There sits an empty dresser drawer
once full but now it's not.
Everything that I love
has up and left that spot.
To see it now you sure would think
it's empty as can be.
And to you that might be true
but not so much for me.
It used to house my sons clothes
and treasures he would keep.
Like gems, coins, hot wheel cars,
and toys that whirl and beep.
But now he lives off with his dad
declaring that it's awesome.
While I sit here staring at
my empty drawer coffin.
Tempting me to climb on in
until my tears do cease.
Laying down in all it's not
May I rest in peace.

I’m moving through rooms,
Restless and roving
Searching for something
That I know I won’t find.
Not under the sofa,
Or under the rug.
Not in the vacuum,
Or tucked in the folds
Of my wife’s throw
In subdued forest green.
It remains unseen.

It’s not in her vanity
Or the basket wear our clothes
Would wind together like lovers;
Sweat-soaked and bitter-sweet.
It’s not in the cupboard with the dog’s treats
Maybe it fell from a kitchen drawer
To lie with the spiders
Hidden in the floor.
It’s not in our great wide bed
Where our sheets lay flat and wrinkle-free,
Future dust-sheets all.
Let’s face it, it’s not in the hall.

It’s not in the garden we planted
Or the shed we built.
It’s definitely not in the garage
Where she never went,
Not even for a minute,
Which I thought heaven-sent.
It’s not on the porch
Or the patio bench,
Where we spent many an evening
Trying to learn French.
It’s not in the car,
That’s my one you see.

Hers is not there...

The thing that I’ve lost
I won’t find today,
Tomorrow,
Next week or in June.
She may as well be on the moon.

We've heard a lot about true love
Seen it in countless movies
Read about it in countless books
But does it really exist?
Well, I'd like to think that it does
You see, I'm speaking from experience
When I first fell in love
I felt like a bird
That had just sprouted wings
And was ready to take off
And experience the sheer joy and excitement
That comes naturally with flying
Especially if it's the first time
I felt like every single day
Was something to look forward to
And I managed to derive some interest
Even out of the most boring lectures
You see, I was doing my MBA then
Anyway, cutting to the chase
It ultimately turned out to be a case of unrequited love
But, as they say
It was totally worth it
My second tryst with love, though
Wasn't quite the same
Arranged marriage, love *** arranged marriage
You can call it whatever you like
But it doesn't change the fact
That it was never going to end well
To put it plainly
We were incompatible
And the eventual divorce
Was a blessing in disguise
I thus learnt the hard way
That it is not enough to be in love
And that is absolutely essential
To have things in common
The more, the better
So, coming back to true love
Does it really exist?
Well, my answer will remain 'Yes'
After all, I'm a hopeless romantic
And I'm not about to give up
Just because of one bad experience
I also believe
That it's a question of when, not if
And I happened to learn
Through a Facebook post
One out of countless posts that I've seen off late
That you shouldn't worry about finding the right woman
Just focus on being the right man

Thirty two years and counting
I haven't found true love yet
And I am not considering unrequited love
I've been there twice
The first occasion was during my MBA
To cut a long story short
I simply couldn't pluck up the courage
To tell her how I felt
When I eventually managed to do it
It turned out to be a case of locking the stable
After the horse had well and truly bolted
The second occasion was an arranged marriage
Where the engagement brought us closer to each other
Or at least, I thought so
But the issue was, the girl didn't
And the pandemic pulled us apart
Metaphorically as well as physically
Thus, that didn't end well either
Now that I am single again
Thanks to this amazing human invention called "divorce"
The hunt for true love continues
Before we proceed further, though
Let me get this off my chest
I am a work in progress, not a finished product
And I have my flaws
But then, we all know the saying
Nobody is perfect
Everybody has some flaw or the other
In fact, it is these flaws
That separates us human beings from robots
Which are equally intelligent as we are, if not more
But I am going off-track
The point is, I need someone who loves me as I am
Of course, it works both ways
If I love someone with all my heart
I would do anything for her
I mean, anything that comes within the definition of "ethical"
And I wouldn't want her to change one bit
I mean, as far as her character is concerned
Now that we are all on the same page
It is time for me
To resume the hunt for true love
Of course, we all may have our expectations
But I ask for only two things
Unwavering loyalty and trust
And accepting me as as I am
With all my flaws
And when I do fall in love
I hope and pray
That it is reciprocated, for a change

