Caressing on my hand,
soft, warm, leather-like;
thoughts of meadows and brooks
paint a landscape of sensations
on my skin.

Time, a round room with
a blowing breeze,
alone.

Pages turn creating wind,
cooling down a self-hate;

not wanted, not needed,
not here.

"Sorry I'm not in my mind right now,
call back later"

changes

"I'm better,
call all you want!"

I asked if I could tell you that
I loved you.
I asked if you would
hold my hand.
I asked why you
were smiling,
you just keep smiling
back.

I haven't asked if
I can trust you,
why ask a question
you already know?
I told you
that I love you,
what more is there to trust?

Absolute dread,
a moment when I can feel tension,
like a cat in the headlights of my eyes.

Closing in around me,
I can't seem to move or think
its takes over and will not relinquish its hold.

Fighting, almost like loving,
only strengthens its power
to overtake my mind with images of humilation.

Closer and closer still it comes,
What can I do but let it take me?
All it is
is a simple
kiss.

We entered,
not just a simple store
but a warehouse converted to
the worshipping of all things manly-

Homage to the bullet;
Shrine to the Hunter-

Two kids-cowboy boots and all-
push a cart that reads
"Customer in Training"
I stopped and wondered,
amid the countless colors of cowboy hats,
"Men in Training"
is better.

Not being a hunter,
a fisher,
an athelete;
its hard to understand just what it is
that makes a man.

Poetry,
rhyming,
sounds,
everything and nothing said on an empty page.

Love,
laughter,
sorrow,
capture the attention of the reader like a burning book.

One look,
one movement,
one word,
destroys walls and castles quicker then anything else.

Fear,
Hate,
solitude,
keep me within my own castle's walls.

"You always look so proper,"
but I'm only twenty-one.
"You always know the anwser,"
But I'm younger then you all.

"You're so kind and gentle,"
"You're so warm to touch,"
"You're voice is so soft and tender,"
yet I still sleep with just my books.

"You're such a good guy,
to help that grandma with her bags,
to help that kid learn to read,
to do everything you're asked,"
still I sit alone...

Squeezed in between the Bulher Agency
and the Thai Cuisine
is the Sushi Ya-
Friday Night-
out with the guys,
well fellow employees at least.
I had a godzilla-cripsy crunch-
a Happy- my mouth wasnt full of joy-
after a cup of courage-
A.K.A. Lemon Water-
I tried a Crystal Shrimp...
the urge
to go
overcame me.
The bathroom was pure black
with a wanna-be Piasco
paino player painting
hanging above the sink.
The mirror was displaced
along the wall it ran,
in front of the john.
As I sat
I saw and thought "why?".
The iron butler stood there,
arms outreached, a tray of toilet paper,
as if to ask so kindly
"May one be of service sir?"

-Olsen W. Potter-

I said I'd write you notes
in the freezer-
you laughed.

I said it didn’t matter.

I said I would write you poems
everyday-
you smiled then cried.

I said I love you.

I said that I would be there
with you-
you hoped more I.

I said I couldn't make it.

I said I'm having problems
with my mind-
you love me anyway.

I said it hurts.

I said I would always
love you-
you said to keep in touch.

I said a simple "O.K."

Yesterday, the day before, this whole week,
without talking to you.
Today, as well, I wont get to
I'll be coming home somewhat late.

I adore the words
"Samira has entered"
its like the sun just came up,
or my soul just found Christ.

Maybe...I'm wrong,
it could be that I just love you to much.
but I believe that you complete me
you fill that abiss of sadness.

Ah, my love, why were you born?
to love me without end?
Your holy mission, the reason for life,
Could it be you were born for me?

And why do I live for you?
You've pasted your smile on my heart,
Imprinted the words of love on the air
that no one else can hear but us.

To what end will we love?
Until the poets forget their words?
Until presidents and kings realize their wrong?
I want to love you until the soul loses its religion.

Poems, words, thoughts,
help with this distance between us,
Still what I want more,
is to feel your kiss in my life.

