Category: Love Letters

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Love Letters Poetry Thirsty Thursday

Past Life Vision | Letter 11

Dear Past Life Connection,

Don’t get stuck in your head
don’t think
            I’d be better off instead…
don’t let the demons get to you
don’t think it’s better if it’s new

I know it doesn’t seem so right
when things get hard & a little tight
but I think good’s worth a little fight
after this dark comes a lot of light
                           (I promise)

All that I could wish for you
is a cease of suffering, aches, and flu
this love, the wish for happiness so true
and the desire for such joy to remain
with fearlessness, absent any pain
and a healthy, happy, stable mind
a loving heart and neighbours kind

Don’t despair, my humble friend
for we’re at beginning, not the end
do not worry, do not hasten
it’s only our drive, our pulses racing

Let’s enjoy the lust, the draw, the pull
let’s unfasten our will, glass half full
of wisdom, we wish, we want to escape
this prison, ordinary existence, red tape

Somewhere between sex and fear
this passion lies
yet we’re too courageous
so we thrive
against all odds, mistakenly alone
staring reluctantly at our phones
aghast, embarrassed
a hint of cowardice
               — shit

Don’t get stuck in your head
we’re better off instead
to enjoy this dance of life
embracing opportunity with strife

I know it doesn’t seem so right
that it should be left to you
but in the interest of tradition
I encourage thou come through

Don’t despair, my falling friend
it’s just the beginning, follow the thread
roll the dice, don’t flip the car
please remember who you really are

It’s worth it
                 (I promise)

Love,
a distant past lover

Categories
Love Letters Poetry

near miss

we were supposed to meet for coffee
when I showed up, half-past two
I rapped upon your door
I waited there for you
I knocked again, but harder
something clearly isn’t right
I knocked again then tried the lock
lacking manners, impolite
without permission, I enter
you’re nowhere to be found
the dishwasher’s running
but your meds aren’t around
I check the tub and closets
past life fears resurface
I wonder where you are
as suspicion makes me nervous
you were supposed to make me coffee
at half-past two
I was running late
but that I always do
I knew something was wrong
when I didn’t hear from you
we were supposed to share some coffee
at half-past two
not five minutes later
I’m standing on your lawn
I’m entering your home
as quiet as a fawn
I know something is missing
the dishwasher whirs its plight
I know you are not here
I know this isn’t right
we were supposed to meet for coffee
when I showed up half-past two
I was running late
as you know I always do
you’ve never found a fault
and how I did appreciate
your kindness and your patience
even in accepting unkind fate
and how I’d love to blame you
like everyone else will do
but I can’t find a seed of anger left
only compassion true
so, please, do not be lonely,
if you are alone tonight
know you are still loved
do not give up your fight
we were supposed to meet for coffee
at half-past two
but I ran a little late,
and I fear I just missed you

Categories
Buddhism Love Letters Thirsty Thursday

Thank You | Letter 10

To my Ex,

Thank you.

You have given me much I will cherish for years to come. Nothing I can keep in a box under my bed. No pictures to burn. Gifts far greater – ones I will carry with me life to life, like my pure love for you.

Patience. 

Before I met you, it was rare to walk slowly through nature, and never would I think to name its parts. Waiting was a great torment. Sitting silent was near impossible. Then, you mixed your patient mind with mine.

Faith.

You challenged my beliefs constantly. A torture at the time, but such a gift to progress. This obstacle appeared to destroy our relationship, but served as a test I passed time and again. You helped me try each teaching until I had conviction in each one. I valued them more than temporary relationships. I would keep them at the cost of my life.

Love.

Though we did not know unconditional, we strove. I accepted love from you. And I found my happiness only in giving. For we can never take love for ourself from another. That will never cease suffering. Loving you has helped cease suffering. Loving all beings (even spiders) creates my happiness.

It is only in reflection that I can begin to understand that I was absolutely blessed by the Buddhas that my path be made meaningful and my travel swift. Thank you to Buddha, who appears as friend, family and foe to guide us from our misery.

If we can remember to apply the primary practice.

Thank you.

Love,
your Ex

Categories
Buddhism Love Letters Poetry Thirsty Thursday

Remember me? | Letter 9

Dear Karmic Potential,

Are we meeting again?
Have we met before?
Your appearance undoes me
but when I search
I cannot find me at all
nor can I find you

It’s like you’re in a different city
— certainly not here
and yet your closeness lingers
as though you are still near

Suddenly I am all the days
you choose to ignore
and I am the grasping
and I am the craving once more

Still, I cannot but hope you
also feel my presence
maybe yearn for my embrace
begging time be brief ‘tween now
and next you’ll see my face

I pray it be this lifetime
I pray delusion-free
Yet if I have to wait another ten
rounds to serve with you, I will

Love wishes only happiness
so that is all I wish for you

I know it’s all wrong
if ever samsara feels right
but this I am certain of, also,
we can, we will escape

Why not tonight?

