Her…

Her…

affection afterglow backlit blur
Photo by luizclas on Pexels.com

Ah, the lonely poet contemplating the one… yes, that one.   Something that seems unattainable from the outside looking back.  Yet… the old adage of better to have loved and lost becomes a friend.. or a mantra, or a lie we tell ourselves.  I do not know if I will (or can) have anything that pure again.. the circumstance of youth and confluence of events seem like a tale that I made up in my head.. but yet, can I trust in age and experience (perhaps a little help from the universe).  I am searching.


 

book dedication” 4/7/18

to my one love

she is more than light

to see the way

more than breath

that fills my lungs

she is the gravity

that holds me

to everything

 

I will love you until the stars fade black.


dmk honest Note:  I imagined I was commissioned to do a book of my poems… and I would want this to be the dedication as she is my inspiration even if I am no longer hers.


Thoughts: On Franklin Lakes Reservoir” 4/7/18

lakes have a different voice

even when played by wind

not quite the lion’s roar

a bit more than a kitten’s purr

 

four quad geese patrol the known expanse

not quite an ocean

yet at once foreign and vast

the town, the road

off the far shore

all seem calmer from the distance

under the rhythmic song

of waves

one before after another

(2)

so here, sick with solitude

within everything ever created

before and past

waiting for you, ever for you


4/7/18

you were there

as our sun rise

ascending into the sky

and only those below

could worship and bask

in our glow, bathing bright light

 

our course crashed

like an eclipse slow burn

deepest shadow cast

in no light time has no thought

no life

unfurls in this night

 

now I look for you in this twilight

searching for you before my final night

yet I know right where you are

and you could not be much further

from my arms

beyond my reach

and my heart

the sun has set

as it will

helpless, helpless

ever still.


4/13/18

inside your love is still resident

at times like a cozy blanket

in the grip of my winter

or a bed of nails

as a pointed reminder

 

as I have tried to block and suppress

to forget

why does it plague me

so long now after I’ve left

moments years of regret

beg, I beg to forget

cycles of sun rises and sun sets

never leaving my soul to rest


musical machination for the moment…. “It’s Love” by King’s X

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s