cherry sweet center-folds, charity only starts at home, on the kitchen table, all over the floors, the sheets still say, orgies only start at home, so fuck for fridays, face baring in our laps, stay steady on me, faces lapping at your lolling loving pout, that skips the beating in our chests, the close close heat of breath, pushing at your skin, fuck for fridays, its the weekend way out, as the obligations are left at the door, tumbled coats to the floor, eloquent knees so sore, fuck for fridays.


© Bryan McLean April 29, 2010
035/100:2

[ .a.leading.role.in.numbers. ]

[ .a.leading.role.in.numbers. ]

so nervous in my nature, feet rubbing, heart pounding.. eyes looking anywhere but to your eyes, wanting to inquire, wanting to express, so uncertain what to say when words reach out, yet somewhere inside the deep universe, is that horrible me, I've swallowed, the hungry, needy me, that's travelled so far, with nothing to say.. all playing out in my head, loud like cinema, a nine yr old trying to learn Russian on his own; at twentyone in love and broke; a three yr old terrified from riding down a hill; a grade seven science project gone wrong; a sixteen year old fumbling to play guitar; a smurf bag walking to my dad’s car from kindergarden; at thirty one in love and broke; ya, always in love and broken; the fiction that our selves are made up of.


© Bryan McLean April 28, 2010
034/100:2

[ .coniferous.whispers. ]

[ .coniferous.whispers. ]

as the words imprint the regrets
that strengthen our failing resolve
in the wake of all the whispers
I keep wishing I had shared with you


© Bryan McLean April 27, 2010
033/100:2

[ let go of ² .. ]

[ let go of ² .. ]

the morning coffee, sky highway mountains, dusty gum wrappers, thinning hair, those sun soaked runners, running rivers, ticks at midnight, her perfume scented pillows, those muffintops, burnt out joints, your handheld apps, storm soaked office towers, shameful socks and grubby jeans, your screeching afternnoon napping alarm clocks, cold legs, bacon washed by oj, split milk in the fridge, broken eggs, the loves and lost lovers in life, wet fingertips, lifeless radio, sucked cigarette butts, happy moments about a quantum state recalled, a concerto, string sounds, hum of transit trains and traffic, steamy shower mirrors, chin scratched scars, sunlit catfur, sad moments of regret in the dark, seran wrapped meat, stale bread, jackhammered pavement, sweaty bottles, your trundling daily commute home, fastfood parking lots,
broken bottles, lines of bodies at the store,
skipping stones, gasmasks, tumbling laundry, the self.


© Bryan McLean April 26, 2010
032/100:2

More Book Shelf Moments...

More Book Shelf Moments...

Poetry : Japanese Verses, Collection 54-60 - Leonard Cohen, The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry, Blake, Notes from the Underground - Dostoyevsky, Art of War - Tzu, Three Hundred Poems of the T'ang Dynasty, The Divine Comedy - Dante, The Canterbury Tales - Chaucer, Screwtape Letters - Lewis, The fall of the House of Usher - Poe, Gift of the Hawk, The Captain Verses - Neruda, Collected Poems - Dylan Thomas, Selected - e.e. cummings, wilderness & american night - Morrison, Coke Machine Glow - Downie, collection - Kerouac.

[ .leaving... ]

[ .leaving... ]

if you don't go
I won't have to miss you

if you don't stay
I won't have anyone
to hold my paw when its bedtime


© Bryan McLean April 25, 2010
031/100:2