Cinquain 1

I Am 
Apathetic:
Maybe just pathetic;
Not sure.

heart song

Love is no piece of art:
   No meticulously formed painting
     Nor enchanting love song.

love is the blend of the brush and the paint

the smudging and smearing in the pallete

the red turning black 
and the blue burning orange

splattering the apron

staining the ground

surrealy leaving its presence on everything it touches


love is the keys on the piano 

s    ha   tte   
                 ri    n      g

knots tied into the strings of the orchestra

forming a mass of white and black

 brass and phosphor bronze

A solid mass of wood
      Ivory
           metal

spewing every single note of a beautiful symphony 
simultaneously

resonating within the very essence of your being,

chaos shaking the foundations of what you may call a heart.

please don't forget me

think of me as a song
please don't try to remember me
but whenever i am played
just hum along.

think of me as an umbrella
perpetually useless
but keep me around
because when the clouds are dark
i will help.

think of me as your handwriting
dont try to improve me
but when the words come
just go with the flow.

think of me as a passing thought
a thought that only lasts a second
but brings a smile to your face

if only for an instant.