Olsen W. Potter

Passion, like a flower
blooms when I think of you.
Not you on the phone, not you online,
but the real you, the flesh that my body desires.

Deep inside my very soul,
lies a beast, a wonder
that thrives on thoughts of you,
I try to feed him as often as I can.

Can you hear him?
Screaming to be let out.
I can barely control him in public
when at home, he runs free, heat and love combined in my mind.

Then you enter...
the beast goes wild.
He sings your love like a song of thousand years that
floats across time and land to touch your tender heart.

You speak,
it tames him.
He only stays quite to listen, harkening to your words
his very life force thrives upon such moments, as when you say
I love you.

Waiting, he sits inside my chest
where no one can see but me
and you, when I release him.
This desire of love that overcomes me.

He doesn't sleep. Rather he projects in my mind
images of you, sleeping, working, loving,
He obesses over the little things,
he wants me to do to you.

He's the poet, not I.
I can not write such words of devotion,
He spends the day debating sounds and words
that can convey this deep emotion.

Oh how he loves you, my sweet
He loves the taste of honey that your spirit gives to him.
He's my soul, my spirit, my heart, my all,
he's your's for the taking, please take!

I long for when I can release him
in touch, in love first kiss.
He begs and cries for that moment
when our lips will meet in god's bliss.

I warn you, He is not tame
a tiger... his teeth sharp with desire
He bites your heart with poems and words
A firm grip he has, he won't let go.

Please take him, accept him as he is!
Nothing else can sooth him, but for your sweeping fingers
caressing his restless love for you.
Please, dont make him wait any longer.
Please, dont make him wait...

Driving today,
a friend saw me
I looked like a rocker
she said
maybe because I need a shave.

Class, well it's ok
I wish I could just get it over with
like some pregant rock heaved upon my back I carry around my work
Crazy, Psyctic, and Mad
are really the only words for it.

My mother is sick
breathing through tubes
that twist and turn until they create a mask that I can't see through
to kiss my mother on the forehead and tell her
she'll be alright.

Negetive is a big word,
sincere maybe?
a little dark perhaps
Its hard to let the sunshine through when your covered by the dark clouds of a storm.

I'm devouring my book
I'm a monster when it comes to reading
my hand like machine turn the pages,
while my eyes,
huge round lasers,
scan the page and swallow all that black print.

Ah, let the books like rivers flow,
into my mouth and brain!

A friend saw me driving today
she said
I looked like a rocker
little did she know,
I was listening to Brazil...

Oh give me back my heart so dear,
and my love that I may hear,
the voice inside that gives me joy
and leads me in my rightful track.

My love for all was once strong,
and now it is but small and gray,
I wish that things hadn't been this way,
but doubt destroys the truest heart.

Oh give me back that heart of mine,
that I may see its life fulfilled.
Thy tongue is soft,
thy journey long,
but give me back this heart of mine.

Olsen W. Potter

Sometimes when I'm walking
I close my eyes
I close my eyes to change my surrondings
to something pleasant.
You, of course, are always there
with your smile.
Usually its in a forest, or at least some trees
I sit on the ground.
I can hear a lake somewhere near
lapping sounds abound.
I hold your hand while I sit
you squeeze it sometimes.
Then I open my eyes and it all goes away,
this wasteland of love
fills my eyes.

Olsen W. Potter

Let it be me;
the one in your dreams;
Let it be me;
your first love,
Let it be me;
that occupies your thoughts,
Let it be me;
the one you want to marry.

Let it be me;
the one who takes away your pain.
Let it be me;
your confidentant,
Let it be me;
the one you always kiss,
Let it be me;
your one great love.

Let it be me;
no one else,
Let it be me;
the one you think about when you sleep,
Let it be me;
when you shower, the one in your imagination,
Let it be me;
your first Man.

Let it be me;
always me,
Let it be me:
your love.

Olsen W. Potter

You were dancing in your yellow dress
red and blue lights reflected in your eyes.
I was wearing black,
such a cliche way to dance.