Love,
A past and future partner in (escaping) crime

Categories
Buddhism Love Letters Thirsty Thursday

Happy | Letter 8

To the Musician,

How can I count the ways
I have experienced joy
with you
already

How can I tell thee
the way you make me feel
when I know I have
created the causes

How can I share wisdom
when I am drowning
in samsara’s sea?

Still, you have helped
dispel the ignorance
of a thousand aeons,
a dreadful darkness,
with a single torch

How can I tell you
how happy I feel
how content I am
in the present moment
here and now
with you
while also planning
our escape

Because to
escape suffering
permanently
is my only wish
especially
with you

happy
beside me

Love, the Muse

Categories
Love Letters Poetry Thirsty Thursday

How Now, My Lord | Letter 7

Dearest Othello,

How do I write this now? How now, my Lord, after all that’s become of us?

How do I tell you what’s become of me?

I’ve been sun-kissed and wave-licked
I’ve been rolling in the dirt
I’ve slapped a horse’s ass, cherry picked
and I’ve spit creek water to the earth

I’ve seen snakes in grass
and long thin worms, and sometimes chubby slugs
the forest yields such photographs
beetles, spiders, bugs

Moths and butterflies have pressed me
with silken, pollened wings
while no bee nor wasp has ever stung me
as the dog-day cicada sings

A cricket symphony has often put me ‘lone to sleep
under starry skies, dry eyes wake damp with dew
out here I do not care to weep – 
a tear outside was never shed, except those I shed with you

If I never loved another, Desdemona be my name
I have never touched another, yet an Othello I have made
I have never laid another, but you laid me with the blame.

Oh, poor Othello! Confused with talk
fed into ear by Iago’s mouth, untamed and tainted
with mirthful, selfish motivation, to destroy love! Revenge!

Was my mistake the one she missed?
The one where I fought back?
For though I’m fair, when I get pissed
boundaries up and eyes go black

Not so passive, lacking grace
I begged and pleaded and tempted fate
with tearful eyes and ruddy face
now there’s nothing to investigate

I’ve not strayed, and still I wait
as Desdemona would have done
had Othello spared her life and run
her story, I do speculate, and mine

Would be as one.

So though leaves have stroked my arms
And brooks have soaked my pants,
No other man has ever stirred me
Woodsy tickles come from spiders, ants

Still, the forest gets me going,
More stagged than sumac sprigs
How then I touch myself knowing
I’ve never caved to pleasure twigs

Right now, I cannot know your mind
How now, my Lord, I’m feeling blind!
So, in ignorance I must declare:

I will never sacrifice my virtue
To die upon a kiss
Know, still, I’m saved for you.

Love, Desdemona

If that the earth could teem with woman’s tears, each drop she falls would prove a crocodile.
Categories
Love Letters Poetry Thirsty Thursday

Homesick | Letter 6

[The Letter Your Ex is Never Going to Send]

Though recently I cursed your name
Your scent, your breath, a stink, a stain
Your touch, your feel, a pin, a prick
Yet in my mind, you stay, you stick

You’re fastened here, you linger near
As if you’re tacked, taped, adhered
Permanently welded there inside my head
Yet rarely now I wish you harm or dead

You simply appear as though invited for tea
It just happens quite naturally
And then I think…I want to come home
No matter that I’d longed to roam

I’d yearned to uproot myself to find
A freedom I could never buy
I’d have to fight and from that I’d shied
For my courage has not your span, nor stride

When I was lost, I saw your face
It ‘peared before my resting place
Before I netflixed, before I chilled
I’d see you there, and my heart stilled

But you’d dissolve with phantom grace
Leaving me grasping at empty space
Thinking, lingering nostalgic syndrome
Please, my love, can I come home?

I wish I did well on my own
When lonesome time and tears have shown
I simply do not enjoy hollow life
Knowing I gave up love, compassion, kindness, a wife

Someone, I thought, is all I need
To walk the forest trails with me
Perhaps keep me warm on winter’s night
Whom I can pleasure and give delight

Now the nights are long and cold
And though I’m young, I’m feeling old
I’m feeling lost, can I come home?
I don’t like life in monochrome

I miss your colour, I miss your zest
You weren’t unstable, you’re simply best
To think I’d thought you like the rest
To think I’d sabotaged your jest

Now when life is cold and grey
Like on this rainy winter’s day
My mind takes me for that trip
That makes me miss your leadership

I know I should seek happiness and peace
Plan my life, find new love, sign the lease
Still though I dream of travel, Paris, Rome
Mostly, I wish I could come home

Love,
A Dumb Fuck

Categories
Love Letters Thirsty Thursday

Solipsist | Letter 5

To My Muse,

A figment of my diabolical imagination. Silly lustful yearning, for you, a character from a fantasy novel I have written. You’re just the right amount of work, and we are ever unwittingly competitive. Keeps things exciting for an airy mind. Don’t you agree?

