The Flower
By Wil C. Fry
April 4, 2006, 1:15 p.m.
(To Marline)
At first, just a seed, some pollen,
a posted message on a blog
Surrounded by fertile soil, fallow ground,
our lonely lives
Watered by the rain, the mist, and dew,
good first impressions and well-written emails
Warmed and given life by the burning sun,
a pleasant phone call
With tender care, the bud begins to bloom,
we meet in person
And love's petals begin to show
A multi-colored delight
A scent so pleasing
Like music playing
But, like a flower, love cannot
be fulfilled in the garden
A strong hand plucks the beautiful object from its home,
puts a ring on her finger
The stem in a vase.
But, unlike the fate of the flower,
This love will not wilt on the dining room table
For its roots are still in our hearts
Nourished through the ages
As seasons change
The petals may fade
But if we tend it daily
It will always bloom again.
(Back to the top)
Each Day
By Wil C. Fry
April 4, 2006, 1 p.m.
(To Marline)
In each life, every day
Is filled with worries and fears
Always been that way
Through so many lonely years
Now, though, when I wake
My first thoughts are of you, Marline
Each breath and step I take
It's like you're there, right beside me
(Back to the top)
You Are...
By Wil C. Fry
Tuesday, Jan. 24, 2006; 4:02 a.m.
(To Marline)
every word i've ever read
every dream i thought was dead
all the things i never did
the contents under Pandora's lid
the ship arriving in harbor safe
the secret oasis place
light as a feather
soft as a rose
floating in my memory
too far away
too sad today
my eternal sunshine
my anchor to reality
the reason i wake
the reason i sleep
never fake
my soul, my strength
my inspiration
more beautiful than any sunset
My One True Love
Marline
(Back to the top)
I Want To (revisited)
By Wil C. Fry
Sunday, Aug. 14, 2005, 05:12 hours
(a remake of "I Want To")
I want to hold you as you cry and release the burdens you've carried
And then lift your chin so I can see your earth-moving eyes
Those orbs that portray every meaning I've ever wanted to know
I want to lightly touch your face and tell you that you are safe
You are loved
You are mine
I want to
I want to move with you to the rhythm of every song that's ever been played
And lift you over the storms that shake the souls of mankind
And then tear down every wall that's protected my heart
I want to lay bare the wounds
I want to reach inside myself and find only you
As the rain drizzles down around us
Washing us deeply clean
To see your genuine smile will cleanse my soul
And whatever it takes to draw that from your
Exquisite face, then that's what I want to do
I want to prove to you that no barrier
Of distance, of Time, of Age, or Culture
Can seperate the hearts that are truly bound together
I want to end my search
I want my Destination
To be you
Can you think of anything else
That WE want to do?
(Back to the top)
I Dreamed
By Wil C. Fry
January 24, 2006 (1 a.m.)
I dreamed you were a stranger
That you didn't know my face
You didn't blink an eye
When driving past my place
I dreamed you didn't know me
That "together" had been erased
You lived your life alone
All memories were replaced
I dreamed you'd never been here
That my thoughts of you were lies
You had never touched me
With sweet and young surprise
I dreamed that we were dying
Alone and insecure
Never having known the love
That helps us to endure
I dreamed you were sad, girl
That tears framed your eyes
You had no one to wipe them
No one to hear your cries
I awoke in sweat-stained sheets
Shaking from my fear
That my dream had been real
That you'd never been right here
In ecstatic resolution
I realized what was true
That it was just a dream
That I still do love you
(Back to the top)
Missing Her
By Wil C. Fry
Dec. 12, 2005; 17:30 hours
(Written at Pink Laundry, in Seminole, Okla.)
So far away, her voice in my ear
Tendrils of love from both sides
Try to connect in the wires
In the air
Can't quite smell her, can't quite feel her
If memory is any guide,
It'll be one heck of a reunion
So warm, so tender
All done up like a doll
Waiting is not a game
It is torture
Knowing we cannot meet up for a midnight snack or
Stare longingly across the dinner table
Words are no comfort, words are not a balm
Nothing short of her touch can heal me or
Enhance my calm
I cannot reach out, pull her to me
In her times of sorrow or deepest need
A thousand miles would be closer
A hundred miles, and I could see her
Soon, though... A hundred yards, fifty feet
Twenty feet, two feet, five inches
HER.
