i shall remember forever
that dull rainy morning when
i saw my mother naked

the long swerving curves of her
waist mysteriously familiar;
modern like a steel skyscraper

standing in the dampness of
the garden i struggle to keep my gaze
from sinking into the depths of her shadow

i shall remember forever
the stillness in her eyes;
the stirring stream behind

perhaps the faintest breeze
would have caused her to cover herself
and remain my mother

© 2006 Michael Ernest Sweet

Letter to Leonard Cohen

dear leonard cohen,
how my tired bony fingers ache as
they hammer upon this old typewriter;
metal letters flying in hopes
but to smash against the page
oh leonard, do not make me suffer
just tell me how it feels to
write what others dream,
sing what others imagine,
and to have the world
under your pen

© 2006 Michael Ernest Sweet

Homestead

on a hill somewhere
there is a house
a place where i found my
first wet dream;
where i cut
pictures of women in bras
from the
mail order
catalogues

© 2006 Michael Ernest Sweet

To Whisper Love

to whisper love does not
mean to breathe warm lust
upon your lover's ears

does not mean to barely speak,
the way one might greet you
in the gilded halls of
the ivy clothed buildings

to whisper love is to embrace
a small piece of yourself,
and give it away in the familiar silence
that unfolds the sunrise

© 2006 Michael Ernest Sweet

Birds of War

above blood stained fields
silver wings did fly,
loyal friends clutching
bits of hope from those to die

at home, the sky rains
letters of lovers upon the lands
heroes unsung, these pigeons
upon my aching hands

trenches filling knee-high,
tiny soldiers no longer found
my pigeons at rest today,
beside me, upon the ground

stillness, stillness, stillness,
now, until we die
above blood stained fields,
silver wings did fly

© 2006 Michael Ernest Sweet

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