I never liked my name very much until I tasted it on your tongue.

Perhaps I peered too closely into the abysmal potholes of other people’s souls
of whom I had no business pilfering through in the first place.
Now I ponder about feelings and memories that do not belong to me
some of which are long forgotten, disregarded, or even irrelevant.
Of this information that I have unearthed and processed, I know not what to do with it.
I am perpetually preoccupied with what lies beneath the surface point, which is what pushes me forward, yet could propel me to my downfall.
I just sit here and anxiously ponder this arcane information I acquiesced
through means not noble to my standard of normal morals.
There is nothing else to do.
For I rest here in the realm of reality.
This is no novel of fiction for me to figure out.
I can’t flip through the pages of people’s plights.
Something like that does not fall within my rights.
I am a mere meddling mortal amongst other mortals.
I am no god who sits proudly upon their plethora of others’ secrets.

I am just another human being.

The cold grey of a January morn,
reflecting my spirit so utterly forlorn.
Was it pain I felt when I watched you leave,
or a chance for freedom and some small reprieve.

Only  Silence remained, as you closed the door,
heard your footsteps fade, like the waves on the shore.
Love never lingered, nor heard my plea,
it could only tear asunder,  in its bid to be free.

Now time owns my soul but you have moved on,
You embrace this new stranger and say he’s the one,
and if ere I wish the clock hands would turn,
to those flames of desire, where our passions did burn.

Now all I claim is this house full of tears,
with its memories and dust marking the years,
and my spirit remains forever bereft ,
of those things that you stole on the day that you left.

© H V Swan

Love most have died centuries ago
She died with Juliet and Romeo
Now her bones lay dust infested
Romeo's to the left
Juliet's to the right.
Wishing they discussed,
Try to figure out how it all turned sour.

If love is dead,
Who or what are we then?
Excavators, that's who we are
Digging furiously, who cares how far
The grave of the duo love birds must be near
Find it, find love at its undiluted sphere.

Enveloped in this fantasies box
Love becomes no more than a hoax
Love is what it is
A beautiful broken bike if you please
Its too dangerous to ride
Yet no choice but the ride
So if you must, put on your safety gear.

Love does not live inside TVs
Nor magazines
She has left the internet and movies
She now lives in the simplicity of you and I.

You may have looked too hard
Yet you still can't find.
This you must figure out
You are looking in the wrong sites.

The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of Heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single,
All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle—
Why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high Heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea—
What are all these kissings worth
If thou kiss not me?