(Back to the top)
...For Marline
By Wil C. Fry
Dec. 12, 2005; 1753 hours
(written at Pink Laundry, in Seminole, Okla.)
Smooth lake at nowhere
No sound in the air
Stillness, no clouds
Empty paved super road
Even the birds are still
WAITING...
Then, a chirp. But just barely.
A rumble... dust settles
Tremors shake this land, this man
NEARING...
Suddenly — without warning!
Rainbow volcanoes explode from everywhere
Trumpeting orchestras erupt into blazing music
Everything moves, rushes, falls into place
ARRIVAL...
(Back to the top)
SHE
By Wil C. Fry
Oct. 26, 2005; 2027 hours
It's a dream
A fantasy
A whither-world that whips my imagination
Back-lit beauty
Dulling elves and fairies
She walks
Her steps are flower blossoms
She talks
Her voice a symphony
Rose in full blossom
Seems droopy, wilted
As She glides
Even Sol
Cannot compete
Drowned into dimness
Woman
Unadorned with unnecessities
She is bare
Yet complete
Eyes like shiny polished coal
Melt, shred, pulverize my soul
Stormy clouds fade
And lightning divides
Oceans gleam dimly
Next to Her
Even God takes sides
A blessing
To kill every curse
A prayer
To wake the dead
She walks
Her steps are feather light
She talks
Her voice a love song
Never has man beheld
Such beauty
Every queen must bow
Lions purr
Predators cowed by the sight
No pedestal is necessary
No throne needs She
Encompassing all
No more questions
She is the answer
She stands
And the world bows its head
She is silent
And there is nothing left to say
(Back to the top)
WHISPERED PRAYER
By Wil C. Fry
October 11, 2005; 5 p.m.
A whisper of a prayer
Rides on the wind tonight
Nighttime clouds of gray
Shrouding sweet moonlight
You can do more than I can do
And see more than I can see
Keep her safe and sound, Lord
And watch over her for me
As chilled breath escapes my lips
And a shiver runs down my spine
My thoughts turn to the woman
Who proudly says she's mine
Lord, give me strength
And patience, and insight
Add in a little wisdom
Because I want to do this right
The silver moon now hides
Behind a filmy veil
Like a galactic winking eye
In a dreamy, starlit trail
The whispered prayer was short
What else could I say?
"Amen," I whispered,
Started the engine, drove away.
(Back to the top)
Oh, Diane
Wil C. Fry
June 18, 1990 (age 17)
The freshness of the spring
the dew on the grass
Please smile for me
it’s all I can ask
The sun beams give you warmth
You give that warmth to me
Let’s frolic here together
beneath the green, shady tree
The thick, plush green grass
the clouds in the sky
It just might rain,
But, please, don’t cry
The rain, it may be too cold
But together, we’ll stay dry
As I cover you from the rain
Let’s not say good-bye
The hard, cold rocks,
they try to break your skin
But hold tight my hand,
I know we can win
The ground, it may be too hard
But I will break your fall
If you land on me
I really won’t care at all
(Back to the top)
Take the Plunge
By Wil C. Fry
June 20, 1992 (age 19)
Those blue eyes are pools
Translucent and deep
Hiding a young heart
What promises keep?
Windows they may be
Down into her soul
And ev’ry entrance
Seems to take its toll
The world, it wonders
My heart, now it shakes
Ready to dive in
Those rivers and lakes
Go on, take the plunge
Taste the fruit divine
Tho’ I don’t believe
She could e’er be mine
(Back to the top)
Out Here
By Wil C. Fry
July 26, 1999 (age 26)
Out here
breathing the air that is ages old
But still clean
And the waters trickle gently on,
out to the sea
From where they will return to wet this land
Out here
I feel the love of the soil for the sky
The rain and the sun
And the creatures of Earth still roam free
without a care
Without fear or complication or confusion
Out here
breathing the scent that rises from your mouth
Your hair, your skin
And your fingers are touching me
your words I hear
Bringing tears of joy to a sad and lonely soul
Out here
I cannot think or breathe or sleep
Without you near
Your presence in my life — even a glimpse from afar
tickles my fancy
And I know that I have — FINALLY — won the Prize.
