god, i forgot what it felt like to love you freely
without denial, without repression
just plain, simple, acceptance.

last time, though free, it burned
my wings on fire
and so much for flying.

but now i love you
with an ache inside for how i somehow
miss what never was,
never—but almost. almost.

i love you from a distance,
love you from afar
with a gentle sort of pain
that i don't so much mind anymore

it's kind of comforting
soothing in its familiarity

i guess i didn't forget how it felt
to love you freely
not in this way, at least
because this?

despite occasional jealousy
and anxiety-wrought anger

this... this is new. and it's
okay. good.
like a balm on sore wounds

where before you scorched me,
now i just feel warm
and solid. whole.

certain in the knowledge
that this, undefinable as it may be,
is a love that will define me
without consuming me

and i love this love
i love you
calmly now, a little sadly
but mostly
liberally, easily

i wrote this a while ago and i just found it so i'm posting it

almost love sucks until you learn to accept it and embrace what you got to have instead of mourning what you could've had
There you are in marble
all that may be left


I thought we had more time
I knew you held on
The last thing I said to you was on the phone
doubt you even heard it

They talked about God at the service
how you're with him now
your pain is over
and you're happy
God loved you all along

Then why did he forsake you
for years of pain and torment
your own body treasonous
deteriorating from inside out
Should I thank God
or be mad he let you through it
Better minds than mine
have never figured that out

I got a tattoo of your initials on my ribs
I know you hated em
but I figured you'd make an exception
I miss you

But at least I have you in marble
the dates you came and went
and a nice little poem
of how you're safe now
It was a brief respite between summer and autumn
Where our love fell to the wayside of the far road,
the path less traveled,
and we were no strangers to the yellow wood.

We fed off the high, but serotonin depletes.
You left with my voice crack with fond bleats.

Walk out the glass, wait out the fire.
Bury me for necking on the
beckoning of
a long lost romance of mourning frustration.

Bled stone as thrown
through the walls of your frank emotion.

"Fuck you."
Alright, honey. If you say so.
And when your storm cracked our oar,
we filled to the brim
with saltspit of breeze and bubble.

Our wood rot and mildewed.
So we hanged it all up.

Chase ghosts as an albatross hangs low on the horizon.
Sea and sky meet with no seam.
Let us drift to that beauty.
(linked image goes with poem)
Kkø 6d
Burning fingertips

on the wax of candles

from birthdays

I want to wish you

and your presence

missed, dissipating.

Your memory is aging.

Waiting for you

make a wish.
Amanda 7d
Here lies the love we let pass away
I put forth my all, it was not enough for it to stay
My heart is mourning, oh how hard I tried!
Although I struggled to save it, our love still died.
It takes two to make a relationship work
Aa Harvey Apr 7
Life goes on.

When I found you sat crying, on that park bench,
With the soggy tissue pressed against your nose.
I simply said excuse me and you told me to leave you alone;
But I’m sorry I cannot, simply walk away.
You see this is such a beautiful day!

No it’s not; it’s horrible.  I’ve just lost the man that I love.
He left me for some woman he met down the pub.
Was he there a lot without you?  
Yes, I had to take care of the kids
And clean the house after work
And do a million other things.

So what did he do?  
He worked in an office.
So why could he not help you to look after the kids?
Or help with the housework?  
Or just do something?
Well he had to go to the pub, to take care of business.

Oh really?  What was her name?  
What!?  Are you trying to be funny!?
No; I was simply trying to say, look Honey,
It’s clear to see you’re better off without him;
He obviously didn’t care enough to not go out drinking.

But what will I do now?  
I can’t afford to pay a babysitter, to look after the kids,
While I go out to work;
They’ll never see me.
I only work part time so I can spend time with them.
How old are they now?  
Timmy’s 6 and Tommy is 7.

Timmy and Tommy?  That must get confusing?
Only occasionally, when they make me scream.
Oh what could they do that could make you scream?
You know what boys are like;
Causing havoc and breaking things.

Maybe that’s because they had no Father figure,
To discipline them?
Oh he did keep them in line; well, when he was around.
And what of when he wasn’t?  Did you discipline them?
I couldn’t make them cry; they’re only six and seven.

So they saw you were a push over?  Just like your Husband did?
Who the Hell are you to call me a push over!?  
You don’t even know me!
You’re quite right, I don’t know you;
But I’ve seen your type before in many a picture
And the only advice I can give to you, is to change in the future.

Look you’re better off without your Husband,
He’s a spineless jerk.
It seems to me you were the only one willing to work,
To make the marriage last,
Even though he cared more about his pint glass.
So come on with me now
And let me show you another garden path.

What do you mean?  Things can be different to this?
Of course they can my Dear; you too can live in bliss.
All you have to do is change a few things.
Then this time next year, when I see you here,
You will no longer be crying.

You’ll be watching your kids play
And you’ll have a new man at side.
You don’t know that, you’re not God;
You can’t predict the future of my life.
You see that’s where you’re wrong Dear;
I am the man you call God.
I’ve just come along to see you
And to offer you a helping hand with your lot.

Oh yeah, of course you are and I’m the Virgin Mary!
Well then Mary, shall we begin your new journey?
The first destination is the school to fetch the kids;
Then I intend to change your life
And give you the strength to live,
A happy life full of joy.  
My dear take my hand and we shall go fetch the boys.

A year later, I returned to that park
And guess what;
I was right…
Mary had healed her broken heart.

(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Tim Mansour Apr 4
How can I tell you  
that what I had is gone?

if all these consonants and vowels  
put flesh on the bones of my thought
then how do I express less  
in the substance of syllables?

Surely there can be no way but silence  
to say what you are now

No noise nor rhyme
no vowel nor diphthong,
no metre select  
no making of sense

no prose, no poem,  
not the heresy of song  
not a past imperfect  
no future, tense

I am only reminded,  
to where you are not

I can only reckon,
alone, only wonder,

that what I had is gone.
It’s been a difficult few weeks since Mum died but I do feel like I’m seeing some light. I’ve been keeping to myself quite a lot, but that’s OK.

This is the first time I’ve put pen to paper to express some of the feelings of loss and grief. I haven’t really felt able to express much til now.
Fox Rivers Mar 30
Tears leak from the statue
of an angel in the garden.
They weep for the innocence lost,
for the words cried out at night -
Forgive me father, for I have sinned!
They weep for the thoughts
ravaging a broken mind -
Tear me apart,
Crush my bones,
Break my heart,
Destroy my soul!
They weep for the darkness
that circles the home,
and seeps into the roots of the flowers.
Sinner, sinner,
goes the chant.
They weep for the church bells
that ring out each morning,
for the people who go there,
for the one who cries out -
How can you believe?
They weep as they are carried;
from the garden and into the street,
flung through the air
and smashed.
I'd rather there be nothing than for a sinner like me to burn alone.
Tears stream down his face,
and he mourns something that never was.
Sinner, sinner.
When the rain has driven away the dry
What’s left of us sticks
To the soles of sockless feet, between the toes
Where nature and the self meet

I can taste it, building plaque between my teeth
With hopeless fingers scrape it
Wait for tooth decay, part with the idea
Of a life fulfilled and the perfect day

You can’t run away from death
The harder you try,
The closer it seems you get, and then
Your knees are hitting the mud again

There’s nothing I can do, the night closes in
The doctor’s orders
Are to kiss once again, and part
You have my beauty, you have my art.
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