claiming to possess a “non existent” flick which “supposedly” documents “an affair that never was”,  you lit that strike anywhere match.

soon, all of rome was burning🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

darling grace, did you stop for a moment to wonder how a meandering earthly river could physically touch the infallible sky?  

things swing from unconditional love to bitter hate.  anger, angst and heartache replace joy, banter and sizzling moments of wanton love making.

at a distance, i see the setting orange sun behind the arches of the golden gate.


the space between us
no bridge can ever connect ~~
as memories fade


© 2021

I’m not sure that I know what jealousy feels like.

I’ve heard tales of it.

Of green cheeks and envious eyes and pounding hearts.

And while my heart beats in my chest like a snare drum,
I don’t believe that it’s out of envy.

I’ve little care for your other loves
Or other bodies.
For all that matters to me
Is when your head
Is on my chest.

I don’t believe I’ve felt jealousy.

Fear,

On the other hand,

Is a strong possibility.

Selfishness only breeds jealousy
is a phrase I have repeated
hundreds,
perhaps,
thousands
of times.

It is like medicine.
In a bout of melancholy,
I simply must repeat this phrase
a few dozen times,
and I am okay,
in fact,
maybe I am better than okay.

When exactly shall I learn
that I do not need to be a part of
anything?
I can do an act purely for the sake of the act itself.
There is no need for self gratification.
Surely, there are others who have
lived selflessly before.
Then what is my excuse?

Under my breath,
I mutter once again,
Selfishness only breeds jealousy,
ahh...
It doesn't really help, does it?

My lungs breathed in disdain
Whem you mentioned her name
And that's when I knew
I had to stay away from you

Once more, I rewrite
a line of poetry
from one of the great poets
as one would meticulously retrace
the outlines of an image.

The placement of each period,
the choice of a particular word,
if one of these were amiss,
it would be all for naught,
but my!
How each word, each line
supports the other,
what beauty!

Ha!

What beauty indeed!
The more I know,
the more it burns
like celluloid!
Fuelling anguish in my heart!
And oh dear!
What a jealous heart I have!
Surely, others must feel the same.
Is it so hard to discern beauty?
Can we not read?
Yet why is it so elusive to recreate something
even a fraction as eloquent?
Do we not spectate the same Earth?
Such mockery!
To recognize such and be unable to recapitulate it!
All things of significance
have already been written.
All else is imitation!
And how much more it aches to know
that I am a cheap one at that!

At least just once in my life,
could I not write just one line
equal to this?
I do not ask for much.
Just one line!
Then I could proudly brandish
whatever mediocrity I amount to,
like a brand burnt into my flesh.