(Back to the top of this page)
My Love
By Wil C. Fry
July 26, 1999 (age 26)
i sit
and listen
and breathe
and lean
into you
i smile
and twinkle
my eyes
and watch
lovely you
you sigh
and echo
my love
and lean
into me
our hands
are touching
and warm
and close
between us
we sit
and listen
and breathe
and lean
together
we smile
and twinkle
our eyes
and watch
each other
i think
and ponder
and consider
who you are
You are
and will be
my love
and light
forever
(Back to the top)
Only Her
By Wil C. Fry
Sept. 25, 1999 (age 27)
There she was, sitting across the room, a shade covering her eyes
And all else disappeared, as if in a dream
There was no sound, no temperature, no one else in my field of vision
Only her
And then she looked my way, only a glance
But that was enough to keep me hooked
Behind her shaded eyes, I thought I saw something
Something that gave me hope, and I watched her
Knowing I was incomplete
Knowing I was full of disappointment
And hope arose within me
Hope of something, anything better than what I knew
I still have that hope
And she is still sitting across the room
A shade remains over her eyes
And I am still in a dream
There is still
Only her
(Back to the top)
I Want To
By Wil C. Fry
Sept. 22, 1999 (age 27)
I want to kiss you
On the neck, and then
Press my lips against yours, feeling the soft warmness that is there
I want to run my hands through your hair
As you hold me
And press yourself against me
I want to smell you near me
That sweet scent that makes me breathe
Like it’s my last breath
I want to undress you
First with my eyes, and then with my hands, while you exhale softly
And touch me softly
I want to feel your skin against mine
In that way that only we have
While I kiss your navel and lightly touch your nipples
I want to lay you down
And massage every part of you
And kiss every part of you
I want to join with you in making love
Slowly, letting every moment fill itself with passion
And the minutes slide away, feeling like seconds
I want to please you
In whatever way you want, in every way you want
For as long as I can
I want to taste you
That sweet taste that only you can give
And enjoy the taste with you as our mouths come together
I want to enter you
And fill you and feel your warm wetness around me
And feel the warmth of your body against mine
I want to remember you
Like I’ve never remembered anyone else
And love you as no else has loved you
I want to make you forget
The clock that binds you to this earth
And the burdens that pull you to the ground
I want to
Do you want to?
(Back to the top)
the last kiss
Wil C. Fry
Oct. 17, 1999 (age 27)
She kissed me today
I don’t know why
But it still felt good that she thought to do such a thing
Even though I’m sure she had her motives
And it felt good to feel her lips
On mine
Even if it was for the last time
That she’ll ever make me feel that way
Still, I’m getting awfully tired
Of being left
And I’m getting awfully tired
Of saying good-bye
(Back to the top)
Not You, Girl
Wil C. Fry
Feb. 16, 2000 (age 27)
I won’t climb that fence
I won’t scale that wall
I will not get on my knees and crawl
Not for you, girl (not for you)
I will do my part
I will say my piece
And then I’ll just leave you in peace
That’s for you, girl (that’s for you)
Yes, you are pretty
Yes, I want you bad
But, no, I won’t give you all that I have
Not to you, girl (not to you)
I see you daily
I think of you now
But to you, girl, I will not bow
Not to you, girl (not to you)
I’ve seen all the hurt
I’ve felt all the pain
This, time, I won’t be left out in the rain
Not with you, girl (not with you)
Please, come closer now
Let me see your face
I’ll keep your memory in a special place
Just for you, girl (just for you)
Give you what I can
But please don’t demand
And I won’t listen to your silly reprimand
Not for you, girl (not for you)
I’m not up for sale
I’m not up for rent
My heart has been broken after it was bent
But not by you, girl (not by you)
(Back to the top)
Enter Me
By Wil C. Fry
(Written as a fictional character for a story)
April 30, 2000 (age 27)
Stand with patience at the threshold
Of me. Scared. I know you are
And fear of hurting and fear of dying
And fear of tears and fear of temporary
But waiting will not help you acquire
Me. Or mine. I know you want it
Want the touching and want the caress
Want the body and want even more
I am flaming — I am frozen
I am eager — I am scared
I am worth it — I am worthless
I will love you — I won’t even care
Step inside love’s misery and become
Battered. Reeling. I know you will
From sharpened, broken edges and sword
From jagged roughness and hate
Step inside love’s beautiful and caring
Heart. Feel it. I know you can
Feel the tenderness and feel the stroke of my hand
Feel my smile and feel my nakedness
I am fire — I am ice
I am reaching — I am numb
I am a jewel — I am dirt
I will love you — I won’t even care
(Back to the top)
First Date
By Wil C. Fry
July 11, 2000 (age 27)
Is it a date? Are we friends? Do I get a goodnight kiss?
