for vicki who loves this poem for the best reason ever: just does...
<•>
read a thousand love stories,
pause, rest awhile,
read ten thousand more,
and then deny equality.

If you ask for no more than you can give,
you ask for not enough

love is imbalance not an equation,
with a single solution

love has both constants and variable factors

so you write of tribulations and tributes
so you write of lamentations and liftings

you think you are on the same page
perhaps
but do we not all read at different paces?

one of you is solid, one is dotted and dashed
one of you is straight, one is bent, forever curving

when you think you are
in balance
in the same place
in syncopation

perhaps you are for a moment
a calculus of one point on a trajectory

and you say I can only ask for what I give
and am given
and no more,
you have miscalculated

this flux
flummoxed
when the old terrain is flayed flat
but thru the windshield you see the
plateau ends, the geography unknown,

when you see unknown
when you seek the unknown
when you give from places you did not know
you had to give from
when you kiss a hand
for  twenty minutes more than than the one minute you intended
when you give more than is asked
when you ask for more than you can you think you can give
the imbalance that  is the only concert
the imbalance that is the the only constant

how do I know this?

what are my credentials?

you are not a teenage girl,
what matters of what you know, recall of these matters?

I am who I am
a diversity of man and manner;
I am past prime and in decline
but this I know
for having failed ten thousand poem times
you must ask for more than one can give

but that's not fair!

silly one, still wretched confused,
even after one hundred thousand poem times

you must ask of
yourself
more than you can give
and ask no less
demand no less

a body in emotion is not a body in rest
when the imbalance is too great or insufficient

then you write a poem
look in the mirror that cannot lie
and move
on
or
move off

  begin to ask
yourself
to whom may I give myself
more than is asked.
then you have finally asked
the correct solution to the
unsolvable equation
---

Oh blind me now
To the ways of sin
So that I may hide
Myself within
Rip it out
This heart of lust
Take away
My conditional trust
Deafen my senses
To unaware
Cage my guilt
In the dungeons
Of despair

Take away all I've sown
Place a limit on my cares
But you better close the door
Because there's a draft in here
A wind of change
That longs to blow
Into your life
To fill your soul
With the words of peace
Of tolerance that's fair
Allow us to breathe
  Just a little more air...

I sketch a face
strong of bone
'tis my love
'tis my own

planes of cheek
line of jaw
insistent flesh
sinews raw

something female
in your long curls
but it's plain
that you like girls

I consider
as I mix the paint
I wish to render,
captivate

your sweet fleshtones
rich and warm
The tan quality
of arm

mixing pink
burnt umber, gold
I use brushstrokes
deft and bold

a touch of green
'round your eye's fire
black pupils swollen
with desire

chestnut hair
and eyes of blue
I have finally
captured you

won't put this painting
on my wall
'nor place it in
an attic small

I'll place it in
my heart's museum
a room where
I will always see him

he'll be near
I'll bring him hence
always in remembrance

in him life
I will embue
he is the imagery of

YOU


SoulSurvivor
(C) 4/10/2016