i just want you

i wrote the first version of "I just want you" about two weeks ago. when i brought it to my poetry workshop class, everyone seemed to really like it.  i was going to read it on tuesday 4/20 [incidentally, the poem mentions marijuana and i didnt even think of that when deciding i might read it on four twenty... coincidence hmmm]. but i was also toying with the idea of writing a new poem for tuesday's festivities. a few days ago i wrote a fragment but couldn't make a whole poem out of it. then last night it came to me, and i ended up using "i just want you" and the fragment as a basis for a new poem that isn't just the two combined, but more than that. now i can't decided which poem to read at the reading: "i just want you (I)" or "i just want you (II)"

I Just Want You (I)

Don’t be sad.

The beautiful are always sad.

The ones I love are always beautiful.

But not you.

You’re beautiful, but not sad.

Kiss me under the peach tree.

I want to feel your honey suckle voice

Vibrating in my own throat.

I want to taste your marijuana kiss on

My tongue.

I want to ask you some questions.

Like how do you feel about l i s t e n I n g?

How about l e t t I n g      g o ?

If your brain was on fire,

And you could only grab one memory and run,

Which would you grab?

I love to death this version of you.

The new you I create in my mind

To keep my head from falling off.

The truth of the matter is

We are all poets striving

To make our mark on the art

Of the written word.

But I don’t want notoriety.

I just want you.

I Just Want You  (II)

I found the elixir that I used to save myself from depression

Lost a little weight in my collar bone and breast

But my heart still hangs densely over my rib cage

 I came out of a chamber so dark and secluded

And you were there waiting on the other side

I told you I was in love with your eyes

Or the cool aquatic blue stars that sit where

Your eyes would sit if you had any.

You stare at me quizzically and wonder why

I’m so strange, but even stranger, you are in love

With me too and you tell me so every night.

You are not like other people

You don’t ask me to make up poetry on the spot

Just because you know I like to write.

You respect the art you might not understand,

And understand that I respect you more for that.

Sometimes I start to think you are like everybody else.

But then you go and surprise me by doing me a favor

Or telling me that I’m beautiful

When you kiss me under the peach tree,

I feel your honey suckle voice vibrating in my own throat

Cleansing my bones of all the murky feelings I once let room

In my veins for free.

I begin to dream of your marijuana flavored tongue on mine,

Lowering my inhibitions and letting me drift toward the light.

I ask you how you feel about listening,

About letting go, and if your brain was on fire,

And you could only grab one memory and run,

What would you take?

You answer, “you, of course,” and I laugh.

I love to death this version of you,

The you I see when I close my eyes

Not the old you I created in my mind

Not an ideal mate, but a real live human

Mistakes and all

The truth of the matter is,

We are all poets striving to make our mark

On the art of the human heart

But I don’t want notoriety,

I just want you.