the poetry knook :: the poetry of stephen m. james :: indianapolis, indiana » email

Etched in Ice

Stephen M. James — Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

The fire from a furnace cools me more than your fingertip.
Etched in ice, I’d prefer your radiance to the sun’s rays.
Who told you the route to inside of me?
How did you meander through the maze I sometimes become lost in myself?
Unlocking doors rusting for months
You come wonderfully slashing with machetes the vines crowding my heart’s entrance.
Enchanting me with your fragrance, charming me more than Thanksgiving dinner with broccoli casserole and whipped mashed potatoes only my mom and sister can make.
Willing to wait for hours for your email or any sweet and beautiful reminder of you.

The Face Behind the Font

Stephen M. James — Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

I hear your words,
I hear you speak as I read them.
I can’t see your face,
But I know you are there.
We talk in endless conversation,
Like two old friends, which by now we have become.
You tell me of people unknown, and
I the same tell you.
on and on in the dark we chat,
Not with our mouths, but with our hands.
the only audible noise is that of a finger on a key.
Not a face to be seen,
But a box on which your words appear.
I can see and hear you say them in my mind,
Knowing a few short days ago we talked face to face.
I heard your words and you heard mine,
I could see your smile and acknowledgement,
And i know in a few short days,
I’ll be able to see the face behind the font again.

Long Distance Friend

Stephen M. James — Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

Every few months, I miss you the day after.
I miss your thoughts, face, your indelible laughter.
An email now and then, then we forget, lose touch?
I crave you here beside me so much.
You are my confidence the world will improve
And will excel in whatever you choose. Lives you will move
Because you know who holds the world in the palm of His hand.
I say, “See you soon,” and hug not shake hands.
We are forced to live over distances wide.
I wish I never had to leave your side:
You are friend, one hard to find.
One’s future is destined surrounded by such minds.
Your are so much like me, so alike, almost akin.
I love you, my friend.