Thursday, August 28, 2014

Happily Never After

Image By GlenAFord at en.wikipedia [Public domain], from Wikimedia Commons

One of the hardest things to see
is when to accept that it may never be.
Both of our hearts bleed,
not able to give what each other may need.
Romance I think we have honestly tried-
and your effort cannot be denied...
But when you move to touch me anymore
my skin stings and my body feels bruised and sore.
I said I felt abandoned and neglected
And you say you always feel rejected.
How can we see eye to eye
when it feels like we are living in the safety of a lie?
Waiting for the good parts to come
meanwhile our hearts grow cold and numb.
The problem isn't whose to blame
No matter what we try it stays the same...
I am a thorn in your side,
making you feel obligated and tied
Safe and secure, tried and true
always a work in progress, relationships take two
Ten years is a long time to wait
only to find you've lost your soul mate.
When two people are in love
whatever appears difficult they're able to rise above
stronger together
unlike stormy weather
Circles of speech, a vortex of energy
even simple conversations have lost the synergy
Focused on whose right and whose wrong
I haven't been wanted, cherished, devoured in so long...
I keep waiting, searching for a sign
that you want to be just mine
"Its not important to me" was your excuse,
telling you how I feel is of no use.
Moving on, getting over it, forgive and forget, it's all okay
since nothing really matters that I say,
'I'm sorry's' galore, 'I didn't think of you'
is any of this your fault too?
Can this ever be fixed
without broken promises- left hanging or nixed?
Perhaps my heart is just to scarred
I don't think it should be this hard...
Even now when there's nothing to lose-
but after this long it's plain to see
that it's not me
you choose.

Friday, August 22, 2014

Suffering in Silence

By Antonio da Fabriano II (Italian, active 1451-1489) (Walters Art Museum:  Home page  Info about artwork) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Shhh! I'm straining to hear
(I must admit, to you
this is my greatest fear)
thundering, rolling silence
boulders unwedged
cracking from a dry spell
not able to find the words to tell
nor a drop in the hollow inkwell
a writers ramblings
that chokingly clutter
floods of thoughts, ideas,
those clever lines I mutter
all taken for granted!
Perhaps there's just nothing
more needing to be said,
(it never before
felt like such a chore)
It used to come
like a heartbeats drum
Absent, broken, chaotic ideas
now dam
and make me look dumb!
A river of words flows by,
a waterfall of passion spills out,
taken by the current inspiration
that usually carries me
Dry and jammed
lodged with self-immolated Styx,
a busy beavers idle work,
where idleness eddies may lurk
I am told not to worry
it will be back and come in torrent
Can you hear the watery voice?
Comprehend its murky messages?
Now, I should confess
I am responsible for this lazy mess
(it's not as though I haven't tried
"I wrote a little today," I lied.)
Instead sterile white paper mirroring thoughts
Letters, symbols, pixels,
words that don’t go anywhere
stuck in virtuous silence
waiting for the stream to come...

Composed 8/22/14.

Friday, August 15, 2014

Fruits of Labor

White noise whir of the circular saw,
sputtering gears of mower blades churning,
taunting the helpless pungent grass
still dotted in hopeful dew.

A mockingbird stretches his lungs,
flying through the scales.
Beaming golden rays,
warmth rapping on panes.
Asking to come out and play
on a steamy summer suburbia day.
Waves and smiles, neighborly beeps,
off to work with kisses on the cheeks.

Dishwasher soapy claws churn away,
and the dynamic laundry duo readily toil through the day.
Lemon zested home sparkles with a happy clean,
primped and buffed, for no one it is seen.
Busy body chores, errands and more,
barely ever done by four.
Futile with growth, grime and clutter,
the gas tank starts to sputter,
The daily grind,
brews another hot cup of day.

A sweet moment in the citrus glow of evening,
freedoms breezy greeting,
stops all-
butterflies, hummingbirds, dragonflies,
even the birds held their note-
to inhale the nectar's
still blooming sweat.

lingering in the orange summers eve.

Feature image by Jon Sullivan, via Wikimedia,Public Domain"Bees really like pollinating my Meyer Lemon tree"



As the crow flies

On still days with drooping flags and contented leaves Sounds somehow soaked in between the crevices of broad daylight I sit as still as my ...