Keep Calm and Carry On
A glimpse inside the life of one who has seen pain
one who knows loss, one who has the strength to rise
No amount of betrayal can take the fire from his eyes
He has been here before but did not expect it again.
No worries are had, tears were shed weeks ago,
inside, I knew the truth… lies to ears, lies to heart
lied to self, “well maybe not” to avoid tearing apart
True love must be a lie, thank you for that, upward I go
Love vs. Lust
Sometimes you find out that the one you love
is not what you want but what you need.
The age old conundrum… love or lust?
Logically, the choice is simple from without,
from inside, she can’t see the forest
for the Mack truck parked in her yard.
The one she is coveting and fantasizing about.
It is a truck, many more like it,
easily made with the ways of the world.
This is your second attempt at finding a Mack
truck with more beauty than the forest before you.
Are dreams activated in the hypersensitive sections of our brains, those only effected by the tidal sway? Is that the reason why people tend to dream at night; their minds are free from the pressing gravity of the sun? Such thoughts are pouring through my mind all day and yet I only find fascination during the dead of night, when said gravity is gone. I have been this way for as long as I can remember. There is a reason I am a night owl, I recognize the cognitive value of times such as this, when the mind is clear of the addled refuse of everyday life. I get two to five hours of sleep a night…. is what I do in my writing/thinking modes sleepless dreaming? I wonder, am I in touch with and making my subconscious conscious through the power of word? Is some of my poetry inspired my conscious subconscious, the ones that just happen? Questions I must spend time contemplating… or not, as it is.
What else could explain such a connection with a stranger
other than giving yourself to him that first night?
Lies to self and those you love do not erase the truth
Up all night, fucking your brains out, hope you had fun.
Now, you are caught in a manipulator’s trap;
a victim of psychological warfare, the dastardly kind.
The dick better have been worth the years of recovery.
The reason is clear why you push off the one you love.
Waiting he was, like you were supposed to…
Le sigh et c’est la vie.
Love Of Self
Some things money can not buy,
the frills will satisfy for a time but
something much deeper is needed
a connection of soul; of energy true
that magnetic pull that lies within
Drunk for a time on fantasies hashed
wake from the reverie to a new dawn.
You are my bliss, my all encompassing muse
You see me for who and what I am
You make me a priority in your life
Reciprocation is unquestionably given
A truth, an energy made manifest in a shared love
A maturing of self; a mastering of spirit.
Where are you going sir, the bellhop asked the man
“I am seeking the one I felt there but know is here”
What is the purpose of your fool’s errand, kind sir?
“The feelings I felt could lift a mountain, a champion love!
Majestic and true… perhaps the greatest virtue.
This love is rare in these days of pomp and circumstance.”
Do such loves really, still exist, my eloquent sir?
“They must for here it is, made manifest before mine eyes.”
By golly, sir, it sure seems of a magical nature
“A fairy tale love for a fairy tale craving world,
this story is writing itself, i but just hold the pen.”
Good day sir and happy travels for the rest of your stay.