This is the third page of poetry by Brian Mahoney
If you see her
(March 23, 2000)
So she walked out of my life. She didn't know the affect it would have
on me.
We weren't really anything to each other.
She started out being a stereotype but moved into being
a well.
Not a straight modern smooth sided well
but an old dug well,
with sides of stone, layered and rough.
A bottomless pit full of mystery and suspense and surprise.
Her voice, soft and delicate till the laugh
which was deep and throaty and strong.
Her eyes, soft and delicate till the fire started
inside and burned through whoever started the raging inferno.
Her skin, looking soft and delicate but so far from being touched
by anyone not very close to her heart ...
not by me certainly.
Then there were the similarities.
The music.
The history.
The geography.
It all kind of makes me wonder about getting close to someone
again. I mean
neighbors move but keep in touch usually.
Lover leave but don't ...
keep in touch that is.
But they linger.
She left and who knows what
will ever come of this nothingness we had
or didn't have.
Right now I only see her in my dreams
and whenever I see a blonde head far across the store
my heart races and I bob up and down to see if it's her.
So if you see her ... tell her I miss the part of myself that she became.
If you see her, ask her if she remembers my name.
Naked Girls
Bet that got you.
Thoughts of what it could be about
knowing that it's just words
but still curious anyway
in short ... a grabber
a hook
a line that keeps your interest.
there are lots of them, naked girls that is ...
all kinds
young old, wishing the same things naked guys wish for
but they do it differently
on our terms
wonder what it would be like if they did it on their terms
instead of ours
Kind of like a Benz compared to a Chev.
But their terms are not really their terms.
The lines are obscure
since they've never been able to do anything on their terms.
Eve got shit right from the start, damn apple
damn snake
could have been a trouser snake but no one wore trousers back
then.
Been blamed for years
so I think about what it would be like if things were on their
terms
when it comes to naked girls and stuff
it would be dark and cool
warm loose clothing
but no clothing
and light and warm
it would be soft and quiet
with warm touches and moist kisses
but hard and loud
with light slaps and slippery sharing of liquids
it would be gentle and lingering
with pauses and talk
but rough and fast
with nothing but ...
you get the picture
it would be just as they are
wonderful and eerily familiar yet
not really us
just them
to know them is to certainly love them
and worship them
and ache for the right ones
and admire the others
summer brought this on
summer with halters
summer with shorts
and summer now with the memories of summer then
summer now is could do but won't
summer then was wish to but couldn't
Explain it to me, tell me in your words. Tell me
your visions and your desires. Of course they aren't like mine
but tell me anyway.
I'd like to glide down your back like
a roller coaster on its way to a crash
the shrieking crash that means something has met it's end
and it's not you
it's not me
it's just something that summer brought.
I wanted to tell
I wanted to tell you that I wrote tonight
I sat and wrote about things I considered important
listening to Winamp
and CSN and Young
I wanted to tell you that I missed you
that your mystical smile
and your waifish look
and eyes that held so much
were too far away for too long
then I thought that I shouldn't tell you this
that you would think all kinds of scary shit
and run and go hide
but it's not like that
it's not like that at all
the moon and the music and the thoughts are not of you
they are of everyone like you
and you
and them
and everyone
and sometimes you
but not always
and not always you
but sometimes
and you
and you and you
(see, that's how it happens
it starts out as a letter
then ends up as a poem
no wonder we never talk
the talk doesn't compare to the written words
two minds of jelly
two strains of thought
linked by words on ethereal paper
and two personalities linked by nothing ... right now I miss
you
like I miss a warm friend, a cool breeze and much of what you
are when I stand
close to you. God am I going to hate myself in the a.m...)
Voyeur
?I guess I have been a voyeur since Wendy used to flash her butt
at me when we were both five
she used to let me do more but then I let her do lots of stuff too
Interesting
she became slender and beautiful
and I became me
full of what we shared
full of things she might love to know about
full of things
Later it seemed that everywhere I lived in Toronto
there was window nearby from which I could catch a glimpse of some glory
some flesh
some naughty bits that were exposed for a minute
the incredibly beautiful blonde’s gigantic breasts
flopped out and then snuggled into a bra
in front of an open window as if she lived in the country somewhere
then two windows down and across the courtyard
the brunette with the fantastic figure who vacuumed
nude at two in the morning
and the Chinese girl three floors up who never did anything
but always looked like she was about to
then younger girls, late teens on Marlee Avenue
dancing and prancing and discovering
always something new
always something exciting
lucky me, huh?
Wasting hours with binoculars and a hard dick.
Another Mystery
I probably have you all wrong
probably think of you as something else or
someone else besides what you are
but right now I think of you
think of you
just as I usually do before I go to sleep
Don’t worry though
I will never touch you
not that I haven’t thought of it
like putting my arm around you
my hand in yours
my shoulder under your head
although that last one would be hard to manage on the qt.
But then again, I don’t touch with my hands anyway
I don’t run roughshod over bodies here and there
like the ‘guys’.
I touch with my mind and my eyes first. This doesn’t fit but I
had to put it in.
Not that I mind if you touch me,
not that I think I show you how much I love it when you do.
Not that I mind you
when you do anything
Not that I mind but mind
I mind when you don't.
