The Folsom Project

Poetry by Mike Schoonover

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August 8, 2007        Were I a Better Man

Were I a better man,
I know just what I'd do...

I'd hold onto your tiny hand,
and fall in love with you.

Were I a better father,
I know just what I'd do...

I'd never be a bother,
and always there for you.

Were I a better lover,
I know just what I'd do...

I'd let you steal away the cover,
and I'd still sleep with you.

Why can't I be a better man?
It seems the thing to do.

I will do it now as I surely can,
and show my very love for you.

March 7, 2006        Distant Love

Mine eyes have never seen your face,
yet I know its every curve.

My ears have never heard your voice,
but it's wishes I would gladly serve.

My arms have never felt your warmth,
yet I know they'd hold you tight.

My heart has never known your love,
but it yearns for you each night.

Though our hands may never meet,
in this world of walls and doors,

I will hold mine tight together,
and dream that one is yours.

March 5, 2006        Conquest

You were never mine to touch,
and yet I touched you.

You were never mine to hold,
and yet I held you.

You were never mine to love,
and yet I loved you.

Now that I am through with you,
why must you act the way you do?

I was never yours to own,
and yet you cling to me.

I was never yours to miss,
and yet you pine for me.

I was never yours to trust,
and yet you fell for me.

How am I to blame
if you should lose this little game?

March 5, 2006        Mea Culpa

When first I met you,
I knew our love could never be.

I wore my ring of gold,
Which said our love could never be.

I smiled at you,
Knowing that our love could never be.

I talked with you,
Fearing that our love could never be.

I walked with you,
Saddened that our love could never be.

I held your hand,
Crying that our love could never be.

You offered your lips to me,
But our love could never be.

You offered your body to me,
But our love would never be.

Your tears fell like the rain,
But my heart was never free.

Why, my friend,
Did you have to fall in love with me?
 

January 2, 2006        Fix

If...

you cut,
you fear me,
you resent me,
you wish to die,
your world is gray,
you cannot commit,
you are afraid of love,
you find no hope in anything,
you seek love where it cannot be found...

then I can still hold you. I can even love you. But I cannot fix you.

I am sorry.
 

December 12, 2005 Waves

The waves crash onto the shore.
And then they are gone.
New waves arrive.
But never shall be seen the same wave again.

December 1, 2005 One Fear

She lay in the darkness basking in the afterglow, her knees in the air. Her hair spread across the pillow in an unruly, tangled mess. He sat cross-legged at her feet, his legs wrapped around her ankles, her toes tucked beneath his haunches.

His hands slid up her calves, seeking the soft underside of her knees. She quivered and spoke with the softest of voice, "I would give my life for you."

He laughed. "Your life means nothing to me. You surrendered that when the door closed behind us."

"Well then, what is it that you would have?"

Silence. Then, "I want your silly little fears. The ones you are so proud of. Those you use to protect yourself from the one truth inside your heart."

Her heart stopped beating as she looked up to see the whites of his eyes glowing softly in the dark. She had never realized the comfort she found in those fears. They were like old friends, always there, always the same. "What will I have left?"

He blinked in the darkness. "The one truth."

She spoke with the hesitation of a child, "What is the one truth?"

"You already know it, my love. You already know it".
 

November 13, 2005        Got the T-Shirt

I have seen it all.
I have done it all.
Who are you to question?

Hey!

What are you doing?
With your lips, your teeth, your tongue?
What gives you the right?

Okay.

Now I have seen everything.
Now I have done everything.
After all, who are you to question?
 

October 13, 2005        The Ukulele

You would like to put me in a box, tape it tight, and stack me in your closet.

But I am like a ukulele - I do not fit in your box and I cannot be stacked.

So you hide me in your closet up on top behind the winter coats.

Still wrapped in Christmas paper - a gift from an old friend in a place far away.

The paper is torn where you peered inside, wondering the meaning behind this gift.

Each time the seasons change I slide down from my perch as you fetch your winter coat.

Each time you push me back, wishing I would disappear.

One day you are old and gray, and his memory nearly fades away.

One last time I fall upon your head, this time you find a note unread.

It points to paths untread and dreams undreamed.

Loves unloved and lives not lived.

And you tuck me back with loving care, into the space that I demand - the perch that I command.

For I am the ukulele - and you cannot forget my name.

October 11, 2005        Hear me Roar

I can love and hate, destroy and create, block the rivers and empty the lakes, reach for perfection and make mistakes, straddle the Earth and grasp the Moon, touch the stars and quench the Sun...

But only if you hold my hand.

September 17, 2005        This Mess That I've Made

Crashin' into forty
Like a plane wreck in the sky.
All the lonely years
Slippin' right on by.

Four months since she left me
Nothin' but a blur.
Wake up every mornin'
Reachin' out for her.

Crashin' into forty
Like a train wreck in the sky.
What can you do
'Cept hang your head and cry?

Ten years together
Nothin' but charade.
How did it happen
This mess that I've made?

The Folsom Project

Poetry by Mike Schoonover

back to The Folsom Project main page