Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 21
summer to summer
year to year
moment upon moment, I remember you
unveiling the open secrets of your heart
like leaves upon a tree
cascading upon me
in the fall
I read you
your tongue wrote my sorrows
my pains you kissed with pleasures untold
within your realms of beauty
I basked
and I forgot myself
forgot the aches of time and temper
how hot the summers had become
how dry they became with no lover to bear
but you
you were more than lover to me

pure... inspiration

a forbidden flower, nested
'pon yonder peak, in meadow's midst
treacherous though the journey
in my mind, the ease was paltry
for we met on bridges between us
in visions of grandeur
visions beyond vision
where your flesh was as my flesh
for when I caressed myself, I felt you
your hand was my hand
and your words were my night song
and your grace was my quilt
in the terror of being alone
you covered my nakedness
my fear of a life lived alone, dying alone
you wed me with wonders of

what if

and I paced at the doorstep of desire
bouquet of dreams in hand
before me, as though a fencer
but no walls between myself and thine
and though my thorns may *****
and my beauty be that of a man
a woman's touch I'd unsheath in greeting you
to profess knowing you as you
so deliciously
know yourself
to touch you as if you wert my teacher
and tame you as a man tempers his heart,
should he dare
trust a woman with his soul
and yet

these are naught but fancies,
my dear

naught but frightful desires
unkempt
off the shelf of the gorge between us

still

were I more than I am
I would guard these artful mementos
of heartfelt wanting
as a promise to you
despite your
forlorn embrace

and in the moment of meeting
we would speak these words together
because you'd always have known my thoughts
how could you not,
since you are
the woman
of my dreams...
I always a step behind putting anything into action, in this time of my life.
I'm always feeling, or rather, knowing that I am inadequate.

And the only comfort I have of late is to have no quarrel with that fact.
To not fight being less than capable.

As I've experienced, in wanting love, I always and welcomed, but have never been kept. I've always been ill-equipped.

We men can complain about not having enough money, the right haircut and fashion sense, the right "rizz" (it's a dictionary word now, good God, we are poor in spirit!), the right height, the perfect car, the perfect home to host our counterparts, the right cologne, the right timing, the right smile, the right sensitive, but meaning, touch...

And yet, in my estimation, more than not being Mr. Right, I've experienced not being who 'I' want to, and need to, be. I've searched within myself, in the times when I was lucky enough to meet a woman who would share more than conversation with me, that without my own heart being truly open to letting go of all my doubts, my struggles, my stubbornness, and my ever-present temptations for 'more', I believe I would have more than settled by now.

And, of course, I've seen that same heart not only fail in love, but in the grand scheme of life. I've seen myself crushed by the weight of mere existential questions, let alone true, nightmarish challenges in human affairs.

So, this poem was, in essence, a demonstration of how simple desire can be, but how complex the mission to close that gap between desire and true love is.

I've often been ireful with the phrase:
"All is fair in love and war."

Yet, if there's one matter that I can assert is integral to love, as it is to war, it is that one cannot love unprepared. One must be READY to love. Just the same that if one must war, one cannot war unprepared.

I can imagine that the greatest trick an enemy could pull upon a person is to introduce one to one's soul mate either too early, or at the word time in one's life, despite the prepared circumstances and dispositions.

Given the way life can lead us around and away from that which is meant for us, one could spend another decade looking for love before coming across one's soul mate again in, hopefully, fairer climes.

With all that said, I pray you all have what it takes to work for love beyond what I've been capable of.

I see myself as not being all that interested because, despite my wishes, I am behind far too much work in life to afford being interested in by degrees of genuine effort that can even begin to match my interests.

As always,
enjoy!



DEW
Darren Edsel Wilson
Written by
Darren Edsel Wilson  33/M/Philadelphia
(33/M/Philadelphia)   
299
   guy scutellaro
Please log in to view and add comments on poems