Drums in the distance we ran to the beat,
Outside Maternity a Sikh throng,
Clapping loudly, dancing and song.
We soon join in - unexpected spectacle this and full of joy!
"Its a boy, it's a boy, it's a boy!"
the spark in your eyes
snatched my breath away
addicted to your smile
cause it takes my pain
wish this moment'd last
but yet i know
there is now way
to talk to you
so let me say:
remain the same
We found a cosy enough scene amongst the chaos,
Two strangers connecting among a crowd
like anxious magnets in a scrapyard
And it felt
A first encounter with a lifetime lover from some other dimension;
my self in a sense, caught to the reflection of an opposite ***.
We were the 'quiet ones' in our own regard
Prone to panic attacks and sudden unruly suggestion of madness and lengthy times of introvert
And although there was a lifesworth we never knew
There was enough of an understanding to
Make conversation. I mostly listened,
Lost in your voice. I don't think I'd ever gotten on with
Someone so quick
There are some beautiful people in the world that do that:
By the end of a conversation you're ready to hold them
A million years
The second conversation came later in the night,
Listening to the flowery clock locked to her chest
her mouth stirring cockerel shells and laughing honey teeth
liltly blind; oceanblue irises circumference marble black
pupils, puffy cheeks and half moon lips
curled and split in a caring smirk;
it seems impossible
to imagine being you and not thinking myself beautiful
Yet you say that's the case,
And like my expression was open to telepathy
She said the very same thing back to me and we both thought
I love you
but neither could say it.
There probably wasnt enough similarities to make up
For the differences.
And he told me
He saw me there
In the room on the bed
And we played pillow fights
And wrapped ourselves in blankets
Rolling around pretending to be worms
And then you exited the room
And then I wondered
How detailed you relayed that encounter
That was more than ten years ago
And I wondered
What your thoughts were
How you saw me
At that moment
And I wondered
How you felt
Remembering those details
Of the memory of our first encounter
How you remembered it
If there wasn't something there
The deer is close by,
she breathes and looks, motionless –
I really feel seen.
"Dat het dier je zag" ("That the animal saw you", 2019, Marjoleine de Vos)
Your voice changed my mood like a chameleon. Flooding my mind in deep nostalgia, I am surrounded by reminders of what pleasures we partook, we indulged, we unapologetically did, we confidently said and we therapeutically wanted. We ravaged, we begged, we, were, human.
Your scent still leaves a trace that even a bloodhound could find. Roses vanilla and a hint of cinnamon; my tongue tingles from the pleasure of closing my eyes, reanimating the masterpiece that went down at your unguarded borders.
But, I kept it cool when you introduced your new boyfriend.
'Hello this is__'
I replied 'What's up, the names Kitarō'
But as I spoke, I could tell we were harmoniously in sync when he called out your name twice; no response escaped your lips.
The third time triggered your body to respond; when your crimson lips were finally free from it's white prison it was photographically known of what was unsaid on your beautiful luscious red painted canvas
I knew you wanted me.
In the dark of night
I have seen a wild sight
That made some say
“That’s not really right!”
When visitors go walking
Through walls an such
Reality is far out of touch,
And good common sense
No longer means that much.
A logical person, that is me,
With no love for surreality,
Instead an intense inner drive
For a world of abject sanity.
Until, to my upset and surprise,
A kind of person, before my eyes
Appeared to spiritually enchant me.
Surely a ghost and not a disguise.
On a pleasing evening walk
I spent a while in chatty talk.
The fellow so handsome
I could find no way to balk.
He told me an interesting tale;
A wandering life of freedom and jail
And meeting other vagabonds
Riches and fame both no avail.
We shared about the weather
We talked for hours together
I noticed his suit was three pieces
Wool plaid instead of leather.
I am sure I was quite obvious,
He couldn’t have stayed oblivious
Of the way I was wanting him
My face gave away my wishes.
He said he had to go quite soon
And my heart, a burst balloon
Also showed on my sad face.
Smiling, he pointed to the moon.
From his lapel he took a shiny pin
And fixed to to my collar and then
Smiling, he kissed me warmly
Which set my head into a spin.
Then, his colors began to glimmer,
The ancient clothing started to shimmer
And my lovely suitor began to fade.
My passion for him soon left to simmer.
Because like a camera trick he was gone
And I was left on my own to move on
And face the facts that I was looking at air,
Just me and a memory on the city lawn.
I questioned myself and my sanity too.
What else could any sane person do
When faced with such a visible mystery?
How could any of this have been true?
I looked down to my collar and there
Was that pin this ghost had pinned where
I could not deny his existence was real.
So, perhaps you see why I had to share.
I looked up the sky,
hearing your voice as if it was my sweet lullaby.
Reminiscing the days we've spent,
imagining what it could have been.
Our sweetest "I love you's",
turned to such bitter "I hate you's".
I could have stayed if you want me to,
But as long as you refuse to understand me, this will not work between us two.
The lesson I learned is not fearing to love again,
but rather that some people are worth letting go despite the pain.
Moving on is the hardest thing yet the most wisest thing to do.
At night I close my eyes to see beauty,
and then in the morning I open them.
This is the essence of being awake—
to open your eyes to live your dreams, or
live without them because you don’t need them.
All the world’s beauty to appreciate
includes the beauty worth dreaming about,
and beauty about which I dared not dream.
There is beauty in darkness and in light—
who am I not to fall in love with it?
I’ve dreamt of beauty I could not describe,
but nor can I describe beauty I’ve seen.
To encounter beauty is irony—
it stops my heart and makes me feel alive,
touched and moved by ethereality.
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
Buy “Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life” at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
Hold my hands when we walk beside the river
Make me happy and make my life shiver
Say that i'm more than just your mother's figure
And love me the way the bee loves the flower
Wake up every morning thinking about our future
Think of something that could last our love forever
That even the darkness wouldn't try to endure
Cause this love we have for each other has more power