Te adoro
the way you adore me.

Sweep me off my feet
even though it's quite the feat -
to convince me
with sweet sentiments
have me reeling, writhing -
with both pleasure and acceptance.
You say it's effortless, easy -
for me.. I'm speechless.

I've seen lust in a man's eyes
far too many times
but you - you look at me like I'm gold treasure.
Not left bemused, but you call me your muse.

Not
spun around tactlessly,
plucked indelicately,
abused, subdued, misused.
Abandon all hope.

Sometimes I think,
I don't know how to speak, feel or write about love anymore.
Familiarity with the fear - but you allow me to feel.

Te adoro.

My mind: inundated,
infiltrated with booming thoughts and desires.
Multiplying in one huge devastating explosion.

One after another.
Feeling your desire from a higher
energy that is pulsating through my veins,
making its way into my very being.

I crave you intensely,
immensely, mind numbingly so.
But the weeds begin to sprout,
My garden of anxiety and doubt.

I know you have your own garden to tend.

I can feel you too,
Inside of me, my mind that is.
Eyeing your beautiful,
arbitrary haphazard thoughts.
Stream of consciousness.

Connecting the dots
to tell the conclusion, there's been no
Illusion. Of my mind. Only assumption.

Not to have any confusion,
with how I feel for you
and what I think about.

Now back to assumption.
It's an evil thing.

Have the gumption
To do something about it.

All thoughts were not made equal.

These thoughts consume me,
Like the moon, swallowed up by clouds -
I think of nothing else.

It is the greatest deceit when we compel ourselves,
us pretenders, we smile;
start forgetting it's all an act
we've mastered the art of distraction.

Attraction

Eyes lock, souls intertwine, worship like a shrine.

Bubbling, effervescent youth - flirtation to finality.

Eagerness to cultivate, move to the next occasion.


Repulsion

Slow demise, one could only surmise - it's time to let go.

But peculiarities, they become extraordinary.

Take you as you are.


Endurance

Long-lasting, soul enhancing.

Moments like these, quintessence of eternal.

Utterances of love are immortal.


Acceptance

Unwavering faith and trust, passionate conviction.

Any cacophony of doubt, silenced.

Take me in, fully.


Synergy**

Two brilliant bright lights intertwine.

Illumination.

Status is divine.

Him: I will gaze into the deep blue

Drowning in the infinite passion

of your oceanic eyes

Swallow me whole mistress of my dreams


Her: Waves rolling, sending me reeling,

unraveling, no inhibition, just desire for you


Him: Desire drives my heartbeat

Her: Sunlit, synthesize make us complete

Him: Closely resonating thumps

Her: Shivers and jumps

Him: Breaths taken together

Her: You hold me tethered

Him: Alignment of the soul

Her: I take control

Him: I bring myself into you

Her: Long overdue

Him: Clasp

Her: Gasp

Him: Arms around an arched back

Her: Loosing track

Him: I hold you down

Her: Drown

Him: I hold you close

Fear consumes,
but mind alludes
To you -- statuesque repose,
my heart swells in happiness.

What constitutes as fear?
An unpleasant feeling.
Our body tells us to react:

Chest tightens in expectation,
resist the urge to jump out of my skin.
Not wanting to resist the urge to jump onto yours...
be close to you in your warmth,
the sweet serenading cadences of your voice,
tracing, outlining, making me vocalize,
like a full harmonizing choir.



You are worthy, so worth it.
Unconventional, not intentional...
finding you, compassionate soul.
You make me brave, undismayed --
swayed by your gentle tenderness.

Fear consumes,
but what is fear when your mere presence brings me peace.
Chest loosens in tranquility, our heartbeats synchronized.
Once wary, now calm.

Fear is flat,
you taught me that.
An unobserved, irrational self-created entity.

Fervently fearless with you.

Finding value in material wealth...
when the only wealth you needed was my abundance of love,
baked in warm buttery homemade cookies,
rose petals shedding all over the kitchen table, one by one, your fragrance lingers as I struggle to catch my breath,
you struggling to say you love me, but you show me instead through deeds you did,
letters you sent,
food you prepared for us,
wine and liquor that you poured down my willing throat.
I'm struggling to breathe and I almost feel you.
Forbidden to touch you, but I know that feeling...
as if all too well, your fragrance lingers.
Miles and miles between,
I can hear the warm fireplace crackle, see the salty-snow covered ground,
your melodic carefree laughter turns to a beleaguered hungry stare, fixating on your prey...
You only feast when you feel like it.

Placing the bandaid
on top of the next.
Placating my irrational thoughts,
but all so fleeting.

I'm happy. Then...
the wounds peak through,
I know these outside influences
whether drugs or relationships won't hold up
in the ultimate goal -
the real happiness quantifier.

That happiness
Beautiful soulful careless laughter
Give me that happiness.
Sing and dance,
but not at the expense of my lungs and kidneys.

Talk about something you know
For you.
Intrinsically fascinating,
Not fabricating lies based on ideas
for Others to like you.

Stop pleasing others for their expense.
Please yourself through ridding
Yourself of dense
Self pitying thoughts and
Push-over tendencies
Rejection fearing
and Stop baring these heavy suicidal thoughts.

