I love,

the desperation
as if wandering lost on a mountain.

I love the solitude
and the loneliness of being
compelled to love.

i love the desperation.

the wolf hidden in my wild heart
howling at a streetlight

and the sorrow of distant echoes in my head
and the laughter coming from an empty bed.
the mountain ledge whistling in the mist.
the pierce of thorn from the rose
clutched tightly in my fist.


some never feel more alive
as love fades into the silence
of sweet lies and blue skies.

just never show the fear that's in your eyes.
never shed a tear for the rose refused.

Her hair’s dark, curled up in mystery.
Her heart — as pure as a kid’s.
Her smile: ineffable.
Her skin shines, even at night.

Her presence lifts the bluest rooms.
Her laughs echo, even in vacuum.
Her thoughts — like snow.
Her lips the perfect shade of pink.

Her kindness softens the hardest hearts.
Her fashion: glamorous.
Her eyes: amber.
Her voice — one of angels.

Her hugs are filled with warmth.
Her perfume, made of jasmines.
Her shadows — flowers bloom.
Her touch: exciting.
Her name? Unique.

She inhales hate, exhales love.
She is amazing, auspicious, addictive.
She is my food, my air, my reason to exist.
She doesn't know these.

She stands there laughing with her friends,
While I fantasise about her, as I read my books

I tracked the way to the station she gets off at,
I couldn't track a way to her heart

I thought love was like the colourful trees, the tall buildings.
That the metro passes through,
I forgot the slums and the tunnels.

Fate made us stand together once, time paused, the worry about my meetings lost,
I just stood there, in awe, looking at her, lost in her eyes.

Eventually, I learned that the girl in the metro had a guy,
And now comes my station forcing me to step out of the metro.

I have been bitten too many times, now I am immune to your poison,
To leave and never come back, now I have all the reason.

Few words, few looks we exchanged
An unloved soul mistook them for love that never existed.

Fake promises and flattering words my eyes did observe,
But to a lonely man in a lethal world, it felt as love.

Every flower in a tree doesn't give a fruit,
And our love was never meant to bloom.

To escape solitude and for longing love,
I traveled this far now I go back with memories filled with scars.

For a love that only existed in my mind,
To escape these illusions, true love I shall try to find.

Just like the night sky slowly turns into a brighter day,
In my life, it turned into a darker night and stayed like that forever.

To live a life in silence or
To live a life with scars,
I don’t know either I chose-joy is something I will never know.

I am not The Last Spring Overture
My birth name was Spring, not Greig
And I am not the last of us
Although I soon may sadly be.
I gave my violin away
To someone who abused it
And died with it still in its case
And unavailable to me.
I loaned my autoharp to one
Who never gave it back to me.
My mandolin was somehow stolen
Off my wall during a party.
Years have brought me dolorosa
For the music I’ve not made
On instruments I never learned to play,
The voice that wouldn’t do my will.
My mind can play that Overture
And does it almost once a week
So maybe what I said was wrong
I am The Last Spring Overture
ljm

The air is luminous,
the pines fullof poems
and evening gentle presence
piled with gold clouds.

Full moon’s lofty face is
swept with fluttering wings
and enigmatic depths of
a mysteious smile.

A mirage of change, choked
by gentle mist – the joy of
wandering across a wild sky
as dark bounds forth softly.

Summer evenings beginning
inch by inch, their long-eyed
beauty chafes the heart with
the sudden laughter of light.

Here is radience that does not
withhold itself but pours abundance
without selection – no flinching
disguise – only the gold-blue
glow wanting nothing but the
happiness of being.

It’s not talked about in Hollywood
Certainly not among the pretty people
I’m referring to when an actor actress in bodies a role so well you generally don’t recognize them

I’m referring to their acting being so convincing that you see only the character unfolding,
even if it was only for a minute before it clicked
I’m not talking about minimal physical transformation, not heavy, prosthetics or CGI for example which would obviously disguise a person.

When an actor immerses themselves in a character
They are taking away their character completely
In doing so they’ find myself in a paradox
When does acting end and their character begin

They train all their life to be a believable character
To personify little idiosyncrasies to define depth
Part of this training is believing you are
who you say you are

At gatherings and parties they try
to be themselves But who is that?
They’re celebrated for other characters
they became, does that character remain
Are there attributes that glam onto
their psyche soul that won’t let go.

They become more unsure of the real world and their part in it. People accuse them of acting.
A pugnacious member takes issue argument, transpire the actor in a quagmire
Fight or flight what characteristics to prevail

Is it any wonder why a significant number of actors actresses, run to psychologists or psychiatrists for years of therapy or psychotherapy?.Major decisions rehashed for other’s opinion what should I do?

Think of the movies where an actor changed himself so much for a character that
you did not recognize him. if only for a minute.
I could name a few.

Keith Ledger as The Joker( his last role)
Fellow Actors said he was so scary.
They couldn’t even say their lines.
The darkness that came out of him

There are others, but these readily come to mine

Heath Ledger in Batman
Dustin Hoffman in Rain man
Billy Bob Thornton in Sling Blade
Matthew McConaughey in, The Buyers Club

Christian Bale in Machinist
Jake Gyllenhaal and Brokeback Mountain
Sylvester Stallone in Rocky

People’s burning desires come to California
To become a star, follow their dream they’ll go far
Life is not what it seems broke, sleep in the car
Are you willing to sell your soul to become a star?

Can you survive The Harvey Weinstein‘
Movie Mogul  type the casting couch slouch
Roofie, **** drug without  consent
or The music scene P Diddy type Hell bent

I encourage you to watch some of these movies where the actors are so far above the rest


Inspired songs
1) Vogue live MTV awards YouTube1990
By Madonna
2) American woman
The Guess Who 1970
3) mama told me not to come
By Three Dog Night
4) The long and windingRoad 1970
By the Beatles
5) evil way
By Santana


BLT Webster’s word of the day challenge
April 15, 2025 pugnacious
Someone described as pugnacious shows a readiness or desire to fight or argue