Ok, I admit; I still have that shameful longingness.
When you gathered everything else up and left me to myself,
And, when the war of words ended,
It was clear that the love between us had begun to show cracks.
It would never happen to me, was the conviction I always had.
But, I was ushered into the habitat of the estranged ones.
I have been shown forms of love by a million strangers.
But, I don’t feel the tenderness of that.
Your love that is toughest to get is the one that’s greater and superior.
Many times, I wonder if you might still think of me,
And that lets a tear drop at the crow’s feet.
I stop the breath and let all the tears pass as they are in a hurry to run through.
I am different now, I am a whole lot better, come see what I have to offer.
I even run all my new thoughts by you in my head,
To prove that they are every bit rational.
When others ask how well you are doing,
The hidden shame that there is not just six degrees of separation between us,
Makes me display nuggets of overheard conversations about your life.
The faintest murmurs of our memories crawl into my heart,
Like these words on paper.
A word or two from you will most certainly drown me in the monsoon of joy.
Sometimes, those raging regrets I have bring about an edifying atonement.
Only the dead or the unborn are forgiven. Isn’t it true?
And if I jump, you will find our favorite snapshots in my pocket.
* * *
* The embers remind me of my life, The logs with their withered skin, Are turning into ash as I watch. The same crackling noisesThat my fat will make, When I will burn along the Ganga. Most people want to live a 100 yearsYet, not know what to do on a lazy...
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Aut Viam Inveniam Aut Faciam I will either find a way, or make one. Questions, just ask! Text or Call: 678.310.5025 | Email: email@example.com Bringing a Group? Email us for a special price!
* As you slip and fall, my thoughts are along with you atop the death train – la bestia. A smiling young man you were, one second ago,the next – a limp body in the overgrown unworn path.A heatstroke at 16 has sent you home sooner than you wished for. But is any...
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Poetry “How do one see the big picture and hold the world’s pain, and at the same time see all of the bright edges of joy? I think that’s at the center of my question.”~ Poet Ada Limón Questions, just ask! Text or Call: 678.310.5025 | Email:...
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* Just A String Of Words? A good poem demands the dignity to be understood. History repeats in its resounding words. Repetition is a poem's strongest flavors. Poems are words with life because they're current and most urgent with their message to humanity. Yet,...
Questions, just ask!
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