When I am with you I feel more the lady

Some may say what we have is not right.
Some may say that our union begets blight.
Some may say from this no love can form.
Some may say that the very act is knowingly deformed.

But they are not present to witness your grandeur.
Nor can they perceive the bountiful buoyancy of your captivating lure.
You are magnanimous in your dutiful simplicity.
You are honest and bold beyond belief, devoid of duplicity.

You are dominant in your beneficence,
And truly lacking in bombastic pretence.
With your marrow you delicately bombard me with your divinity.
Controlling the warmth of a previous state of frigidity.

You impart brazenly durable and thoughtful reassurances.
Putting a start to the exploration of a deity blessed with nuances.
I can feel no wrong with you banishing my discretion.
What we’ve had is beyond the limits of true expression.

To know you, to truly know what you are demonstrates belief.
In a greater plan that can atone bringing deserved relief.
I have never felt this pureness doggedly bursting from my depths.
For with you I could feel ad infinitum, and nothing less.

Once a dear boy, you are now a keener man.
Allowing a once girl to discover benevolence by your sacred hands.

The Lighthouse Lover

The salty air of an open sea,
Is vast and magnificent,
The coming of dusk brings utmost glee,
For the woman awaiting the taste of her lover’s scent.

She goes alone, swift with a lover’s zeal,
She anticipates each moment, each wondrous feel,
Of his masterful hands,
Carefully exploring forbidden lands.

And the lighthouse stands with kind intent,
Her lover beckons at last, with love so salient.
And as they emerge winding stairs,
There haste is interrupted only by caressing stares.

And as a door is thrust open,
He descends on knees with effortless adept.
Bringing her thereafter, open,
He descends ardently in her swollen depth.

The movement lingering and divine with grace,
Is made urgent with ravenous kisses, and a rapturous pace.
And the crescendo is jubilantly intense.
The lovers fall unabashedly into its ecstatic eminence.

And as a door is thrust open,
It is the lover’s beholden.
A deathly struggle begins,
Her lover is vanquished, the light dims.

Killed now by a husband’s rage,
She will no longer the scent of her lover taste,
She descends the great height of the lighthouse with haste,
No longer subject to the scorn of a brutal hate.

And the lighthouse stands with kind intent,
Her lover beckons at last, with love so salient.

The Essence of Waves

I watch the motion of agitated waters keenly,
The brash, crashing of water, torments the shore meekly.
And from the pier, I am infused in its sheer dominance,
Few words describe entirely its latent importance.

As it washes over the ruination of a battered dock,
I become a part of it, perfectly still, motionless rock.
I can feel the cleansing of its explicit force.
I feel somehow repaired as it stays on its euphoric course.

And the tides become your artful hands,
Ravishing my body, permeating each delicate strand.
Now, the saltiness of the sea, transforms into your disarming scent.
And this, our bodies, triumphantly transcend.

Climatically, new waters burst forth, as it purifies a place once dismal.
I am taken away in its warmth, submerged in this my baptismal.

And now the waves recede,
How phenomenal they are,
I now make my retreat.
Into a world afar.

Ode to My Child

Precious babe you are when you lay sleeping,
Eyes closed, far from this world, in new lands, dreaming.

And then you emerge without fail at the hour of five in the AM,
And though I slumber, you will drag me out of bed, I have no choice then.
On days when I am too tired to awake on your command,
You slap me in the face, you cry, you demand.

And once you have got what you desire you leave me be for a few.
How precious the minutes are when I am without you.
Until I am ready to do what must be done,
You attack, you plague me, and the wicked hours have begun.

I am at the mercy of the flying bottle, the flying shoe.
The tantrums, the destruction, the sh’ ups, oh lord the flying shoe.

And the infliction does not end until the very end of night,
When to bed you go promptly two hours past nine.

Precious babe you are when you lay sleeping,
Eyes closed far from this world, in new lands, dreaming.

