POETRY

Re-Runs/ Second Chances

glass-time-watch-businessPoetry is a woman whose palette has been seasoned by pain and bitterness and I indulge her every time she comes calling. Our love affair is everything unconventional. She doesn’t call every time I don’t just to say goodnight. In fact, she doesn’t miss me.

But when the rhymes and rhythms are stripped, we are left with a story crafted in the crucible of pain, anger, and self-doubt so allow me to regale you with the tale that is everything story and nothing poetic.

Lonely

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Yes, I have been lonely,

In a crowded room,

When faces were bright and smiling,

I have felt the gloom,

Of secrets, crushing on my heart.

I thank you

We are having a baby girl!

I thank you for the grace to be,

Close beside those needing me,

The gleam of hope in loss;

The nudge to my soul, when on to err,

The spirit teaching me to hear,

For strength to bear my cross

Ciru

When wars and ruined men shall ceaseWhen victory like the last embers of hopeWill warm our heartsInto sweet remission, oh the form

Limited by imagination rather than experience,

Experiencing life only within your limits,

Pleasure a thing you do not think you deserve,

Deserving nothing but to please everyone…

On and on you tread the shores of life,

With your broken oars at hand,

Wanting nothing but your deserved pence,

Pep-talk 101

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As I sail the Internet
I see the many failed ships
Some were set a-row and abandoned
Some captured by pirates and all their goods stolen
Some may just have given in to the pressures of the sea
And allowed themselves to be broken by the waves
Still failed ships they are
Evidence of a journey once started
But whose end will never be seen
Shadows of what might have been
Mockeries of what was
Laughing at me
Daring mine to join the row
To become one of them
Failed ships
Empty
Dead

Waiting for love

SpokenWord

I read somewhere that if you repeat something enough times it loses its meaning

For example, love, love, love, love, love, love… see? Nothing

Or when you just talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, one day you will forget why

The beautiful sunrise becomes just 6 a.m

The dance becomes only a routine

The love song gets lost in obscurities

The little girl lost in time waits for love to show up again

When the sun set

The shadows shifted to the left

They decreased in size

The plants looked relieved

The clouds more white

Their pace increased

They had found rest

When the sun set

The woman I want to be

I first met her within the pages of a book

From the first page, she had me on the hook

She promised satisfaction and delivered it on every turn

She was beautiful

As beautiful as a fourteen-year-old could see

Glorious even…

Someday

She stared into the open space

As though looking for something she lost

Only she was not thinking

Or looking

She was trying to numb her feelings

‘When does it ever end?

Is this what it is destined to be?

A life of loneliness before I meet the one?’

She wondered…