|
| |
speaking_of_love
|
|
|
lycanthrope
|
Did I speak of love before I met you?
If so I was a mad king, commanding
a tide pool to genuflect
and swinging my sword,
before the laughing shoreline
drew my eyes up to immeasurable blue truth.
I was a 12-year-old hopped up on sugar
and ranting into a headset
and throwing my controller against 100 screens.
How could I have spoken of love
before I saw you like a raccoon
in a bar's alleyways
devouring with glittering eyed joy
those parts of me I had consigned
to so many rubbish bins?
I was speaking the latin mass
in a drive through wedding chapel
in Reno,
while you built out of your errors
and transgressions and wounds
and brilliant kindnesses -
a basilica full of light and honeyed smoke,
in which I could properly desperately shout the divine.
How can I have spoken of love
before you had collapsed under me
and over me,
our bodies wracked with pleasure
in more angles than dreamt of by Euclid?
I was looking for love like a green
bird watcher clutching a field guide
written with what I assumed the wisdom of ages -
when a weird pretty and rarest thing
alighted on a branch in front of me
and caused me to drop book and hands and jaw
and accept the primal task of my own definitions.
I have never spoken of love
and I never will again.
I will speak of you.
With night wild brambles of hair
streaked with swan flock silver.
With a blunt and funny rhetoric
guarding kindness I thought was my burden alone.
I need not speak of love.
Right now you are asleep in our bed
twisted in blue linens
with a lilting snore
and fits and starts and then
a long sustainable sigh,
speaking of love for me.
|
181219
|
| |
... |
|
|
unhinged
|
i hesitate to say it
naming it has generally backfired
as i was leaving your house
i almost said it
without_thinking
my lips were about to
form the words
before they could be silenced
by my past
almost
not quite
|
181219
|
| |
... |
|
|
unhinged
|
(you told me once
to learn how to keep some for myself
prone to extremes
now
i forget how to give any away
my tongue frozen
around the words
even my hands stilled
speaking
writing
saying
never created the reality i wanted before)
|
181220
|
| |
... |
|
|
Lemon_Soda
|
Hearing a song
Sung so strong and powerful
Feeling that great love welling inside me
and thinking of one I can never be with again
|
181220
|
| |
... |
|
|
dafremen
|
Y'all killed it.
How could love's stage not acknowledge?
How could it refuse to reward you, eventually, with the role of a lifetime?
First though, a thousand disappointments, a few almost could've beens, a million heartbeats condemned to emptiness and the echoes of their expression.
Art is a hermit. Art is a lover. Art is life and death and love and anger. It is the moment and the eternity. It is who we are; who we aspire to be and avoid.
Easily said. Not so easily lived. But the high cost of inspiration isn't wasted on those who whose feel how deeply it longs its becoming.
Do0d knows.
|
181221
|
| |
... |
|
|
arwyn
|
i want to pour my heart out
yet words fail.
how do I tell you i love everything?
everything is such an incomprehensible concept.
I love the little stuff.
The look on your face when you're happily asleep.
How much you love books.
The big stuff:
your strength.
your love of learning.
The way you forgive my flaws.
you're amazing and I'm lucky as hell.
|
181224
|
| |
... |
|
|
jane
|
yasamin
|
190416
|
| |
... |
|
|
unhinged
|
i hesitated for a reason; he can't say it back
'something is missing'
i really should trust my intuition
|
190510
|
| |
... |
|
|
Doar
|
OP....Dude...
Too much of the legal and I'm loving your verse again.
Modern freaking poet.
.
|
190510
|
| |
... |
|
|
unhinged
|
i put on blather what is important to me. i am a labor activist now. after years of historical research, i have left nuggets here along the way for my own remembering. nuggets that i found important or fascinating to my position. the 'legal' isn't about you or anyone else that reads blather. it was purely selfish notation on my part.
thanks; i revisit my old dreams of publishing regularly as of late
|
190511
|
| |
... |
|
|
Twitch
|
The catalyst for existence. The fuel from which burns the sun. The Godhead.
I've fallen in love twice in my life. And really only one of those counted. I didn't know that the palate that is my body could come up with such deep and beautiful colors. Somewhere along the way I left it out. And now here I am, more money than I know what to do with, no children - some friends - missing you.
Peace out Cub scout.
|
190511
|
| |
... |
|
|
unhinged
|
oops
nothing to do with me
|
190512
|
