Tough Love

“When someone is hard on you it may have very little to do with you.”
― Bryant McGill

Steven Klein

Torrents of disparagement spoil little comforts that came in the soft hands of a woman. In hidden gifts her bounty is made known to searching eyes. Holding nothing but feeling everything, imagination ignites passion’s blaze in the deep recesses of cold homes. With no names and no kisses, a sole burning heat sears lust’s consummation of the unholy matrimony. Were there rings one could understand, were there concern, one could live peaceably, but in the mix of questions and longings, agonies and danger, love exists only in the breath of heavy sighs. Hardened hearts learn to feel through calloused emotion, tenderness never an option unless it leads to satisfaction of an aching in the loins or the soothing of a searching heart.

Missing – It lives in me

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter how much, how often, or how closely you keep an eye on things because you can’t control it. Sometimes things and people just go. Just like that.” – Cecelia Ahern

“Waiting here for you.

A long, long time for you.

Through the night,

‘Till the morning,

‘Till the dawn of a new day
For you, to come, to me”

– Sylvia Doyle

 

Missing, it has personality, a heartbeat, it lives in me. With hope it builds up, then crashes down in sharp shards that rip across my mind; holding my chest I vainly try to keep in my soul that which is flowing freely through my fingers with no respite. The distance, so hard, the missing so heavy. No fuel for the fires of comfort in this moment, aching to hold you again. No way to make time hurry, it pursues me mercilessly, as I spend my days running one step ahead of the ache. When I stop, it collides with my soul, running through it with full force, leaving the hollow echo of you. Your alive, not dead, your gone, but your still here. There’s no resolution when love is taken by force and held away against my will.

01262012

A Death Called Dove

“What a short time I had been given to experience love. I felt as my life had only recently begun and now it would surely end at sunrise.”
― Meredith Taylor

sweetesttootsieroll

Found then a little dove cowering in the birth of new

A blade came near and scant to miss

only a hairs breath relinquishing bliss

Flying before her time with wind both a friend and foe

Thinking to see, her wings grow tired

Blind fear rushes never more inspired

A shy grasp at what becomes a mysterious fateful lore

Trying but giving away the hidden life

Reduced to nothing and shut in by strife

Again the hungry clock stood its watch over gentle dove

Only to alight were she would never to fly

Wings fail to carry her to comforting sky

Talented feathery quills of reaching passion stoned to silence

Will giving her gifts to the clouds that call

Only create little pieces in the memory of all

Just dreams of doves laying torn in dawns fading embrace

O fragile dove you’ll ne’er see forever pain

Walking in silence ’cause your wings are maimed

Also published in Broowaha Citizen’s Magazine

Her-icane

“If people were rain I was a drizzle and she was a hurricane.”  
– John Green, Looking for Alaska 

The hurricane was coming.
 No more wondering, no more warning.

 

Grabbing the tools to put up the ply, 
I began to work, an eye on the sky

 

Nail after nail, I secured what was mine, 
my loose ends are bound with white twine

 

Wind tugs my sweaty hair now, 
as horizontal drops begin to pound

 

Forgetting one thing in all the hurry, 
the open front door in rain now blurry

 

Rampaging through my unprotected gate, 
the raging storm expresses all of it’s hate

 

It’s all over with damage everywhere, 
all of my belongings strewn around there

 

I could have prevented this wind that blew, 
had I stopped myself from loving you

02082012