Ever wonder why you attract the people you do!
And they say the central theme is you?
As if, you would want the pain, unleashed too?
Your head’s right, your game’s tight,
many players on the field and nothing is alright,
or feel right?!
That’s the story, an endless litany!
What am I to do?
All that I have, untrue!
Mushroom trippin’, ecstasy driven,
they come around wantin’, constantly takin’,
that’s me attractin’ !??
Time wastin’, roll in the hay, and!?
Maybe it’s the voodoo, how between my legs do,
curved as rescue,
boat, line, head too?
Ever wonder why you attract the people you do?
has purpose forgotten me?
I look around wanting a friend
someone I can call to spend,
minutes that can’t be forgotten
shared laughter gifted to the wind.
open wide the other side,
how living ought to be!
sit tight, break bread
sip wine, twirl a bit
a crocheted connection along life’s end-ing.
sometimes in the maybe of tomorrow’s fold.
many are near. None so dear as my bitterest friend.
all are seeking,
as if seeking is its own demand.
I smile and gaze
at times, I say hello;
for a moment, a sign! recognition!
loneliness, oh faithful friend!
how can I ever let go of your holding hand?
Much as I wish not for despair,
you’re always there,
a stare! a glare!
and I’m woven into your sleeve of chances, perhaps
purpose has forgotten me!
only the hopeful loves as sweet as poetry and the unbroken so heartedly! I was once upon a lifetime both, in one breath! ’till I tasted earth In her bitterness, withholding air. In the abyss, I bowed to her torment. birthed in memories of long-drawn out wishes, wrapped in grandiose designs As if I could! Innocence, poor tale bearer! Awakened, baptized in love, when a fool believes, it would always last!
It’s been close to five years,
nearly sixty months and so many days,
I’ll start singing, “seasons of love”.
As if you were part of a show
or an act in a theater of design.
Were you a show?
Or just a display
in a basket filled with wonderings,
and colorful pots of poetry
inked in shades of effervescent minutes?
Whatever it was, whatever you were,
indescribable isn’t a chapter,
nor a statement.
How can I, a writer or so you’d call me,
I’d be a fool,
not of the sea!
But of mind and spirit too!
How you knocked my senses!
Pushed my limits!
And ruptured my barriers!
You, the lava!
I, your burn!
Erupting in places,
Oh! the holey places I never realized or knew!
Now I’m nothing,
but carcass, ash!
On a plateau of memories,
But you won’t let go!
The simmer in my veins,
dormant, yet alive!