I’ll Have a Warm Sweater

I’ll Have a Warm Sweater 

you’ll know where to find me
I’ll be the one studying the shapes of the stones that line the dirt at the side of the road
I’ll be frowning
I’ll have a warm sweater to combat the chill coming from inside
shreds of sodden tissue spilling from the stretched out pockets
you know what I’ll be seeking
I’ll be desperately trying to regain meaning
lost without my shadow friend
going through the motions
leaden arms, sightless eyes, frozen heart
you won’t be able to see me
I have become invisible
trying to find myself
without you there is no me
suspended in time unloved, unfeeling, unmissed

 

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.

The Saboteur

DL at nightThe Saboteur

Weeks, months, years passed
First encounter imminent
Impulsive and thoughtless
I undermined it all

Acting on a whim,
no thought to repercussions
driven by a wish to surprise
and a spirit of adventure.

These stated motives
suffer under closer scrutiny.
Did fear direct my actions?
Or an unstated need prevail?

What did I fear?
That the reality of your touch
would fall short of my fantasy?
Or that I would disappoint you?

Predictable fears yet
deep inside I knew
that was not how it would play out
and that scared me to death.

I didn’t know it at the time,
It took some contemplation
soul searching, uncovering truths:
I feared I would never let you go.

That I would fall completely in love
with the reality of you in my arms
and never want to leave your side
and our worlds would turn upside down.

And reality and fantasy would merge
this new world unrecognizable
To either you or me
And ‘though we loved, we would lose our selves.

So we retreat to fantasy
And I still want you
And long for your touch
And am yours for always.

Desolation

Note – I wrote this late November 2011.  The words echo even more meaningfully today.

 

Desolation is now

Desolation is today

Fearing I’ve pushed you away

Cringing from the memory of my written words

The blame was never yours

The fault lies within myself

What good is a gift

if you cut yourself with it?

 

There is a skill that I sorely lack –

leaving along that which is imperfect,

Driven to smooth the edges

and to whisk the invisible dust.

That imperfect state may house what otherwise can’t exist at all.

Frivolous housekeeping provokes too much unsettling of debris,

exposing that which should not be uncovered –

blinding spotlight on the unacceptable flaw.

 

What seemed full of clarity

becoming more obscure as layers peeled away

Having long acknowledged the limits imposed

but steadily losing the resolve never fixed.

One thing emerges as unequivocal.

In any form deemed proper

I must have you in my life,

I must know you’re there

 

Knowing it can never be more

Accepted with stone filled heart many moons ago.

But complex feelings sometimes offer

a wider range of what becomes acceptable.

My panic increasing by the hour

Not just threatened with yet another loss

but the loss of you

No other choice, caring too much.