All In – Reasons why I bet it all

“The value of a man resides in what he gives and not in what he is capable of receiving.” Albert Einstein

 pewpewlazerz

 You mock me when I place my whole being on a relationship you believe is a total loss. Let me tell you why I place all my chips on this roll of the dice…
I see the beauty overlooked by hasty and careless lovers

I see the hope in her intelligence, which she hid because she was told to be seen and not heard

I see the potential in her crazy wild rebellion, it chases the common fools away

I see the wonder in mischievous eyes, her wildness never tamed

I see the strength born from the violent men she has endured and survived

I see the determination to never give up, though the world laughs at her struggle

I see the passion that only a woman of character and spiritual vitality can bring

I see the scars that others gave her, trying to mar the beauty she wouldn’t give

I see the ravages that nature gave trying to lash her to the grave

I see the marvel of a woman, a companion, and a warrior by my side.

A woman, pure and undefiled, strong and wise, passionate and tender deserving of my gamble for the privilege to stand by her.

Also published in Broowaha Magazine




Lover – A Passion With Words

“No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.” Robert Frost

A reblogged post from Descending Ascension

loveendlesslyforevermore

My lover draws twine and yarn past my lips.

Threading words through my mind.
Coiling and winding ‘round my neck,
only letting pass words of breadth
My lover lets me liken glass to diamonds,
and forget the time.
Passionate and gentle.
Pulling me into a feverish passion.
Stopping my breath with a single word,
a simple phrase,
a quiet truth,
my lover knows how to look past my ruse.
Each passing moment is spent filled with the emotions evoked by such passions
Turmoil,
Desire,
Sorrow,
Joy.
Caressing me.
Tenderly kissing 
every page of my body.
Sighing my verse.
Let me write our love.
Demanding no physical touch.
Merely heartfelt words,
restraining our touch 
only to be released through the words on this page.
You understand this is my love.
My writings are my lover,
and I it’s suitor.
-R.S.L.S

Over Under Two – Stuck in the game of love

“She didn’t belong anywhere and she never really belonged to anyone. And everyone else belonged somewhere and to someone. People thought she was too wonderful. But she only wanted to belong to someone. People always thought she was too wonderful to belong to them or that something too wonderful would hurt too much to lose. And that’s why she liked him– because he just thought she was crazy.” – C. JoyBell C

I loved one, but didn’t know

until she left, it didn’t show


I loved another, but I knew
She left, it only grew

I now loved two, both the same
I’m stuck, love trying to tame

It’s like someone turned on the lovefaucet in my soul. Feelings I never had before, now come rushing in. Not just in one case, but in many. I thought I could feel this way for only one person. I now find out that what I’m feeling can be replicated in others. What the heck is going on in my psyche? What are these feelings? Can you love more than one person at a time? How do you follow your heart if it be given to several ways at once? What is the criteria then? If the golden rule is to follow your heart, what will be the rule now that the heart is divided? Or is it really divided? Perhaps you can share that love with others at will. What if I had a barrier that prevented love from coming to the surface, and now, it broke, allowing an overflow of it to pour into my life? A sudden rush, a flood. Questions cannot be answered, love will not allow it, forcing itself on my mind in spite of logic. It remains only to experience its joys and sorrows in the here and now of today.

Addendum: When confronted with two ways, both of which are good, follow the way which leads to greater peace.


Also published in Life As A Human Magazine


Combined History – Her reflections on the past.

“The moment there is suspicion about a person’s motives, everything he does becomes tainted.” Mahatma Gandhi
bing

The following is an entry from one of my favorite bloggers, Descending Ascension. She presents a raw and uncensored woman’s point of view of a relationship. My favorite line: “For me the thread is very short, but of darker tint. The tint isn’t determined by experience but sentiment and things which taint.” Enjoy…


History of love.

