Tag Archives: Love

Never Again

To my one and only who left me to cry

Just a month after love in the month of July:

I hope in my heart you are happy and well

Though I know I won’t see you again!

To the one whom I sang to by river and trail

Without even a thought that our kinship could fail:

I hope in my heart that you’re singing right now

With a voice I’ll hear never again!

To the one I confided in joy and in pain,

Whom I kissed on a bridge in the darkness and rain:

I hope in my heart that you’ll never be lonely

Though I’ll never caress you again!

To the heart that you broke that is healing tonight

I promise you’ll once again feel alright!

I hope you keep hoping and loving forever,

For hoping for love is a worthy endeavor,

And because you loved once you’ll be light as a feather

Even if you love never again!

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Do Unto Others

There are two invisible powers

And both go by the name of “Love.”

Both share earthly symbols

Like a flower or a dove,

Both can feel spectacular

And to lose them feels rotten,

But only one is cherished

While the other is forgotten.

The first love, which we celebrate

Comes in many ways and rates,

Whether flourishing in one glance

Or through countless many dates.

It’s an all-consuming passion

That no drug can replicate,

Designed by God or nature

To ensure two people mate.

I prefer the second love,

Which many haven’t known,

Which can’t be felt by starry eyes

Or fire in the bone.

This love is not a feeling

But an action that we take

Not to gratify ourselves

But for another’s sake.

This second love is not reserved

For those with lovely faces.

Instead it’s most important for

Those found in darkened places,

And yet with equal vigor

To your wife and to your foe

You manifest the second love

And to both parties show.

You needn’t feel amorous

To help a stranger carry

A heavy bag, nor should you feel

Obliged to them to marry.

And yet the baffling part about

This second love these days

In when you show a person this

They’ll spurn it seven ways;

“Shee’s clingy,” or “He’s needy,”

Or “He’s trying way too hard,”

Or “He’s creepy,” or “She’s lying,

“So I must be on my guard.”

In most cases the rebuke

Is one of self-defense,

For many who show kindness

Are expecting recompense.

So when one shares the second love

For nothing but the good

It seems what was well-meaning

Is oft misunderstood.

I hope if you’re a giver

Of this secret second love,

The love for human brothers

Unconnected by their blood,

That you do not forget the gift

Or cease to feel or give,

For you’re an ever-scarcer breed

Who knows how best to live.

And if you may receive the gift

I formerly did mention

That you may understand it

As a love with good intention.

And if you’ve never thought of love

As something more than lust

I hope you read these verses

With an open mind, and trust

That if you try to love someone

For their sake, not your own,

That you will feel a universe

In which you’re less alone.

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Being An “Us” With No “Them”

When was the last time a stranger

Whispered something in your ear,

Whether something that was naughty

Or perhaps a secret fear,

Saying something so important

That they risked becoming near

To share with you a datum

Only you were fit to hear?

If you’ve never given quiet

I think you ought to try it.

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Coping

I’m reading a book recommended to me

By a woman whom I once adored.

I’m reading, avoiding inviting the world

For the world leaves me feeling ignored.

I make friends with a spider I’m terrified of

Who lives on my white bedroom wall;

I know he deserves life as much as I do

Even though he is creepy and small.

I’m wearing soft clothing, lying and waiting

And writing a poem in bed,

Remembering over and over forever

The words that I felt and I said.

I’m hearing the lawnmower, water through pipes,

The cars on the road passing by

Destined to be somewhere other than here

And I can’t help my wondering why.

Why is the grass not allowed to be growing?

Why must the spider bring fear?

Why do the people drive quickly to elsewhere

When they know they will end up back here?

Why do I care for an author’s opinion?

Why can’t I love people less?

All I can do is get up and keep smiling

And be me: a beautiful mess.

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Five-Year Plan (Updated)

There’s a little yellow house

With tulips in the yard,

Home to a pair of dreamers

And an angel on the way.

One of them’s a teacher.

Her husband is a bard

Who sits at a computer

Making problems go away.

The echo from a timeless love

A love that first began

When she asked him to talk about

His “perfect five-year plan.”

