The Battlefield

The battlefield exists in my head.
The combatants are regrouping,
re-arming for their next attack.
The home team takes comfort in what they can see;
the logical progression of familiar scenes
narrated in crisp tones with familiar dialogue
while the visitors nod with knowing smirks
And behind the scenes a chorus of naiads
suggest other worlds in their songs

If you choose to listen to this seductive siren
Be prepared for swift ascent to a world of ephemeral ecstasy
and a precipitous plunge to despair,
so my Head coach cautions.
The sirens sing not only for you
They sing for whoever is fool enough to listen to their melodies
And often their sweet harmony will take you down unintended paths
Betraying your trust for their own gratification.

The battlefield languishes
The combatants bide their time
When hope is at its highest,
when I start to utter victorious words,
they will once again take their places
brandish their cruel weapons
camouflaged in beguiling images
destroying certainty,  confounding rational thought.

Fantasy

You are my favorite fantasy
And I am yours
You are my go to when curtains descend on my landscape
Blocking the sun,
transforming my Technicolor world
dulling its glowing surfaces.

No reminder needed,
your face as familiar to me as my own
offers its own illumination
lighting the way
to the dimmest corners of my soul,
restoring the luster to my tarnished heart.

Doesn’t Have to

                    

It doesn’t have to be this way

unless we say it does

Balancing on the juncture of

always and nevermore

Clinging to dreams

born in our hearts

tethered by fragile cords 

subject to the whims of what heartless judge

 

 

Draw me paint me mold me

Be the master of my universe

as you are the keeper of all my dreams

Write our script with words of your choosing

born of desire and longing

Subject them to a brighter light

freely given gladly received

treasured truths unveiled.

 

You gave me puzzles

now give me answers

When your heart speaks to you

what does it say?

When your eyes are closed

and the world is still

as you hover on the brink of sleep

where anything is possible in a dream.

 

It doesn’t have to end this way

Unless we say it does

we are the navigators of our way

and the authors of our script

and the guardians of our dreams.

Eschewing the ordinary

rejecting the common wisdom

for an uncommon destiny.

Culture Clash

Culture Clash                                                           rev. November 3, 2013

 
Trembling, tear stained
choking on bitterness
afraid to sleep
demons lying in wait
taunting her for a fool
chiding her for every well earned tear
laughing at her delusions.
no kick ass bounce back dime a dozen old news with it graduate of the love ‘em and leave ‘em school of romance,
culture shock overtaking a late bloomer, upright and ignorant, acquiring new vocabulary,  emotions overwhelming inbred propriety, rational civility, well honed modesty
Misplaced passions escaping the iron bars of habitual morality;
stored and forgotten,  left to ripen,  savoring freedom, generating their own brand of courage and strength
abandoning common wisdom for the uncommon illogical magnetic pull
of forbidden love in faraway places,
desire fueled by desire, emotion trumping reality,  surreal,  
the stuff of mid day soaps, bosom baring paperback novels
and Shakespearean tragedy.

Hope’s Alchemy

It will happen one day,  not tomorrow.
But tomorrow I will close my eyes and
I will embrace the dream not hold it off
With shaking tearful fears and doubts..
Welcoming – opening my arms,
my heart, accepting you into my soul.
And one day,  not tomorrow
but one day before this earth
completes another journey ’round its sun
we will be together
To complete what began with teasing winks and  tempting smiles
–years before –maybe-a hundred years before.
Was there ever a time
you were not known to my heart?

Overcome by powerful feelings,
Unspoken words, unanswered desires
needing hope to perform its alchemy
and turn bitter tears sweet.
With certainty that this feeling echoes and grows
rounded with common caring and desire
Mutual fears matched by shared hopes fuel growing passion.
Dreams are redefined with shape and substance to
mold the doubtful fantasy
Turning ephemeral whimsy
into fiercely wished for reality.
Using all remedy
and means of resource.
One day soon, in this lifetime.

December 22, 2011, revised February 11, 2013