jaeger.
chasseur.
foxtail.
seduction of fascism in mind,
like tumbling autumn leaves
ever and always
on the steps of a country house.
always and ever
just outside the aix-les-bains dance hall.
his blousy new bride
and her old lover
aware of his sympathies and
  the danger he presents to them.

jaeger.
chasseur.
foxtail.
seduction of fascism in mind,
ever and always
on a deserted alpine road.
always and ever
one trail of blood,
remnant of the preyed upon.
she screams against the glass,
quiet devil in the backseat
haunted by the disorder
  of his own mind.

eyes opened to
his own mutability.
alienation is immanent,
bred in the bone.
a desperate need for gravitas,
built upon vaporous credulity.
and she is pursued through the woods
ever and always,
through iridescent fields
always and ever,
until finally in his crosshairs
  she falls.

those like him have not suddenly
vanished from the earth, but
  are merely lying in wait.

I have been yearning for true love
For years and years
For decades and decades
I have seen it in movies
I have read it in books
But to experience it in real life
Is a different feeling altogether
Of course, when you have lived
For as long as thirty two years
It is utterly impossible
Not to fall in love
At least once, or maybe even twice
And I am not even counting crushes
They are as ephemeral
As the life of a mayfly is
The love bug has bitten me twice
However, on both occasions
The love has been more lop-sided
Than the recent Men's Ashes
On the first occasion
I was slower than a snail
By the time I finally confessed my feelings
The girl was already engaged
On the second occasion
It was an arranged marriage
After two initial meetings
Followed by two months
Full of frequent phone calls
We had a rather simple engagement
Since then, it was apparent
That the going was smooth
Even if it was a long-distance relationship
However, just before the wedding
The pandemic chose to strike
The marriage had to be postponed
By five frigging months
Consequently, things were never the same again
Mind you, I was very much in love
But, as I mentioned earlier
It was a long-distance relationship
And I could sense
That slowly, but surely
The girl was beginning to fade away
And the marriage, when it eventually happened
Was an absolute trainwreck
Now, a year and a half later
I am single again
And the quest for true love continues
This time, I hope and pray
That when I do fall in love again
It will be duly reciprocated
And will be as long-lasting
As the love
That my family has for me

I hope that our few remaining friends
Give up on trying to save us
I hope we come up with a failsafe plot
To ******* the dumb few that forgave us
I hope the fences we mended
Fall down beneath their own weight
And I hope we hang on past the last exit
I hope it's already too late
And I hope the junkyard a few blocks from here
Someday burns down
And I hope the rising black smoke carries me far away
And I never come back to this town
Again in my life
I hope I lie
And tell everyone you were a good wife
And I hope you die
I hope we both die

I hope I cut myself shaving tomorrow
I hope it bleeds all day long
Our friends say it's darkest before the sun rises
We're pretty sure they're all wrong
I hope it stays dark forever
I hope the worst isn't over
And I hope you blink before I do
Yeah I hope I never get sober
And I hope when you think of me years down the line
You can't find one good thing to say
And I'd hope that if I found the strength to walk out
You'd stay the hell out of my way
I am drowning
There is no sign of land
You are coming down with me
Hand in unlovable hand
And I hope you die
I hope we both die

Ah, the fallacy
in talk of tree limbs
and fragments of the broken-apart.

                     Those scars opened a rare window
                     below the cloud tops
                     and into her room,
                     where a new dress of fallen leaves
                     hung in her wardrobe,
                     fleshing out her understanding
                     of how that blemish
                     lingered long enough for
                     her own intentions,
                     hidden behind the frown,
                     to surface.

The myth in her eyes
wishing they could say,
"Might we share this fall together?"