Learn
To appreciate your worth,
You have a gift of
Kindness, intelligence, mindfulness.
I love myself
Or at least I'm learning to
and the healthy way.
By myself.
And I won't ask your opinion, is that okay?
Yeah I'm still learning.

Seven years ago, I knew you.

Present day, now I don't.

Gaps in time.

Never retrievable, unbelievable

nearly how much passes by.  


But here we are, so transfixed again.

Seven years later, and yet,

it doesn't seem to matter.

Feelings rise back like the sun rises in the east.

Simple, yet meaningful chatter.


We met in our youth,

whimsically and pure.

Two young souls, we lust;

in a splendidly serendipitous summer.


We met again without intention,

without mention of something greater: fate.

Memories of you wash over me, your name resurfaces.

Hypnotized by the pull, you reach out for me.


We truly met in adulthood,

filled with newfound awareness.

Two souls, we fell in love;

laughing about silly arbitrary things

like swiss miss hot chocolate,

bonobos, salad dressing and coated spinach. (I want whip)

Sharing stories of our crazy college days;

Together, getting caught with our clothes off,

to watching love birds in a courting ritual.

Recalling conversations - "what about a mastodon?"

through intense concentration.

Walking along the unsalted deep blue,

I wish we could have stood there forever,

side by side, hand in hand...


We couldn't of course, not pragmatic;

the bitter cold became problematic.

Gusts of frustrating winds, a hail of bullets.

Misty eyes and whirlwind romance.


I reached back too far, arched and overextended.

Agreements altered and amended.

Haunting words of imperfection,

and collection of unretrievable memories.


We met in our youth,

whimsically and pure.

Two souls, we lust;

Seven years, I'll see you later.

That house on Halstead,
with its rod-iron rusted gate,
that creaks eerily and groans when pushed aside,
looks abandoned.

Sparse lemons splayed the patches of dead earth where nothing grows, while ants playfully dance on their yellow-grey skins.

Your 1980s Kawasaki vibrating beneath us,
I'm holding you tightly as we rock back and forth on your driveway.
And we are heading nowhere. I know this, but I don't care.

I gaze at you in the circular side view mirror,
donning bed head, and your dusty clothes that moments before lingered on your bedroom floor. Arms still grasping you.
But right now, you don't see me. You never really did.
I catch a glimpse of myself, sullen lustful eyes and wild raven tresses.

You tore me apart piece by piece, my ego bruised like the dried out lemon husks we sometimes would pick up and squeeze juice from for our tea.

Where does inspiration come from?
A bubble waiting to burst,
thirsting for a host,
making the most of this splendor,
turning one thought into many...
creating something worth sharing.
Do we allow these thoughts to come to us only when we're ready?
What if they never come?
It's been a dry spell.
When will it rain again?
Again,
Again,
Again...
Is it a crime to be this happy?
Something is bound to go wrong.
Where does inspiration come from?
Despair.
It's been a dry spell.
Somewhere deep inside I want a storm.
Is it a crime to be this happy?
The self-indulgent reckoner in my mind,
give me chaos.  
You want the perfect dream...
But you could never possibly imagine,
or believe that everyday is already the perfect dream.
Give me chaos over a happy ending,
again, again, again...

Convoluted and contrived,

derived from the smallest transgression;

you believe you became my possession.


This is hard to bare, this mark...

a drama in which virtues and vices embark.

A senseless obsession,

propelled by

accepting divine presence to: "give all to love, obey thy heart."


Projecting bad relationships onto me, instead you leave:

leaving me faceless in your mind, without identity.

With your fabricated fears of the possibilities of infidelity,

widening the already literal gap - no empathy.

A single text to end it all - sufficed in your mind.

Possessions sometimes get thrown out without explanation.

It feels like history is repeating itself.


When words with meaning fall short of what I mean to say,

it's like the delivery of expression is caught between two chasms far apart.

Like two separate languages, two foreign tongues.


*These chasms are too great, too far apart.

I've shown passion by
an exhibition of raw emotions -- silk screen tapestries
bleeding, overlapping into conflicting patterns,
the inconsistencies seen as flaws.

I've given love through
disagreements, pain, serenity,
vehement disdain.

You showed me passion by
courageously fighting everyday,
making the chaos united
displaying one single masterpiece.

You gave me love through
beautifully woven-words coupled with your soulful eyes.

I'll show you passion by
enjoying your zest for life,
as you talk with perfect strangers --
forming connections,
creating laughter wherever you go,
your wisdom will show.

I'll willingly give you all my love, as you have loved me

You ask me why I don't write as much nowadays,
but have you read my last two poems about you?

You give me a love that's different.
"You say it's effortless, easy - for me I'm speechless."  

I've told you before,
we're conditioned -
To love the way we're taught to.
How we've fought,
for love in the past
and how we continue to.

We are conditioned.
By our first love, and every single love after that.

I don't mean to place the blame on anyone else, but...

the words we have to communicate sometimes fall short...

the fights make you think you love more...
more feelings involved.

Doing everything necessary in your power,
protecting my feelings,
fixing the situation the best you know how.
You've been giving.

These fights are selfish.
I'm sorry.