Tag: lost love

lost.love.letters.

lost.love.letters.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

that, so hear!
riding on the wind,
the cry of the wolf
rises up on the moonlit night
piercing all forward and all behind
crests effortlessly over my ramparts and walls
directly into my soul
directly to my heart;

for the grey that inhabits my crown
for the once saplings now laid down with leaf
for seasons past and lives have cross’t,
that pierce of hers-
the cost does haunt;

still, might I lie mostly wake
thoughts can hardly break the lure
of that call of the earthen core herself-
nor noble sword for which I held
nor conquered foe for which I thought I felled
upon my knees can not relent
spine down my soul can not repent;

for she shall always be my queen;-
in times of youth when all was the golden
eternity was upon and nothing spent
the perfection of lying together in our bed
at night, until the soft light morn
the supple fit of our perfect form,
how insidious human works did invade that space
worldly words n’ deeds the insurrection led by my disgrace;

a guise, so easy to see with hind
so easily remembered, twice fold in kind
a fool’s errand to decide by one the best for two
rather than raze the building to see again
the gleaming foundation; (abandoned dream)
a fate of two disparate streams that became a river
spilled into an endless ocean of the unity of love
dried up in a short sighted season of my famine
the destruction of a singular decision is more than a scar
heavier than an anchor of the base most stone
a crushed trachea trained under heavy breath,
like a collapsed tunnel under a grand mountain’s ground;

sometimes there is the air of escape,
from miles, from towns, in the arms of others,
but when, that call hears out, and reaches these ears
I can not bear to wonder what else, and despair.

notes… I shall never forget, I want to, I want to find that next love, but it has not materialized so far… I feel I am wired different, time and years feel like nothing to me, although not everyone is wired the same way, today could be yesterday or the day I left her, it all feels the same, regardless of time and space…

lost.love.letters.

lost.love.letters.

by David Koblentz ♥ 1 Comment

do you remember?
the other day?
yesterday? (it seems)
a decade ago? (in reality)
a lifetime ago-
how it all seems,
my love, still- still–, always-, my love, I love you, even more, now.

notes… I had a very lucid dream about her today, we went on vacation for a week or so, and we were driving back, we were in the back seat, her legs over my lap, I was rubbing her feet, looking into her eyes, and we were both so utterly satisfied, and she said “you know this was one of the best weeks of my life” and I nodded, and she said “and you know I am still not the right one for you even with this perfect time”… it was both confirmation and devastation… I can not explain how real it felt, it felt like a real test tube distillation of our whole event… I would give it all for her, but never did when it counted back then, a dumb scared kid, I can’t forgive myself, I haunt myself, time was supposed to heal, time was supposed to release me from these bonds but goddamn it it has not… I hate myself but can not hate my nature, I would give it all for her now, even now. Does that make me dumb, loyal, a fool, or who knows.. I guess death will release me from the burden, not that I am anxious to come to that regard at all… god, I miss her, even all these years later…

lost.love.letters.

lost.love.letters.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

there is nothing to compare
to what the feeling would be
to hold you-
in my arms-
right now,
my love.
and to hold you close then-
forever
and never question
anything
ever again. (oh for just the chance I would trade my soul)

notes… and yes, I would trade it all sometimes to reverse the past, to reverse the shame, the mistakes, damn I hate my memory, I see people, most people just can move on and forget, but I am wired the way I am because of the dna I was given, the brain I was given, I can not lament – or I can but what difference does it make, the struggle, damn, I don’t know what to do even if everyone looks at me like that dude who knows it all.. I know so little, feel so much, I think I know more than the average joe, but who knows? we all wind up the same, the fuel for a star or the remains… damn sometimes I hate awareness, I might rather be a cactus just hoping for rain… but that would rob me of my faculties… damn, I just don’t know.

lost.love.letters.

lost.love.letters.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“drift“

the stretching- beautiful blue sky out-
as I drive, the span over the meadowlands,
tree tops, now budding, in this spring
my mind wanders- dreams- drifts- as it should
and then inward; there is that moment of inner inspection reflection;
looking for that place
where my mind will rest
and my heart might forget, (her)
all these years-
and still-
no one compares to you, my love
for each replaced thread, so abandoned
I am reminded-
and so long,
even the fear has long since departed
the familiar denial has settled in
the submission
to the cold acceptance
with only your memory
to keep me warm
until I go. (there)