So all of this was a getting to know how I should write about you
when I should and what I should
I know I should never but I think I always will
but always is a long time
and for once I am not afraid of that
It’s taken this long to get close to you
I hope it takes forever to get tired of you
forever and a day
that’s all I need.
Misc. on Your Birthday
not real easy put it into words.
feeling silly to have let the cover on my heart get loose
so you could creep in
poking in all those little places
that I thought I had protected
behold the quivering mass of nerves
prone to head jerks
aortal spasms
and acid attacks
writing like this at least puts it into some kind of order
leaving it unkempt and unsaid wasn’t doing me or you any good
although you will never read this
the feelings are fun in only one way
that is that I never thought I could or would feel this way again
I guess the silliness of affairs of the heart never ends.
This begs the question:
was I looking?
did I need this somehow?
Was it fate/karma/who knows?
This isn’t much of an effort.
Six days without your sunshine is too much
time to think of everything you are
of everything I’m not
of how great it could be
and how it can’t be
and the ache starts again.
What I do
Just in case you ever wondered
suppose you haven't but here it is anyway
what I do when you're not there
or here
or anywhere near me
I pout
get frustrated easily
sleep less
move slowly
smile hardly at all
well, only at memories of you
and your words and our laughter
and my time slips away like it is molasses
wasted
and pointless until my next moment shared with you
like today
breathlessly waiting
having planned my lunch hour so that I could head back
just at the right time
maximizing the time together this afternoon
So, just in case you wondered
that's it
and maybe, if we ever get to be like comfortable
with spending off time together
we could walk and talk and walk and talk
until that time was used up
then you'd head back home or to your friend and
I would just start missing you again
not to fear the missing, not really
I think of you constantly,
carefully
and cooly
like you were a gift
the kind you never expect and never want to open and never want
to lose
Seeing Double
I should buy you a new suit
with your dark skin
a white bikini would be nice
perhaps one size too small
to show off your tones and folds
your flat tummy
and your perfect
rounded
behind
resting beautifully on top of your long
dark wonderful legs
in the pool I would stare as you lie on the floatie
on your back
with your hand over your eyes
a soft smooth armpit showing
thrilling in its softness
and then the slight seam
a pucker
on the front
softened by your new hair
but visible all the same
the first place I would kiss
should you decide to remove the suit
and
skinny dip.
just a thought
i had so much to tell you
this morning
as i lay in bed
erect and sleepy
all at once
I want to tell you something
I want to tell you something
something about how you looked
in Kingston
by the coffee shop
in the mist of a mid-morning break
braless
awake
stunning
with your nipples leading your way
through the glass door.
you checked out your reflection
before you stepped up on the curb
so I thought it was ok to check you out too
your eyes, when they met mine,
told me it was ok too
a wisp of a smile
a trace of delight
Imagined?
after half a century of watching
staring
catching eyes and nipples
I think the delight is more what I'm after
than the actual physical details.
loving and letting go
(February 26, 2004)
I've spent my life loving women
then letting them go
letting them go on to other men
other lovers
other times with other people
letting them go with smiles
and frowns and sadness and joy
or just letting them go
I've spent my life loving women
loving their voices, their scents, their smiles and their minds
lusting after bodies but loving their minds
loving and letting go
sometimes with a kiss
sometimes with a handshake
always with regret
sometimes my hand held on for dear life
like a frightened man hanging from a branch over a whirlpool
loving women and letting go
until the next women and the next loving
and the next letting go.
ten things i like about you
your voice
is soft and smooth
kind and gentle
it's more about you than anything
except your eyes
they laugh and sparkle
most of the time
and go with
your smile
perfect teeth
perfect lips
full and probably soft
but they swear
and I like that too
when you sing the rodeo song
and say fucking
those are some things
but I like
what you do, too
I like the way you looked at me once
on the swing
just before you put my mp3 player
down your shirt
as if, yeah he would think it's ok
and then pop
it was down between your breasts
still playing music
while you jumped off the swing
I like the way you sat right beside me
while I set up your computer
in your room
on your bed
right beside me
your arm touching mine
soft innocent but very cool
shall I say
I like the way
you look in
school shorts
the ones that day in the pool
with the top I never saw
but I wouldn't have seen it anyway
since I could not stop looking at your shorts
I wanted to straighten the seam at the back
I wanted to look at the front more than I did
but lost my nerve
I want to see you
again in them
more than anything else I want to do
this summer
that's seven
I like the way you don't seem
to think I am totally wacko
or if you do
you don't show it
I like the way you had the nerve to
walk across the stage
at Dame
dressed in less than anyone else that day
confident and strong
but quickly
as if you had second thoughts
I like the way you have time for jackie
time for her and her thoughts and movies
and the kinda silly stuff she does
but with you it doesn't seem at all silly
and
it's really not at all
it's just jackie
I like your nod when you are making a point
you have this look
this set
just so look with your mouth and
your eyes
and a small smile too
you don't even know you do it
but you do
that's ten
there's more
I like your clothes
the red set you wore
when you investigated the attic
the wide legged shorts you don't wear any more
your red T-shirt the way you wore it that Sunday
your hands so strong and rough but full of warmth
and your foot when I gave it a rub one day
trying to remove the scar that I caused
can I rub again sometime
probably not
but I'd like to
(there is no end to this
it's the longest I've written
almost ever
in lines like this
at times like this
I guess I got lost
in you)
July 1st/2004
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