Being Real: When Hyperbole and Life Intersect

Sometimes hyperbole tells the tale best of all.  I sincerely hope to get some feedback on this one.  thanks!

Being Real

– When Hyperbole and Life Intersect

Overwhelmed by a single thought
Unexpected.
Triggered by sweet words read on some site I don’t recall
A punch to my chest

A  shawl knit of sorrow draped around my shoulders
A vacuum sucks the air from my lungs
This sudden longing for you
a craving sharp and fierce

If I can’t touch you how can I live
and navigate my days?
Never feel you?  Never kiss you?
Never hold you in my arms?

The sands of regret
weigh me down and clog my breath
I am blinded to life’s beauty
We will never be together

You Are Gone

You are gone

I search
even knowing the outcome
you aren’t there.
The pain engulfs me –
ever sharper
So why do I search?

I can hardly string  words together
A disoriented soul
spawns a disorganized mind
Disbelieving
Unaccepting
Pleading to whatever god will listen.

You are still so much to me
more than the sum of your numerous alluring traits.
Always seductive, thought-provoking, stimulating.
and drawing out an other self
not known before
unable to be fully realized.

I was never more invincible
Than after contact with you – no matter how brief
Flirtatious, teasing, taunting
Tempting…. tormenting
You sent me into the clouds where
I lingered, floated and dreamed.

but you are gone…

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.

Pain Redux

It’s disturbing – difficult to believe
that some seek to injure themselves
Isn’t pain to be scrupulously avoided?
Even acted out on the screen – we carefully avert our eyes
And maybe even tremble a little.
 

I read that sensation cancels out sensation
That if you scratch your bug bite
that annoying itch backs down.
What can mitigate a broken heart?
I’d shed blood for some peace – if even for a few hours.
 

If I walked into the ocean
until the water washed away my tears
Does that mean there’d be no more?
The desperate measures that some are driven to
Now take on clarity.

As an habitual Pollyanna
my instincts take over
and lecture sternly to my desolate self
always believing that in the end
peace and kindness will prevail.
 

         The Spirit of the Goddess Minerva