Love Poetry for Dummies: "Not a DTR"

"Not a DTR"

This is not a DTR;
I wouldn't even call it close.
It just my way saying that
I really like you, I suppose.


I'm not infatuated, though
I often think of you at night;
I wonder if you think of me
As the one who'd hold you tight.


When we are together, I find
That the hours just disappear;
And when we're not together,
I count the hours until you're near.


It's not like I use four-letter words,
Like that "L" one that can be so scary;
But I find that I am falling in "like,"
And I choose not to leave it buried.


So, this is no "Somewhere Out There,"
And it's not "A Whole New World."
It's just one guy and his feelings,
Expressed awkwardly in these words.


If I had the words, like Keats or Browning,
Or in a ballad that I've been humming;
I'd say it in a better way;
Instead, I write poetry for dummies.

Love Poetry for Dummies: "Star Gazers"

Star Gazers

Standing in the light of a blood-red moon,
Then bathed by a meteor shower;
It's way too late to be up on a weeknight,
But who's really minding the hour?

I can't tell one star from the next;
Is that dipper big or little?
I don't know.
But one thing stands apart in my mind:
The  skies above put on a pretty great show.

There are bodies celestial, and bodies terrestrial,
Paul once wrote very elegantly.
But the only celestial body that matters right now
Is the one lying here next to me.

Love Poetry for Dummies: "Rope Burns"

"Rope Burns"

I held on very tightly—
Perhaps a little too tightly—
And it may been what smothered the flame.
Now there are just rope burns
And my tired, bleeding palms
And only myself to blame.

I set you free
And hoped for you return,
But in the end, that wasn't the case.
Instead of a boomerang,
You flew off like a balloon,
For all I know, you've gone into space.

Is this what He meant
When He said that He wanted
To gather his children like chickens—
Safe, secure in His wings?
But you wouldn't have it;
Leaving me with the slim pickings.

You're flying high now,
But what goes up must come down;
And someday you'll come back to Earth.
You may land lightly like a butterfly
Or crash and burn like Icarus
It's all the same to me—
For what it's worth.

Love Poetry for Dummies: "The Fifth-of-July Blues"

"The Fifth-of-July Blues"

The summer is for barbecuing,
And this one's no exception.
Extended friends and family gather,
And all is near perfection.

Soccer game on the lawn out back,
As the boys chase a chicken around;
But the party isn't over yet
As the sun goes down.

The sky lights up brightly
In a wondrous glow;
People in blankets and chairs
Sit back to enjoy the show.

Someone runs out to the circle
And lights up another cone;
Dozens of people surround me,
and yet I am all alone.

I am not a smart man,
But I know this much is true:
The only thing missing from my yesterday
. . . was you.

Love Poetry for Dummies: "A Bona Fide Mystery"

"A Bona Fide Mystery"

It's been said that love is a battlefield;

It can also be a bona fide mystery.

I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but I spend much of my time

Trying to deduce the workings of sister-y.

I'm checking the facts, gathering clues,

Trying to see what it all means.

Scouring the scene, leaving no stone unturned,

But so far, I've not come up with beans.

She hides her true feelings like the color of her hair;

Each new month is a different tint or shade.

And now she's thinking or making it blue,

Or green, pink, purple, or jade.

It's hard for me to know if I'm coming or going;

If the door to her heart is open or closed.

But I'll try to be patient as I am kept waiting -

However long it may take, I suppose.

Love Poetry for Dummies: "Other Fish in the Sea"

"Other Fish in the Sea"

There's other fish in the sea
My brain was quick to remind me,
But that's not what I heard in my heart.
For who else has those gills,
Those scales, peduncles, or fins
And all of those other fish parts?

I'll admit I was hooked
When I took my first look
At the catch of the day in my boat.
Now, no paddle, up the creek,
And my boat's sprung a leak,
And it's sinking down into the moat.

Could it really be
That a fisher like me
Could catch something that good with this bait?
Out of worms; my flies are old.
Fingers pruny, and I'm cold.
And the pond has been frozen of late.

Well, all that I know
Is I must let you go,
And I'm sorry for this getting mushy.
But I'll find a new hobby
And by this time next well I'll be
Probably taking up sushi.

Love Poetry for Dummies: "Backhanded Compliments"

"Backhanded Compliments"

I received your card dated Thursday last week;
They are words that I'll cherish and savor.
And now, in my own humble manner and words,
I'll kindly return you the favor.

I saved every one of your love letters, she said,
But your writing's not clever or sage;
After all, it's a crime to waste paper,
And I needed to line the bird's cage.

Most people find you funny and charming, I guess;
But, of course, "most people" also elected Obama;
For charming's just a prince in a fairy tale,
And who really needs that false kind of drama?

When we met, you were tall, dark, and handsome;
But five minutes later, I came to my senses.
I saw someone short, light, and ugly when I
Put in my contact lenses.

I look forward to each new date spent with you
Like I look forward to paying my taxes;
Did you really think this was all going somewhere?
I'm just holding out until your last credit card maxes.

So, this is just to say, I love you more than my luggage;
It's old and broken, and I need a new set of bags.
On second thought, I like my luggage better than you;
And all of this rhyming is making me gag.