Tag: Love

So Close

Across seven skies
to where rivers flow
sweet and cold
and love grazes
as a fawn along the
green meadow’s edge
Where red poppies bloom
in unleashed freedom
not twisted into wreathes
to mark a million graves
It’s all there
West of all that men know
As close as your soul

The Letter (Postage Due)

I would like to write a letter
long and thoughtful and simple
in expression to touch upon
a few life lessons worth
mentioning to younger me
Some items he
could have known
might have known
but didn’t

Of gods and goddesses
How they are sold
indiscreetly
openly
door-to-door even
by tax exempt piety
To be careful not
to buy but rather
to find

And of love there is
much to say
How it is too often
traded the same
as the gods but know
that love is not conditional
Not something to be earned
but free
when it is true
Otherwise
do not believe it

Of course you have heard that
to give is better than to receive
and I consider it to be true
But seek to know the reason
most of all and you will
be rewarded

Do you recall you were told
you could be anything you
wanted to be?
Well, the world will try to
steal that belief from you
Hold fast to it even though
many will speak ill of your
uniqueness
Do not fear them
Cling to your dreams
and change the world

I hope this gets to you
I confess I do not know
the postage for a parcel
to the distant past

Keep moving forward
The years will pass
increasingly fast

Sincerely,

You

Unbreakable Bond

I see the colorful rows of boats
weathered and coarse as
the shrimper’s hands holding
hot coffee in the hours before
the sun the motor softly
rumbling in the pitch of
the predawn oceanscape
A life of
wrestling
coaxing
blessing
the tempestuous lover
that is the sea
Never dreaming of
leaving her briny
loving
embrace
A study in
devotion

There Are Times

There are times when
no amount of crying
will suffice
though the great seas
rise and swell from
the depth and deluge of
our sorrow
the dead will not return
to life
love denied will remain
unrequited
Wars will continue to absorb
the small broken bodies
of the innocent
but cry we must

and shall

for there are times
when tears are all that
are left to us

Mother

Love was the absence of pain
The belt withheld for paying obeisance
if the grades were good
depending on her mood
she might be lenient
a roof food clothes bed
nuff said
she the ramrod of this
orphanage equivalent
and no permission for
opinions
self
nurturing
allowed

Love Never Dies

He couldn’t give her the moon
Whoever hung it put
it out of reach
The only object
in the night sky
he could give her
it seemed
was the town
water tower
so he climbed it

Pledged his love
there

on a cloudy night
beneath the
soulless glow
of a flashlight bulb
in
large
leaning
letters
of Apple Red
Rust-oleum

“Ricky
+
Jolee”

And he prayed
she could see
it from her place
up in heaven

Seasonal Lover

She finally arrives
Breezing into
the room in her
flowing
windswept
dress
Hair
a mess,
refusing
to address
my inquiries
as to why
she arrived
not quite
a fortnight
behind
and before I
can speak my mind
she wraps herself
around me
So delightfully
fresh I forget
about time
Everything
is suddenly fine
The wait is over
“Welcome back,
October”

Barren

Playing solitaire
in the desert I lost
the two of hearts
in the sand
beneath the bones
of a long abandoned
swing set jutting
up like the ghostly
bones of Chernobyl
so I sat silently
Alone
The sun branding
my arms with scars
I had lost
An unwinnable farce
without two hearts
joined and strong
Even the scorpions
paused their
crawling
Longing