(and I pray someday to see you again-
for sometimes the hope, the dream is all I have)

sometimes I am mysterious, or arcane, or sometimes I am a merchant of simplicity… depends on the world and how my mind drifts, this was today… (I wrote this piece listening to this song, why? who knows… it was what made me think, made me muse, so I am tried to bring you to the same place, where I put the song on repeat and my mind on repeat until a mantra bubbled up to understand, so it did, profound? loud? soft? correct? righteous? nah… just me.. and maybe you, these days it is what it is, and sometimes I am OK with that even if I wish for the bliss, I realize I had a time in the sun, would I like another? yes…)

our given parcel…

our given parcel…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

one can never tell, for we all tend our own land in our own time, in our own way, a hodge-podge of native plants, mixed in with various varieties, maybe foreign by design, others we are informed to plant by the agrarian hierarchy, some thrive, for a time, some wilt, some sneak about like vines, others bear fruit, quite the menagerie when you have some age to till your acreage, a simple stroll reveals the years, the sparkling blossoms, the empty half rotten stumps, some only peak in seasons, to sleep for some time before a return for a short burst run, others are marathons, ever-green even against even the coldest sun, yes, these are the shades of my garden.
once I did walk these paths with another, some years ago, where we built our own little section together, certainly distinct, intertwined, more vibrant than just mine, but again, that was many years ago, a pathway I can not even find anymore, and the memories, well, they are all in pictures as the physical representation has disappeared into the earthen past, even to the point where I question if that was real anyway, who was that person, back then, not these same two feet I think, or would like to, so I tend to my own now, again, but I am changed like a river that meets a fork, or perhaps a dam, I would hope to be still flowing out over the open land – exploring, planting as I go, in my own way, perhaps to find another, to share, an eve, for if there is one might I find such a union again. (stream of consciousness post)

notes: so what are your thoughts? can you picture the garden you have created? beauty, beast… and all ?

lost.love.letters.

lost.love.letters.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

‘companion’
for you are, always with me, this fantasy, based on once reality, so far away now in years, still has the hold of yesterday and the warming dawn of tomorrow, but no, a phantom memory, even if I know what you would say, would you? anymore, am I the same person as we once were, together, I can not be sure, doubt is rot, but too honest to dismiss, love seems like an anchor but also a map to where… some would say where I have been, can the road past point to a future path? I don’t know, I only know the fleeting hope, what whispers in, to my ear, in dreams, waking apparitions, delusions, perhaps, if there is a difference in such things, subtle kisses of, being awake, or asleep, or alive, how can I compare to anything on the other side until such time, as, well, but for now (and seemingly always) you are my companion, the strength of that thought, that feeling, wanes and rises, yes, like a proverbial tide, sometimes mild, sometimes an overwhelming wave that pushes me under, to the darker thoughts of why, but always the gentle recede, back into that vast dichotomy, the sheer beauty of infinity, to the eye, when locked on an ocean horizon, knowing the depths conceal my centuries of wrecks in demise, and yet, also a womb, a treasure chest, a portal, perhaps salvation, the constant presence of the power of perpetual motion, back and forth, forward and back, for we are, as hearts beat, brain waves pulse with electronic sensations carried to the power lines of our extremities, and the abstract, love and revile, just as real as a stone in hand just not tangible with the same senses, we have been programmed to trust, I could clamp all those valves of input off, and still feel, feel you there, my companion, even though, I lost you so long ago, eyes closed, my arms remember, my hands recall, my heart does call, and sometimes I think you may hear me, somehow, for that was there, that bridge, that bond, that love, my companion, I will not perish as one.

this is/was a stream post, meaning I wrote it all in one gulp, one sitting, one flowing, just an idea let out of the barn, allowed to roam free until… well, until it ended of it’s own volition, or my pen, or keyboard or such… such is the way of this blog, am I totally free? maybe not, trying to get there though… to allow my expression to be a bronco, in a field, running, or not, just being…

lost.love.letters.

