Her Target

My ex used to laugh
At my walk
Saying I wobbled
As much side-to-side
As straight.

She said I was so un-cool
I set a new standard.

She said it was impossible
To love me
Because I loved myself so much.

I remained motionless
Allowing her to use me
As target for her scorn.

She was a haunted woman
Pursued by wanton ghosts
Down labyrinthine ways.

I knew she would exhaust herself
Eventually.

And so she did.

The un-doing of those I once loved
Brings no pleasure
No portion of glory.

It is tragic
Watching the implosion
Of one who once held my heart.

And, she was right.
I do walk funny.
I am un-cool.
And I love myself.

If I don’t who will?

Ink Stain

Rubbing only smears it.
Dabbing is ineffective.
The more I try to eradicate it
The more obvious it becomes.

There is no soap so powerful
No bleach
No combination of chemicals
Effective in restoration
And I now sorrow
At the damage done.

It has bled into the fabric
And I fear my garment
Is ruined.

How could I have been so
Careless?
So without caution?

If only I could have a
“Do Over”
The way we did
When we were children.
Then I would take more care
Not have behaved so
Recklessly.

But now I must wear this badge
Of rash action.

Had I not let you
Touch me
I would be better
In appearance.

But I let you in
You marred me
Stained me
And I must evermore
Show evidence
Of a blemished heart

Your ink stain.

The Hush

Silence attends me
Walks at my side
A veil of wispy peace
A cove of solitude
In a riotous land.

Extinguish the racket of traffic
Cacophony of conversation
And blare of discordant clamor.

Cut free
The din
Of city sound.
Step into the tranquil.

Silence is not a condition
It is a habitation
A residence
An abode
Of the serene.

Disconnect.
Close your ears.
Let silence lift you.

Like the wind
That sifts grasslands
Like rains
That pepper the surf
Let silence prevail
Cover you in calm
And renew your soul.

Shelter yourself in quiet.

A Wild Garden

She is a wild garden
A blend of the carefully tended
And untamed
A fusion of nature.

In morning’s glow
She will share
Your tea
Discuss poetry and song
A demure creature
A fawn in the glade.

When darkness veils her
She will take your flesh
As a consuming fire
Combusting
And you cannot
Extinguish the blaze.

Her eyes gleam in innocence
And smolder in sensuality.
Her fingers caress in dewy calm
And rake in fiery insistence.
Her body glides in swan-like elegance
And undulates in passion.

She walks in grace
In easy communion with nature
But dances like a gypsy
Throwing shadows
And incantations
The way flint throws sparks.

She is a wild garden
A mixture of holy, gentle charm
And feral want.

She is a wild garden.

A Bitter Truth

Had she dreamed of kingdoms
I would have conquered
Realms.

Nothing would I have withheld.

Diamonds
Pressed from fiery coals
Riches
From the coffer of kings
Luster
From spangling stars.

For her I would rob
Roses
Of their scent
Night
Of its moon glow
Wine
Of its blush.

For her I would separate
The chill from winter
The lush from spring
The sweat from summer
The tint from autumn.

I gave her
The beat of my heart
Gleam of my eyes
Softness of my touch.

But she taught me a bitter truth.

Love is not about
What one might give
As much as it is about
What two might share.

And two cannot share
When one cannot give.