Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

i fell for you

February 18, 2019

i know you know,
you know i do..
it’s not my fault
i fell for you;

or that i saw
what all can see,
and recognized
its worth to me;

the breadth, the depth,
the thoughtful soul,
the craziness
that makes you whole;

wherever else
true beauty lies,
in you, its best
is full and wise…

as much as true…
though not for me,
for your sweet love
i will not be.

i know you know,
i’m glad you do…
and gladder still
i fell for you.

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things will be just fine

February 13, 2019

let’s agree to disagree,
to part as less than friends;
to tactfully – but honestly
concede how this thing ends.

you’re beautiful, you’re wonderful,
at least in your own mind;
and i would not, in any way,
speak ill of one so blind.

if anything i said or did
appeared to you unfair,
please believe it meant no more
than i had ceased to care.

your happiness is all i want,
so long as i keep mine;
you need only choose to leave –
and things will be just fine.

ungoogled

February 10, 2019

i wondered why, but still don’t know…
i chose instead to let it go.

i guess the thought of what might be…
does, at times, mean more to me.

more than being right, or wise,
or revealing foolish lies…

as if the truth, if it were told,
bare, and straight, and hard, and cold…

might be less than what it seems…
when it’s tested by our dreams.

first things first…

February 5, 2019

time and breath too often race ahead of us
slow them here; give them a moment’s rest
and to me, to my voice, sweet attention
with permission from no less than your faith

let those fears of love’s consequence fall
along with your restraints and inhibitions
suspend, for me, your indecipherable control
of those senses aroused in passion’s endeavor

lend to me more than the body, the flesh
more than the heart or its present intention
lend, instead, what moves them within you
what animates their presence, their beauty

say nothing; no thoughts or secrets spoken
could possess the depth and breadth i seek
the conscious mind is too littered with life
to shed the reservations of its bitter lessons

rather, withhold all but that you cannot
sharing only those sounds which need escape
those barely audible expressions of want
as my heart, my hands, may reveal them

it is in these, not the wanton cries of desire
that the unwritten pages of love’s diary lie
here, between sighs, are the signs to ecstasy
kept close, like some map to buried treasure

here, so often hidden, is the voice of the soul
the one suppressed by years of disappointment
still longing to call out, to invite, to encourage
unable to declare its ambition with full affection

let me hear this voice; let me listen to its song
let it guide me, if it should find my heart enough
though something less would still be a pleasure
it fails as much in foundation as it does memory

as she was…

January 28, 2019

she lived beneath the surface
always breathing much deeper
always thinking much longer
always aspiring to be more

she condemned very little
save a life of moderation
which she regarded wasteful
useless, like all fad diets

life is consumption, she said
and hers, controlled gluttony
as passion was her first passion
with nothing sacred or second

she weighed opinions lightly
having so often been labeled
a slut, a brain, a queen, a fool
and seeing each in her accusers

while she knew of self-doubt
she had it very well trained
just like most of her men
and a few other strangers

and she wore everything
like she wore nothing at all
as if beauty acceded to her
lending itself as an accessory

this she was, as i met her
before our first of anything
before i knew of any flaw
beyond the many i possessed

from there, a life followed
in somewhat of short order
lessons learned together
the way only life can teach

looking back, more or less
she was, while being both
what my heart now knows
as that nearest to perfection

one

January 20, 2019

it weighs on one
one worries so
one thinks it’s there
but doesn’t know

at times it’s hid
before one’s eyes
denied by truth
revealed in lies

for one dare not
admit it’s real
‘till others share
the way one feels

yet it remains
persisting still
as if one’s heart
might bend one’s will

why i quit the devil

January 13, 2019

i was working for the devil
selling one-way trips to hell
earning priestly sums of money
from a Sunday-school cartel
whose devotion to its dogma
had made Christ an infidel
but the souls it put in peril
were too righteous to rebel

i was feeding off the fortunes
of my latest ticket sold
when a child of that purchase
standing barely six years old
came upon me with a trinket
with an image etched in gold
and he offered this, his idol
as if prophecy foretold

for this precious metal portrait
with four words upon its seal
all he wanted was a ticket
so to follow his ideal
he was calmed by our agreement
though its promise was surreal
as if nothing meant so much
as the thought the thought is real

just a trinket, just a treasure
just a bargain, plainly made
just to reunite a child
with a parent who had strayed
yet i hesitated briefly
as i thought about my trade
and the cost to all with knowledge
of the price that would be paid

i was working for the devil
and till then i had no qualm
i saw faith as a religion
i thought love its healing balm
but i never knew belief
or felt passion in such calm
as within this child’s treasure
and the words, “i love you, mom

go dog, go

January 6, 2019

go dog, go
good as it was
was the first
to give me cause

blue cars, red
and yellow, green
made me think
of sights unseen

made me want
another book
made me take
a closer look

made me see
beyond the page
wisdom lies
as well as age

taught me well
to chase a dream
love and laugh
at times, extreme

touch the earth
but feel the stars
be a part
for all is ours

ours to keep
if we so choose
in as much
as we still use

go dog, go
chase fantasy
all you are
inspires me

inspired by the 1961 children’s book by P.D. Eastman

common sense

December 21, 2018

if you did, but you won’t
then you should, though you don’t
which why, what could be
is still less than you see

so perhaps, start again
take a look, now and then
at the sea, at the sky
and reflect, and ask why

as you did, once before
on that walk, on the shore
overwhelmed, from above
with a deep tranquil love

and a sense, all your own
that you’re never alone
for your heart, like your soul
is but part of one whole

in the spirit of the holidays

December 16, 2018

the reason for the season, they say
is most often expressed in spirit
a faith in something greater than we are
a shared belief in more than ourselves

if we disagree on certain unknowns
as to just who, or when, or how
we seem to understand the larger why
at least – if only – for a little while

embracing the best we wish for all
for ourselves, our friends, our families
acknowledging the good in our fortunes
ahead of the struggles we face daily

we are, at times, what we hope to be
devoted to our ideals and aspirations
without ignoring the needs of others
especially those we love and care for

the perspective is not a new one
we have all gained it at other times
but those are usually times of loss
times first accompanied by sadness

this moment, this one time of year
we are gifted with our truest vision
sight of what is, and what could be
absent the weight of loss to obscure it

and we revel, each in our own way
in the wonder of all not yet understood
in those dreams, and schemes, and magic
which gave us hope when life did not

and we hold them close, like children
listening to a choir sing ‘silent night’
wholly unaware as the darkness falls
conceding itself to brightly colored lights