Some thoughts violate pleasures
Some boil and seethe looking for fertile ground
Waiting to grow flowers which bloom blossoms heavy with blood
Desire wars with decency
Losing and winning
Who can tell when the lash falls
All the horror of imagination
By a Whispered
By the knowledge
Her only limit
How far I’m willing to go
The day ticks away. Scanning documents, looking for connections, waiting for the phone to ring. I was never happy with the waiting. It’s always easier when you aren’t personally invested in the outcome. I know that if I allow it, this will eat away at me. Poison me. I can’t allow myself to descend into the rush of taking. Making no mistake, monstrous as it is, the feeling of self righteous fury made manifest and acted upon, safeguarding my people and my girls, is addictive.
That rush as you pound after your prey, making the target, and standing over this person. The sound of the gun, the silence as their body bleeds out. The light fading. The flight to safety. All floated on a endorphin and adrenalin high.
It’s not until after that you start crashing. Sometimes you are in first stage adrenal failure. Your body gives so much for those moments. And the memories…the chase comes in fragments, the planning sticks with you. But it’s those last minutes that haunt. You run through the catalog of the targets misdeeds, hoping to talk yourself into calm. Hoping that what you did was justified. Sometimes it is. Sometimes, you just can’t convince yourself. And those are the sleepless nights. Holding your girls. Trying to keep yourself from flying apart.
This time there is none of that ambiguity. But their faces will still haunt me. Still look back, glassy eyed, pleading for one more second of life. And I will smile, grim and frightening. Dark fire dancing.
Maybe that makes me a monster.
So be it.
A desolate jungle bursting with life
predators… and prey
But not the right one
Animals burst from cover and spill out into the light
The cat watches listless
Only perking up when a particular bird sings sweet
Waiting for soft touch, for song,
for chance, for choice
For safety, for a truth spoken in the heart
And the soft crunch of bones
This flawless drift
A musicless melody
Notes straining at the edge of their tethers
A glance that speaks the world
A touch set quake
Foundation laid bare
This flawless failure
A baseless memory
Images flicker past dissolving into pigment
A hope that knows better
A taste forbidden, yearning
Words that drift and find no ear to hear
Her settles me down
As much as I bring comfort
And I’m needful but scared to
Just waiting for yes, you
Her poetry for me
And I for hers
I’ve learned some caution
Not nearly enough
Our touches are innocent
Excepting the maelstrom of desire that fuels them
Our words hidden
And behind our masks, improperly fitted, flash looks and smiles that burn
We are shadows of dancing flame
For your decision
Made behind the walls
Of your prison
Dreamed I was in some town in Scotland for some reason. I had the looming feeling that I was waiting for someone or someone was coming to see me. Odd.
There a flower grows
The yellow heat pours down
From a blue sky, soft rain patters staccato against leaves
The soft loam, smelling clean. Fresh earth and the crisp green of new growth
Fronds reaching out to the blue. Sun pounding down they drink their fill
Dew soaked grass, orange gold sunset and the failing light
The first blush of the darkness found amidst deepening shadows
Soft hushed, sounds quiet, the garden cools in the night air
The stars shine. While across the sky meteors fall like tears
The triumphant moon, full and ripe, arcs ascendant in a loving sky
This is the poem I wrote as my last relationship was ending. I wrote a each line in remembrance, over a period of 20 days, as I do not walk away. But It was over. Eventually, when other romance looms heavy, even I must shutter the past. As I did today. Not everything beautiful lasts forever. But sometimes that ending marks the beginning of something better.
Broken up and broken
Shattered up and shooken
Beaten and battered
You’re all that had mattered
Dreams are forever
But in reality it’s never
Reap and repeat
I wish it were more upbeat
But it’s all just ruthless
All my efforts are fruitless
These aren’t games that I play
But emotions run deep
For all that I say
I am here for keeps
Need a word in my ear
Something to tell me to stay
To make me take that leap
To fight all that is fear
Spinning notes hung in vibrant
drink the poison to be free
one last note of the symphony
denote the heart and it’s losses
pitched down into the dust
flat and empty
but rise and gain color
live a life extra ordinary
or choose to not be judged,
a voice is no place for lovers
but love gives voice and winds give solace
as the turning world bounces the hiss and pop
experience no crescendo
no tinkling rush
hurtle forward to the bridge
throwing our locks away
hand each other the keys
I sit in a garden waiting for it’s owner to come back.
She who causes my heart to soar and bleed with her words.
I wait, because this place is hers and someday, she may come back
I wait, because my heart demands I walk in its rows and amidst it’s ripening and look out
over the horizon to see her coming back.
I close my eyes and remember.
Kissed by the sun, blessed by the wind and the lightly falling rain.
I’ll keep coming by. Watering the plants. Talking as if you were there. always hoping that I’ll turn around, and you’ll be there.
But I fear, this garden and the words you shout, are all I have left.