We Need Not Speak

You speak to me without even knowing. I hear you even when your lips have not moved; I can feel you even when the distance is greater than two people should have to bear. Nothing you do, escapes me when you are at arms length, you sing to me, with each movement, with each breath; taking up a glass of water to drink, fumbling in your pocket for keys, rubbing your eyes when you are weary, scratching yourself when you have an itch and even when you have not moved at all, nonchalantly staring into space, you still speak, you still sing. Your eyes could burn deep pockets into my being they are so invasive, so commanding, that when they are open, I dear not speak for fear I may interrupt all that they must say. You hold the world’s truth in all things that you do. You are palpably unaware but I notice these things I appreciate what you have shown. And I cannot pretend that I understand all that you have said, all that is left to be known, I merely see and hear, without the ability to fully grasp the concept, to fully understand the depth that is you.

What Do I Know of You?

What do I know of you?

What do I know of myself?

What do I know of anything?

I know that I am not altogether happy, not all together sad.

I know that I am waiting and hoping that something will bring forth my consummate empowerment.

I know that I am in a kind of limbo, apathetic to everything that surrounds me that bombards me daily.

I know that I have been melancholic and yet animated in my appearance.

I know that I have but one passion and yet it constantly eludes me and is kept safely at bay.

I know that I grow weary of having no real direction, no real vigour to do what must be done.

I know that I have to be strong, yet I am still very weak and it frightens me.

I know that my complacency has made me hollow.

I know that I have lost and have settled in my defeat.

I know that I have always been afraid and yet have not identified the source of my fear.

I know that I am ailing from a malady for which there is no true remedy, and it is a love made incurable by hands divine.

I know that though I try to find myself I am still stranded at the crossroads, anchored to you.

I know that you will possibly never see the light in me and yet I can see all the good in you.

I know that you may not have cared for me then and still even now, just by the very deeds of your actions.

I know that you may not think of me as I often think of you.

And yet in all the abysmal realities of my life I have not suffered so far because of this belief I have kept.

The creed I have vested upon myself that will always stand firm even in my darkest hour.

A creed to know that everything is how it must be and that ours, though at a glance, lacks the virtues of compassion is substantial in its depths and heated in its core.

And I am happy to have met you even though you will never hear these words escape my mouth.

And if it is my faith to die loveless know that I have kept ours safe, where no one else could touch it, where someday you may find, it has always been waiting, carefully sealed in the centre of my soul.

For You

I thought I moved on. I sincerely believed I did and could. But somehow you still linger and yet I cannot find a reason why it is so; for we shared so little, almost nothing. But you managed to graze my memories, some how deepening the wound that you so capriciously left. The truth is I cannot say that it is love nor can I deny that it is because I don’t know what it truly was and still is. And I have no bitterness towards you for I cannot hate you, in some strange way I declare that my feelings are unconditional and have aged to become less impassioned and more lucid in their purity. There are no utterances for me to declare, nothing that could describe all that you have come to signify, all that you have come to be.

Yet, despite your liaison with darkness I still see in you the light that I have always felt to be there and so you remain to me that fragile creature marred by circumstance and lack of good judgement. You do not know who you are, enveloped in the catacomb self inflicted by the very virtue of your nature. Perhaps, you may learn the truth of who you are when you are freed from your chamber just as likely as you are to be forever in darkness. And I see the sadness in your eyes, I can see the shadow lurking over you that has brought with it the burden of guilt. And I wish I could help you, set you free and salve your pain but I cannot.

However, I do not wish to be with you, there is nothing that could bring us to that path, it has been stricken from our destinies and therefore from mine own desires. And I do not know what you see when you look upon my face or dwell in the centre of my eyes but I do know that I can see your battered soul and the torment that you must now face. Perhaps, my view exaggerates your position, perhaps you are merry and want nothing more from life; so then I will want those things for you. And if you receive clarity or should we cross paths once more in another life maybe we will discover our fears and inner turmoil have far less potency than that which is ours.

Now, I await patiently the news of your betrothal; the end of your dreams and to an extent mine; for you were and are mine in fantasy alone. And if you escape I pray you will not once again make, that blunder; finding instead, that which will fulfil you.

I will remember you always and never forget this, this inexplicable force that motivates an unknown facet of myself. For everything happens when it should, we both become victims of an uncontrollable world; two that can only integrate with a larger scheme. I do not pretend that you care that I have written this, that I feel whatever this may be called, but for one minute I will pretend you do. And so in placing you in a conundrum of ambivalent words and phrases I have sealed and yet resolved all I have known of you, all that I have felt for you, all that you have come to symbolize in me.