lost.love.letters.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

sometimes you come across unexpected things when cleaning, a forgotten article, a book, clothing… or a photo, dated on the back 10.99, a lifetime ago, but the impact is still a sinking-hole feeling inside, a sick feeling to reside, something, something I have never been able to shake, HER, the one, the one, there has been no cure, no elixir, no remedy, no replacement, at least so far, all these years, you begin to question, you wonder, wonder if you are a lost cause, or just flat out insane in some manner, but the feeling, the feeling is so raw, so guttural, ripping into your core that I can not ignore, am I just a broken person of the heart? the worst part, of course, is I blame myself for most of what happened, the separation, retrospect, of course is an easy road, but does that mean it is incorrect? I suppose, I feel (or am) broken, knowing that all of us are, somewhat, to lesser or more degrees, but knowing that does not soothe the driven cold spike I feel on moments like these, I don’t think I will ever truly be healed even if I pray to be, and I argue with myself, looking around at the world, do I even deserve a reprieve, when I can not even begin to forgive myself.. 10.99… October of 1999 – I wish to an inch of my death I could hold you close again, just once more, to feel your heartbeat and your warmth as we are one, just once more, as the reality of that memory is so faded now – those immediate memories, just the empty chasm of regret and pain… I wish I had a higher IQ of the heart, back then… I miss you, still, if you only knew, if you could only know, how sorry I am, how much, I am forever to dwell, in your love, and how much I will always love you, wrapped within myself now… within myself until the end of times, where I hope to see you, for that is all that keeps me alive…

notes… this was stream of consciousness, the photographic record of us is not large, I doubt she even has one of me, I can count only a handful, but the time we spent, two stars of different galaxies aligned somehow… there has never been anyone else but her, I have tried, replacements, forgetfulness, time… no, none of it was worked, but I am still alive, so there is always hope, even as my years fade into time, at least I had that time, and I would walk there gladly again, even in delusion, even in dementia, or anything, the pain of separation is the poison that dims the light of my soul.

lost.love.letters.

lost.love.letters.

by David Koblentz ♥ 1 Comment
Photo by Mo on Pexels.com

;there are times when I look outward, reveal inward, and I lose my way, my hope, as my dreams both nourish me and deceive me, and my words – they come – so I write;

counting down
the days of the sun
counting down
the days, to our reunion
counting down
until there are none
because
in my heart
I know – this,
will never happen

lost.love.letters.

lost.love.letters.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

how I miss you,
the taste of your lips –
my, my only love, for you are, this (thought)

sometimes I wake
trembled in the corner
I made myself
where none
had yet to exist

I have painted my own portrait
determined, my own fate
my inner demons
the mask, now is my face

years,
and I am still here
staring,
looking out at the world
sometimes I dance along
most times I walk alone
and so-

I can not escape, this box
not by will or by smarts
just the end, determined by none
if only
I could really know, someone-
inside through and inside out
like I do, this house

gathering storm clouds come
the wood floor planks speak with age
my hands shake, with anticipation
or perhaps, just age again
so here I am
locked in this made hollowed cage,
sometimes,
sometimes my mind escapes
a hand turns the knob of the door
up into the sky, from the earth
into the stars, then I go
eternal, as light from fusion flows forth;
may I burn, like our sun
and provide that warm feeling, once more
on a child’s cheek
or provide the power to raise
the truly weak-
or fall,
to split a glimmer, of a tear
and may I find glory in the unfold
transform into all the colors as rhymes are told-
for a moment

but so returns the astral dreamer
back locked into,
into my cold dark corner;
hope is stoked by both sides in this
dreams may be the epitome- of murder

notes… I wrote this from the cuff, all tonight, raw, maybe could be more polished… I went over it maybe three times… but it makes sense to me, if it does for you, please comment, I am curious if my thoughts make sense to anyone, I post to make my art public, and my inner life public, because we are all alive right now, we owe it to each other as artists… maybe that sounds like bullshit or lofty, sure, but we are alive right now, together, for we truly are… and one day, one day too soon, we will all go away, my friends, we will all go away… why do we not live every minute of every day as such… we are caught up in the game… because, we are human… and I wonder how to express that and share that… with you…