Selfish

I painted a girl into my life.
An integral piece of the canvas stretching before me.

Her image, it bled from my skin as did many things in my life.
I loved her as anyone might love something they create.

She was lovely.
She brightened and enlivened this "work" of my life;
Her laugh throwing out new vibrant hues,
Life's colors radiating from her as she danced within my painting.

I stood, enriched through experiencing my work,
and put my hand to the glass covering my painting.

Punch Life in the Face!

Scene 1:

"A high percentage of couples that give their child up for adoption end up separating"  He says.

"No," I say
"We have a deeper and different kind of Love;"
"We have a deeper and different kind of Bond."

He seems to believe me.


Scene 2:

She's off playing summer sports with her new boyfriend.

Manic

This manic of mine

This vacuum cleaner of a libido

This electric mind,
      zapping to any girl of possibility

This heart crying
and stretching out one arm between my ribs

This power switch
           One side off,
           One side desperate and crazy

Pervert

I used to walk along this cobblestone path, 

                            

                            among the varied beautiful flowers,

                                                              and pick them;

Pluck them from the Earth's embrace

              caress their pedals;

              take in their full scent,

Fully experience and appreciate their beauty.

Now, standing on this perilous path,

Were I to pluck some, the world would rise against me;

Were I to admire some I would be shunned.

I cringe at a future,

   padding along this path,

        staring at my shoes.

Anger (A piece made of two poems)

My Faithful Wife

I left her at the door with a hug and a kiss;
My silhouetted wife in the doorway shrinking as I left.

"I will wait for you." was my bulwark,
Her love my closest friend.

As I fought my war,
our letters shot back and forth,
Fortifying our bond against the cold distance;

And always inherent in her letters,
"I will wait for you." and the continued affirmation of her love for me.

Her love was always there, giving me the strength and courage to do the difficult.

My angel,
My friend,
My wife.


My Lost Love

A great war ahead of me,
And she knew she couldn't stay.

The day I had to ship out,
She wished well and walked away.

Immersed in the trials of war,
I look often to the horizon.

Longing for the girl I love,
For strength and courage with these trials and

A home to give this weary heart,
When finally through with this war;

But the only answer the empty offers is:

"She's gone"
"No Love"
"Nevermore"

Rhythms

Rhythms unite my being;

The pulse of my blood,
The sway of my breath.

They unite us,
our "thing" we have;

Like the heartbeat of our bodies we have our daily rhythm;
our meals, our partings,
day after day.

Our routine activities together the breath of this body of two.