Maybe it’s fate, maybe it’s sin, Maybe it’ll end in bliss
I know next to nothing about you, except you look good
Do you wanna see a movie, or do you wanna go get some food?
Do you want me to pick you up, or should I meet you there?
Is it alright if I run my fingers through your hair?
I know it’s hot outside, but I’d like a moonlight walk
Or, if you want, we can go to my place... and just “talk”
Can I have your number? Can we go out again?
Sure, of course, I’d like to hang out with your friends
—Where are you from? What kind of music do you like?
—I like to read, listen to music, and camp and hike
Well, it’s getting late; I can already see the dawn’s early light
I guess I’ll take you home, drop you off, and say “goodnight”
(Back to the top)
Falling In Love (Skyscraper)
By Wil C. Fry
Sept. 5, 2000 (age 27)
Well, there she was, sitting on the rail
Sweat trailing past her brilliant eyes
Powerful sun seemed to make her frail
But still a hurdle to any man who tries
Two doors over, and only one floor down
I found that my eyes invariably would stray
Below dangling tendrils of hair so brown
To where my nestled head would like to stay
Knuckles white as the rail she gripped
Traffic below and planes that soar above
Mere distractions to my heart as it ripped
As I wished and leaned out for her love
Her heart’s door, her eyes, turned ‘round to bore into mine
As I lost my balance, falling, I knew I would be just fine
(Back to the top)
Hating You
By Wil C. Fry
Sept. 30, 2000 (age 28)
Moan with the rhythm
Use your nails to scrape my skin
Showing me the pain
And make me enjoy my sin
Beat me with your fist
I love to be all black ‘n’ blue
Kick me out your door
Make me enjoy hating you
(Back to the top)
WOMEN
By Wil C. Fry
Oct. 2, 2000 (age 28)
They make you,
They break you
They bring you in and take you out
They gain your trust, then fake you out
They feed you,
They lead you
They grow you up, and weed you out
They give you food then slap your mouth
They hail you,
Assail you
They arrest you and bail you out
They box you up and mail you out
Defend you,
Then end you
They hold on tight, then lend you out
They hold you close, then send you out
They fill you,
They kill you
They plow you up and till you out
They drink you up and spill you out
Till you’re gone
(Back to the top)
She, so young
By Wil C. Fry
Oct. 15, 2000 (age 28)
She blinked her eyes at the sun
Then looked at me, sitting there,
off to one side
I tried to see past those moist,
crystal-blue orbs
But instead, I was hypnotized
and hated myself for it
hated my weakness
she, so young
holding so much power over me
With some regret, with much pain,
I tore my eyes away
from that trance
I got up and walked away
to save myself.
(Back to the top)
Sinking My Ships
By Wil C. Fry
April 25, 2001 (age 28)
If I asked you to repeat
those wonderful things you said
Would you have any idea
What’s going on in my head?
Would you know that your moving lips
Are sailing and sinking all my ships?
(Back to the top)
This Silver Ring I Wear
By Wil C. Fry
March 19, 2002 (age 29)
This silver ring I wear
With tiny jewels missing
Reminds me of women
I will not be kissing
The tiny brilliant glints
Of reflected silver light
Teach me to avoid
Temptations of the night
The intricate carvings
And open empty hole
Are symbols for the pieces
That were carved from my soul
