Tag: ending

Categories
Poetry Saturday Expressions

What now? | Session 18

If it was never fixed,
    it can’t be rebroken

yet it’s shattered now completely

while I am made whole

I have been repurposed
                   utterly renewed

now I know
         freedom,     not heartache,
         ensues

amazing – I waited
                   so patiently —
. . .
         okay, no
                    I begged
I literally got on my knees and pleaded

(humiliating really)

for C L O S U R E

I practically pulled my own teeth for it

(I simply stole a toothbrush instead)

I was intoxicated by the lust for a bitter end –

while being denied it again and again

knowing it’s going to come
inevitably

so I begged for early release

the buildup was incredible
intense at times

(filled with that crazed yearning)

but, as it so often is, then withheld

so when the climax didn’t come

time went by and trepidation

S t R e t c H e d

to a numbed oblivion, almost
forgotten – then rediscovered and

(as I was waiting for, begging for)

followed by the instant explosion,

so incredibly quick we call brief into question

a lit fuse to a pinch of dynamite

I waited for the punch! And it never came

it merely sizzled
                 a spark, lacking flame
                                  and while I wish

so strongly, I could say,       you too
were just a sizzle to me

instead I just admit you were a strong second

(sorry, never a first)

and of course such thirst for you

has permanently ended

no hurt            no difficult goodbye

no hard feelings

             just sweet, sweet relief

what now?

Enlightenment

Categories
Poetry

Kinda feels like “going”

It always ends

     like a Robert Frost poem

he speaks
     in a language she does not understand

she tries,
     but he is wizened, suspicious

     innocence has no place on a tired vine
bird shit scattered over the fields

wash your produce, she says
           and he takes it all wrong
                   “What’s she on about now
                 I’m tired of it”

            he’s cracking, she’s cracked

yes, when we resign our wills
         to others,
                          when we bend

we believe we will not break
       until the ripping point is reached

will another aimless traveler
                    risk his life to rescue    me

or shall I unravel the web
              I’m caught in
      and escape myself

after all,
          there is no independent existence

Categories
Poetry Saturday Expressions

Lost harvest | Session 10

The fruit on our vine has withered
        I long to cut it down, but something stops me

I feel you lurking, breathing on my neck,
  wishing I hated that 
    now unpleasant sensation

You keep appearing to me as a vision
          at my window, at work,
across the road, getting gas or 
                                      exploring knee-high weeds,
                             observing afternoon-hot walls

Summer stinks of memories, snorkeling,
     the big bug ID book, hidden peacocked notes

Hot days soothed with cold water and
         indulgences rare opportunities afford

Not appreciated and never found again

I couldn’t stand to be with you now,
   experiencing anew the arrows of your delusions

So why do I crave you at all? Am I so plagued with
                       inappropriate attention and my own maras?

Cutting the wizened fruit, so something
                  new can grow, still seems undoable

With a heart full of love, wishing for non-
                     attachment, I observe

You’re hard to let go.

Categories
Poetry

Womb of Time

It seems silly to confess such a vision
now, after so much time has passed

But such an image must be released

Like milk gone sour in the fridge,
flushed chunky down the john

How I would have followed you endlessly
how I’m built to follow, as a soldier
chivalrous in bruised armor, undefeated

Though appearing a king, I act a knight —
two forward and one over, L for loser
let’s invent our own games instead

How in my dreams, I submit my strength
in trusted servitude, loyal to my last breath
I am the lion that lays with the lamb

I follow you through fields, under stars, three hours
from home, flashlight in hand, owl calls on a speaker
hung from the lower branches of the pine

The air, cold and damp, presses us together
in scientific embrace and present ecstasy
end of winter love, blooming with spring

I follow you into the tent each night,
our bodies pressing squeaky air out of the mattress,
our throats downing iced coconut water, before each other

Our fingers feed furred friends before midnight,
Touch each other until dawn, pop and squeeze
tickle, tease, and cook together each morn

I follow you across the province,
each step a wish for you to accomplish your dreams
in my fantasy you have aspirations, and you name each one

Before bed each night, you whisper fairy tales to my closed eyes
All the places we’ll live and all the beings we’ll help
the examples we’ll set – no one will kill a spider again!

I follow you to a reinvented world, our happiness laid
bare and bearing only arms of peace, love
the kindness of your hand on my face,
              the warmth of your embrace

I follow you from lake to lake –
I pack dinner for us to take and barbeque
watching the sunset over rough waves
                            washed smooth in the dusk

Though the water’s cold, and I know not its depths
my hand in yours, I dive, snorkeling for the first time,
submerged skin sensations new to my airy nature

I follow you down sandy coastlines,
metal detecting or searching for pretty stones
collecting materials, like magpies, for our nest

I follow you through ups and downs, hardships and
some celebrations do offer return on investment
I like you just the way you are, in spite of anxiety

I follow you until it’s dark, and you begin to fade away
and when this imagination ends, I know you do not stay

Because it was my vision, not yours