Of course, every dialogue we’ve held, every discourse exchanged has been in my mind. I try to throw you into my material world, but you don’t hold fast. I watch you release yourself time and again. So I have become addicted to the yearning for you, my muse, more than friend, almost lover, pedestalled perfection. Unconquerable, you stole my heart.

You are no strawman, and I cannot set you alight. You burn with your own passion and you spark something within me. I press on, inspired by my muse, yearning to show you what you’ve never before seen in this lifetime.

In quiet moments, when we can visit, I set us in the most unromantic places, so that a stolen glance is worth more than gold and the brush of an arm is too much. That touch, a subtle message for skin, instructs to flush. Grasping at flesh beneath clothes is knotty and taking too long. I worry the forbidden entanglement be discovered.

Out of this reverie, I am bound to chair and desk only by my own resolve to commit a fictitious tale to tablet, entertaining who it may. Spurred on like my muse’s mare, pressed with gentle kicks, cropped with supple whip, and treated with ultimate kindness though used at his whim.

My heart stolen, when you pressed yourself upon my chest. Your bosom lay where no man’s did, and so you have taken it, locked it away, like chastity, rare and precious.

I feel as though I watch you from behind a thick tapestry. Perhaps one revealing the fairytale of us, the almost ever afters, spiraling toward oblivion, time immaterial.

I whisper, I’m going to make one of those shifty eye paintings, and you shall be my star.

You lean over me once more, whispering your muse-like song:
I shall take your mind to moorelands far away. I shall dance you through the night and day. Joy and fun and boundless love and romance between us, this is where I long to stay.

And then, once more, you fade away.

My muse has gone away.

Just for now,
Adieu

Categories
Love Letters Poetry Thirsty Thursday

The Emperor | Letter 4

Dear Gallantry

The shadow
of the unseen

groundedness
ethereal

skittering claws
on laminate floor

MEW and the splash
of milk poured kindly

I walk to
the temple

hands clasped
feet bloodied
by pilgrimage

I have escaped
two cults

& am now 
a pilgrim
in an empty room

walls dissolve into
ecstatic space

galaxies permeated
by lantern lights

opened over lightyears
some long extinguished

into the underworld
a pilgrim’s womb

am I electric
circuit open

lips apart & move
toward

am I electric
if sparks would

come between us 
should we kiss

am I electric
bad to touch

I know not what
ill thoughts

your mind produces &
can produce

a stained extreme perversion
pressed over truth

If my mind convince me
You’re the One

The mother being in us all 
The child, fun

Yet still the warrior
standing tall

If my mind convince me
choose dead end

Plant the seed, Oh
Foe Destroyer

Reap the harvest, Oh
Great Enjoyer

I see the flame
alight in you

Like a moth I’m drawn
Oh please undo

Like a fly in your web,
Thanatos taboo

The mentor, a gem
my teacher, a guide

The sword in the rock,
Eros, my pride

Tears fall in my lap
in the castle alone

I unearthed the mask
to hide 

behind the offering
of pearls

A broken heart reveals
I’m not diamond nor stone

As the flame ignites
the animal yields

So I sought you out, Gallantry,
found you on high

along with your mind and your songs
and your thigh

which I’ve touched in my sleep
as I’ve stroked your hair

I’ve touched you in places where
you usually take care

to preserve with resignation 
that we should not be caught

staring too long while we’re working
or not, because

we’ve paused for laughter – my
god overall

I can’t help but wonder what
may come after

for you loved Cattle Call, and that
had me in

hysterics, a place I call home
giddy with giggles

and hellbent to roam.
Yet I

simply walk to the village
just over 

that bridge, and I walk there
so slowly

Climbing a mountain to get to
the ridge

finding a heart, healed & holy
set apart

loving the self, deep ocean
reminisce – you’ll 

do me the pleasure of delivering
this life’s first kiss

though we’ve shared infinite karma
what’s to ripen

right now can delight and amuse
us while we 

still develop, unattached, somehow
we’ll figure

it all out. Are you with me? 
Gallantry?

xx, The Empress

Categories
Love Letters Thirsty Thursday

Dear Ssaahhaah | Letter 3

Ssaahhaah,

This language is not one we knew. But the words come easy, and I can now describe you.

You, who opened as a sunrise over soft meadowed hills and brooked valleys. 

Ssaahhaah, who carried the wind on her back as she flew, lightfoot, anywhere she pleased. 

Our people gave us two names. How I love to whisper your secret name in the dark. Ssaahhaah. 

I stroke your hair and kiss your neck and a sensation arises in me I have no words for. So I say Ssaahhaah. 

You are the bringer of my joy. You persuade me to differ from the composure that I keep in public company.

The winds over the lands speak your name in my ear when I travel. Ssaahhaah. 

Oh to be away now, in order to sustain our lives. I’m emboldened by the vision of re-uniting once more. Ssaahhaah. 

I miss you. 

Graahhah