I heart you
Sounds oddly
Painful
Like, I hit you,
or
I smite you.
St. Valentine was
Martyred,
Though, so
I reckon
I heart you
Is fitting.
Tag: love
Love Kept
He always knew where to find me, beneath the stairs with a novel in my hand.
The question was always the same, Whatcha reading? I instantly responded, A book,
Knowing he’d chuckle at my lame predictability. Back then we kept love in our pockets
Like wrapped peppermints to be savored after a spicy meal. Cool reminders of everything
Important. Kiss me now, I thought. While my breath is sweet and you are laughing at my joke.
Let It Be
I find myself singing this throughout these terrifying days. It breaks my heart to know that many of my friends who once sang along are now under Trump’s influence. Greed and an adherence to false religiosity have turned their hearts and minds away from the tenets of peace and love.
https://youtu.be/cKolD582AVI
Lyrics
When I find myself in times of trouble. Mother Mary comes to meSpeaking words of wisdom, let it be.
And in my hour of darkness. She is standing right in front of me Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Chorus:
Let it be, let it be. Let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.
And when the broken hearted people Living in the world agree, There will be an answer, let it be.
And though they may be parted there is Still a chance that they will see There will be an answer, let it be.
Chorus
And though the night is cloudy, There is still a light that shines on me, Shine until tomorrow, let it be.
O, will I make up to the sound of music Mother Mary comes to me Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Chorus
Slow Clap
After your heartfelt speech I started a slow clap, but no one joined in. The saddest
Part was that you deserved every accolade, but my attempt fell short and silence
Reigned. Is there anything more damning than the sound of nothing reverberating around a hall?
Later, at the soirée we held hands and danced languidly to the strains of a small jazz combo.
Smoke Gets in your Eyes took little of the sting away. You still felt the absence of applause.
Thirty-three Words
My friend Jan Wilberg at http://www.redswrap.wordpress.com inspired me to be inspired by a prompt on the Trifecta Writing Challenge:
Here’s my take on it:
The text I read told the whole tale: Last night was wonderful. Let’s do it again. But it wasn’t written by me or to me, so I torched his favorite motorcycle. And laughed.
Oasis
On the other side of the desert, behind the third dune on the left, lies a patch of emerald
Lushness surrounding a small, irregularly shaped pond of surprisingly bright turquoise
Wanderers of every type have marked this oasis on their maps in bold strokes of ebony
Lest they venture off course and forget to count the dunes or consult the compass rose
I traveled there once, in the days of my youth on a humped beast, coarse hide of camel
Down hearted, discouraged, my lover lost to another, and I trapped by the monster green
In paradise I languished until roused from my reverie by a note written in crimson
Return home, my love, the words inscribed, without you here all the days are turned to gray
The choice was mine, remain in the land of dunes eating figs or settle for black and white.
Just for grins, here’s Maria Muldaur’s Midnight at the Oasis.
Lives of the Earthbound
Do I feel pity for them, the ones who languish down below? While I sail the updrafts,
Wings buffeted by opposing winds, they scurry about, these creatures tied by gravity and
Need to Earth’s secure illusion. Would I trade places with them for the prospect of
Lifelong love, slow sex on a rainy day, a five course meal with créme brulee as dessert?
Give up flight and walk on two spindly limbs for the whisper of a lover? I’d miss my wings.
Here’s another take on this by The Bard of Liminga:
The House
A lifetime ago
a summer rendezvous here
when the house was whole
I’d escaped my life
you’d made all the arrangements
uninterrupted.
Those days forgotten
or merely sweet memories
of crisp linen love.
Apologies
The paper, blurry.
Angry marks on a white space;
Ill-defined slashes
Emotions stripped bare
From teary accusations
And gut clenching guilt.
Insistent regret,
Sorry, so insufficient
Apologies fail.
Twenty-four Hours
Days aren’t as long as they used to be. Back when our two children were feisty toddlers and my
Husband worked revolving shifts, twenty-four hours lasted twenty-four years and nobody
Cared that I was drowning in every single second. Nurturing was a foreign concept peddled
By well-meaning matrons and judgemental church ladies. What in hell was wrong with me
That I didn’t gush over every milestone, each budding tooth, too exhausted to care that my babies
Wouldn’t be babies forever and that someday twenty-four hours would feel like twenty-four
Minutes, and a year reduced to a week and my babies grown and out on their own. Too soon.
My daughter celebrates her 36th birthday today. Even though I love her fiercely I wasn’t a patient mommy. The days of her infancy passed as slowly as liquid concrete, and I wish with all my heart we could have a do-over.
But she’s grown into an amazing, beautiful woman, and I’m so very proud of my Ashley. I love her, like her, care about her. Every day.
Peace, people.
Praying for Eyebrowz 