In My Stunned Silence

beauty

I began to walk again,

my feet feeling the bricks

inherent with the slow sludge

of crossing into a mire-filled

swamp of discontent

inside the self-loathing

natural consequence

left with feeling alone.

 

Oh, you might laugh

the onlooker,

safe distance from

the torment of a heart

ripped slowly to shreds

by some reality

even the owner of a pulse

could scarcely define

beyond having tripped

inside some rabbit hole

of unrequited love;

the sort we all dream

about at night,

when our lives can

separate,

our time is our own.

 

So, in this

the romantic’s stunned silence,

it is inside these walls

of personal torment,

we find ourselves right?

In here this place of pain,

is where the real Man

exists beyond the folly

of circumstance turned coincidence

designed unraveling romance,

becomes the silence in love..

photo – pinterest

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It Was A Simple Love

IMG_8401
photograph courtesy of MidwestFantasy

We began with cautions,

the sort that onlookers do envy,

that couple nearby,

faceless and passionate,

allowing only themselves

to be wrapped

in a sensual persona

that when found in public

leaves the people nearby

envious with a smile.

 

It was a simple love,

one that allowed expression,

heartfelt emotions,

that when eyes were checked

we could see for miles,

the beauty of our desire,

the lust of our need

to know, to wonder, to hold

each other close

with an eternal surround.

 

Oh, to be in her arms again

to hold forth the beauty

of her soft touch,

sweet is the reckoning

that when we did cradle

each other’s emotions,

we did discover

together

simple love,

the kind those write movies about,

or make short stories burn

with a fire,

that only a real person

may find solace.

It was a simple love.

Something I Need Her To Know

crying
crying woman – pinterest

Always will you be,

every day,

a moment

when you wake alone,

land inside a world of your own,

when while wondering,

if the next day will be the same,

within the hours of your mind,

when life begins its own journey,

one you are always led

to keep up with,

to understand

that time,

matters little beyond

the existence of your heart,

when measured against that of our society,

whatever that might be,

I need you to know,

when the dust settles,

and it will, give it time,’

there is a measure of beauty,

an elegance to waiting,

yet, howsoever long it might

be agonizing, be determining, be less poignant,

more revealing,

when in that day,

take a glance again,

for it is true,

you will always be beautiful.

A Broken Figure of Speech

When there were words,

would satisfy,

create a persona,

perhaps allow an

imaginative recall,

or a vision to depend upon,

when certain expressions

might suggest,

yes,

we will, I could, want, oh to be there

for her.

 

When there were words

we could speak

without needing to hear

a direct comment,

instead, there once was a travel

in our daily lexicon

allowed our lives

to imagine, to fantasize, oh forbid

the notion of leaving

reality behind,

and only then did we know

love.

 

I knew love one time,

as well as I prefer to know now,

it will never change,

this concept of my whole

body

feeling the loss, the sucked out realization

of all of my dignity,

passed along

to another stage of life

when reflection

might give credence

to that human error,

the human condition,

plays with my security.

I know or I believe, I thought

it may have gambled with hers as well,

though she won the battle.

 

I will always love though,

I know this,

it is something I can never imagine

being abled a grasp,

I cannot touch love,

yet, only then,

might I remember …

When I Could Speak

touch

She did,

he thought to himself,

there was no other way anymore,

so in retrospect

he did remember

when she used to once love his words

when his utterance might melt her inhibitions

 

When I could speak, I felt compelled to only build upon

the love that exists in every moment,

and now,

the sun is decaying along a horizon of hope,

and my tears will no longer suffice,

to allow the passion of her mystique

continue to inspire my words.

*

Ph/ Pinterest

To Understand Beauty

Oh, to define remarkable

is her impact upon my world,

wishing only to move from surface

to some internal mecca,

a landing point,

where it is that she might exist,

a safer distance from stereotype,

a more revealing response to

love.

 

For it is how we define

our needs met, wanted,

perhaps a fantasy

suddenly given wings to imagine

this is my truth,

and if you must know,

my every moment,

every gasp in my heart,

is an attribute to the surreal nature of

you.

 

‘Her’

would be so much

detached from the reality

of recognizing she is the intrigue

that part of my world

that allows my heart

to break, to ache, to have winsome

moments of clarity,

when while discussing the realities

of my world

I come to the conclusion,

always again, every where and every

time.

 

She is love, and having my heart in her hands,

it is my soul then, waits eternal … I will wonder.

Love Chose Me

coffee
coffee – pinterest

 

I was sitting in a coffee shop,

it was a familiar setting,

the voices, the lattes, the fruity drinks,

my black coffee,

a laptop,

inspiration by the hour,

she could look this way, and I might notice,

he might see her, she might, he would sit there,

she walk out the door, he’d sigh,

and each time,

another new story would begin,

right where the other,

each time,

a smile, an order, a steamed tea,

each barista knew the game,

and the people strolled right on by.

 

Except when she walked in,

his heart stopped,

he waited, he looked, he wondered,

he immediately felt a tear,

and he knew exactly why,

it was like she didn’t have to sigh,

she just became his immediate vision,

his whole world suddenly mattered,

she turned,

he wondered if he could,

would she, he might, he watched, she strolled,

and he said hello,

then she stopped, looked, her smile,

her eyes, the pullover that he seemed to recall,

it was like she was right there again,

and so was he,

and then her

eyes …

 

She didn’t know he’d waited,

for years, this moment,

he’d waited forever for the day,

her eyes would appear,

how could she know,

she was just getting a coffee,

in a place she’d seldom go,

and he was there,

and she sat down,

and they smiled, nervous, awkward,

but oh so long ago, and now.

 

They caught up,

he remembered,

she recalled,

and then she left,

and he wrote again,

she responded,

he wrote some more,

she responded again,

then it happened,

she knew it, he did,

he was beside himself with a joy,

she knew she hadn’t felt for years,

and then they knew

again.

Walking Into Midnight

I waited awhile,

I seem to want to

wait awhile,

I seem to want to,

while everything else in life

would pass me by,

would reach midnight when

walking on my own

would might forget that time

matters in our lives at all.

 

I’ve been waiting on midnight

quite some time now,

time seems

to matter especially when

we have the matter of

wandering through our mind,

trying to find,

trying to

trying to find time

before midnight,

when time seems to want to start over again,

yet while I’d begun,

seems I’ll be back again,

waiting for time,

waiting for midnight.

 

I’m sure to stand alone,

waiting for midnight,

it is getting easier

to act like it is actually

easier,

when it is not,

it never is,

waiting for midnight,

I wish I might

somehow find myself there,

so when the hand reaches out

I can grasp time,

when I can feel it near,

she’s near,

when I can feel her

nearby,

 

Then, if we could

then midnight might last

forever.

I Will Wait

Like a sweet recall,

a sunlit afternoon gives

grace

a time of solace

alone inside a memory

wistful breeze

a lingering scent of pristine

damp meadow blues

would we remind our lives

our hearts

became a steady remind

in searching two soul

a world apart

yet distance measured

only in the silence.

Would we awaken our hearts

if allowance provide shelter.

This Part of Me

A struggle ensued

when the man realized

her notions had changed

he could no longer

count on a passion

they both left alone

without trying to ignore

the reality of their

present need.

 

He stands in a void

wondering just where

or if

or is there any matter in trying

anymore.

 

Special days no longer matter

without the knowledge

they might enjoy

such beautiful energy

together,

being apart,

it is just another day.

 

This part of me …