What is love?
Scratch that.
That’s too broad and too narrow to cover right now,
So then,
Let’s talk history.
Your history and mine.
When we decided to be together, our history melted into one intangible net of experience.
Yours and mine and ours.

All those girls, those women, they are a part of me too. I begin to know them in intimate ways, even if they are in the past.
I’m only sorry to say your thread of past is longer than mine.
More women, more girls.
For me the thread is very short,
But of darker tint.
The tint isn’t determined by experience but sentiment and things which taint.
I wear your history wound 5 times around my wrist, while you wear mine upon your pinky.
I ask you questions, you reluctantly answer.
You say nothing, and ask little of me.
Yet you begin to have doubts, and become confused with the physical nature of our intimacy.
I know my questions are biting.
I know my remarks are heart breaking.
Does it break your heart that so shyly I ask to know the truth?
Is your soul pulled at whenever I am patient with your flaws and when I accept them? 
When I let them sting on my cuts, but still love you?
Does it make you love me more?
Am I a consolation prize, second best to your first?
To the special one in your heart?
So it must be, that she too holds a place in my heart, because, remember, your history is also mine.
I wear her around my shoulders while you wrestle with mine.
My history.
My unrequited love.
Is this my patience or unwitting masochism in which I subject myself to heart break and pain so that I don’t feel it by chance or at the hands of vicious lovers?
We seem to have a very odd relationship.
I can never take her away, nor can I ever replace her, just like you will never be him.
I guess the questions we should be asking ourselves are “If we could, would we?”
“If they did, would we?”
Would you take her?
Would I go to him?
Only then can we define ourselves.
What we are.
Yes or no.
Maybe you’ll know my answer someday.
Maybe never.
Just as I will know yours.
-R.S.L.S

Published in her blog: DescendingAscension

Combined History – Her reflections on the past.

“The moment there is suspicion about a person’s motives, everything he does becomes tainted.” Mahatma Gandhi
bing

The following is an entry from one of my favorite bloggers, Descending Ascension. She presents a raw and uncensored woman’s point of view of a relationship. My favorite line: “For me the thread is very short, but of darker tint. The tint isn’t determined by experience but sentiment and things which taint.” Enjoy…


History of love.

What is love?
Scratch that.
That’s too broad and too narrow to cover right now,
So then,
Let’s talk history.
Your history and mine.
When we decided to be together, our history melted into one intangible net of experience.
Yours and mine and ours.

All those girls, those women, they are a part of me too. I begin to know them in intimate ways, even if they are in the past.
I’m only sorry to say your thread of past is longer than mine.
More women, more girls.
For me the thread is very short,
But of darker tint.
The tint isn’t determined by experience but sentiment and things which taint.
I wear your history wound 5 times around my wrist, while you wear mine upon your pinky.
I ask you questions, you reluctantly answer.
You say nothing, and ask little of me.
Yet you begin to have doubts, and become confused with the physical nature of our intimacy.
I know my questions are biting.
I know my remarks are heart breaking.
Does it break your heart that so shyly I ask to know the truth?
Is your soul pulled at whenever I am patient with your flaws and when I accept them? 
When I let them sting on my cuts, but still love you?
Does it make you love me more?
Am I a consolation prize, second best to your first?
To the special one in your heart?
So it must be, that she too holds a place in my heart, because, remember, your history is also mine.
I wear her around my shoulders while you wrestle with mine.
My history.
My unrequited love.
Is this my patience or unwitting masochism in which I subject myself to heart break and pain so that I don’t feel it by chance or at the hands of vicious lovers?
We seem to have a very odd relationship.
I can never take her away, nor can I ever replace her, just like you will never be him.
I guess the questions we should be asking ourselves are “If we could, would we?”
“If they did, would we?”
Would you take her?
Would I go to him?
Only then can we define ourselves.
What we are.
Yes or no.
Maybe you’ll know my answer someday.
Maybe never.
Just as I will know yours.
-R.S.L.S

Published in her blog: DescendingAscension