There’s a little library

Inside that yellow house,

A studio where students come

To learn the clarinet,

A kitchen big enough to please

The more attractive spouse,

And two young hearts forevermore

As full as they can get.

They’re thinking of the day he said

“I want to be your man,”

The first of many steps within

His perfect five-year plan.

You’ll never hear a hateful word

Be spoken bu them there.

They never let an apple sit

On any empty chair.

They smile at every photograph

Hung on the family wall,

But they won’t say what happens when

The captain comes to call.

And when the five year plan was done

And the house was home to four

He’d renew the five-year plan

Another lifetime more.

But there’s a little yellow house,

For-sale sign on the lawn.

It never was the home for them

The bard had counted on.

Turns out a five-year plan for two

Won’t work with only one

No matter how much someone cries

When they know that it’s done.

The perfect lifelong five-year plan

In three months was complete,

But when you love someone that much

You can’t call it defeat.

The sun still shines, the waves still crash,

There’s still a dusk and dawn.

The leaves are green, the rain is wet,

His eyes are nearly clear.

Just like the clouds that once were grey,

His heart is moving on

From yellow houses, unborn kids,

The teacher, and his fear.

The one thing he won’t leave behind

And knows he never can

Are memories that came to life

Thanks to a five-year plan.

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How Much Would You Cry If You Had 17 Eyes?

There are ten-quintillion insects

In the world, we estimate

Who deal daily with the fact

They’re objects of our hate.

They’ve never read a poem

And they’ve never seen a play

And we just go and murder them

As they go about their day.

Lots of people say things:

“Love your neighbor,” “Peace not war,”

But they don’t even bat an eye

When vacuuming their floor.

I think when we begin to care

For the welfare of bugs

Humanity will finally see

The real value of hugs.

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Thanks for the Memories?

Some people say it’s easy

To never care too much,

To be free and fun and easy

And they live their life as such.

I wish that feeling apathy

Was simple like they say,

But alas, the need to care too much

Won’t seem to go away.

To make a fancy breakfast

And not share it with another;

To read a book and wonder

What exactly makes heights wuther?

These and many other things

I wish I could erase

But I sleep a lifetime later

Still just thinking of your face.

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Everyman

Somewhere near you is a man

Who has a loaded gun

And a heart full of unspoken pain.

He cannot see the sun,

Nor can he hear the laughter

Of the squirrels and birds and trees.

He walks upright, but out of sight

He’s fallen to his knees.

Somewhere there’s another man –

It might even be you –

Who gives the first a little nod

That says “I feel it too.”

And sometimes just a nod like that

Is all you need to say

To help a wounded warrior

Put the loaded gun away.

You don’t need superpowers

Or a cape to save the day.

Smiling is enough sometimes

To make the world okay.

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Worth Waiting For

One day a boy was throwing stones

At nothing in the wood

When he struck the belly of

A creature pure and good,

A unicorn of golden mane,

A thing so unexpected

He hardly knew what he could do

The moment they connected.

He knew just what the creature was,

For one cannot mistake

A unicorn for something plain,

An angel for a rake.

He laid his hands upon it

And for some time they were one

Until the moon had passed ahead,

The herald of the sun.

And when the boy had fallen

Into sleep, as boys must do,

The unicorn turned to the North

And took a step, then two,

And when the boy awoke again

His heart was full of light

As he looked for where the unicorn

Had cantered in the night.

At first he was uncertain,

Even fearful in his thought

For wherever he went looking

There the unicorn was not.

To chase it would be folly;

To lose it would be doom;

So he made himself be visible

And gave it lots of room.

He smiled while he waited

‘Til the smile hurt his face,

Then he cried and laughed alternately

And prayed aloud for grace.

The boy is waiting as we sleep,

For sleep we all must do,

Until he hears the hooves again

Come Southward, one, then two.

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When The Kisses Miss The Missus

When you refuse my kiss

I feel something’s amiss.

When you deny my peck

I think “What the heck?”

When you dodge my caress

I feel some duress.

When you deny being osculated

I feel emosculated.

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