Waxing poetic on thoughts, theory & the times
July 20, 2017
I make myself bare,
Expose my soul,
Hoping he will see,
Will care,
Perhaps,
As he once did
I teeter,
Foolheartily,
Walking on a line
Of sanity
I weave my heartstrings
And hang my tapestry,
Aware,
indifferent
that the world can see.
July 9, 2017
From my distant view
I catch a semblance
Of burdens you carry
despite distance withstanding
My impulse remains
a need To carry
some of the weight
Somehow
Much like you have
More than once
For me
Please let me
Do so
for you
If you only could see
How much your being
Influences me
You might understand
Why I cannot
Pull back
My outstretched hand
Songs of the troubadour
Give me false pangs of hope
For a love that is not
Mine to call my own
He asked her
Not to love him,
And not to analyze him,
Then laid a labyrinth
At her feet
Twists and turns
She can’t
Help herself;
But wants to
Trace it’s path
A game
She is not strong enough
Not to play
July 5, 2017
She lost her footing
Once before
Imagining she was imagining
A true scorpion child
In fear
She struck words from the page
Discarded her compass
Deleted celestial lyrics
And cast off her epic tale,
In vain.
Here and now
She cloaks herself,
gingerly tests
tepid water of words
Wanting so much to share
And open a heart, bursting
Fearing a repeat dance
with Maniae
She questions her suspicions
And agonizes
Over understanding
The complex webs woven
by the distant one
she can only love.
July 1, 2017
I search
In daylight
In the night
In crowds of faces
In the rain
In snow
In the country
In the city
Here
And there
In story
In song
And in legend…
For in my dreams
you no longer come,
As I’ve lost
too much of myself
meeting you there
And memory has fossilized,
been reimagined
in different shapes and color
And yet the same ache returns
Knowing what I’ve known
And may never experience again
But having known it
I still feel the warmth that comes
from having felt love
That lingering feeling
is what makes it
nearly impossible
to let go
entirely
And so without intention
My heart seeks
And unexpectedly
reminds endlessly,
of you
She of Letters 