We started off together
dancing the Tango.
All that was missing
was that rose in your mouth.

I remember then the pace picked up,
you lead the way in the salsa.
The slit in your dress went all the way up,
our audience was memorized.

I wasn't that good of a dancer,
but with you as my partner,
we danced like no other.
They didnt want the night to end.

Little beads of sweat,
like rain drops on a rose,
graced your stunning brow,
I wiped them off for you.

And so we danced, and danced, and danced,
until the lights grew dim.
Then in the shining darkness
I kissed you on the lips.

Olsen W. Potter

I live painting a picture
in my mind of you.
You wear a pink blouse
and tan jeans.

Your hair is jet black
down around your ears it hangs.
It's so real that I almost want to reach out
but its a painting, nothing more.

Your lips are red
like the brightest crayon in the box.
Tempting, begging, puckering
for one simple kiss.

Your body, a painting of perfection
that Leonardo can not out do.
The way your body flows
even standing still.

Your smile holds me spellbound
my paintbrush still in hand,
how could I even try
to paint it like it is?

Whenever I am lonely
your eyes draw my attention;
brown holes of eternity,
swirling love and lust together.

I live painting
a portrait of you
and hope that before I die,
I can show it to you...

Olsen W. Potter

I dreamt of you this night.
oh what a sweet dream it was,
like the sounds of the sea that relax me,
dreaming of you, rejuvenates me.

You were in the road,
we were walking,
then I remember glancing over
my heart stopped of overwhelming beauty.

We walked into a forest
there were tons of red Calla Lillies.
I picked one for you,
you put it behind your ear.

And then I couldn't take it,
I kissed you with the trees watching.
I think they were jealous,
they were screaming in silence.

My hands traveled your body,
they touched your soul, your life.
My tongue took away any doubts,
Your smile, a beautiful happening.

We made love on the grass.
Our bodies became one.
What a divine feeling,
it really was love.

Your eyes shined,
with the light of a women in passion.
Your gentil touch,
caused a tear of contentment.

I woke up sad,
it wasn't fair.
How can I work?
How can I live?
without you.

-Olsen W. Potter-

As I Sit

As I sit here
5 chairs, yet only 1 full.
Little feet with little voices
Whisper giggles as little children do.

As I sit here,
white wind whipping
beyond the scratched steel doors.
Only red noses and watery eyes enter here.

As I sit here,
Older and Younger intermix
in a strange soup of learning
books and bag lunch fill the pot.

As I sit here,
a lady with a file stands,
rush, rush, rushing
across her imperfect fingernail.

As I sit here
my hand itching for relief
my mind sketching down it's thoughts.
There's 5 chairs here...
only 1 is full.

-Olsen W. Potter-

Insanity

The voice in my mind
a censureship on creativity
tells me I am nothing,
I, a bird, sings in my flight.

My family's always asking
leaving doubts of self motivation
Asking what I'm doing
a creek can erode the earth.

"why are you so different?"
voices like a cat screatching in the night
"why are you so monochromic?"
that old cliche saloon fight.

I enjoy who I am.
Sunset painted on a lonely soul
I refuse to change.
Counting grains on an aging beach.

Writing with a faithful pen
chicks hatching out of pre-used eggs
Poem that never get read
swimming in the ocean of words
and dying of
thirst.

-Olsen W. Potter-

I want more

This passion that I have
for all of your words
nothing can kill
its like thrist, hunger, and love.

Your written words
Your spoken words
Your words always leave me
with the feeling of being loved.

I look for them always
I check just to see
If I have a note from you
on phone, I wait to hear your voice.

Am I crazy?
I need to hear you say
speak your words
listen to your voice.

Never want to change
if I'm crazy, I am, thats it.
this way I find
my pearl of great price.

How good it is to love
How good it is to hear
How good it is to speak
How good it is to know

You say I'm crazy
love me then, for the fool I am
Your words make me crazy
I want more, I want more, I want more.

Need I say more?
What else can I say?
I have a passion for your words
please, dont leave me without them.

-Olsen W. Potter-