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Paul Gilhooley May 2016
Is there in existence unconditional love?
Where two hearts fit like hand in glove?
Is it possible to give away so much trust?
To see it fail, blown away in the dust?
Is there a love, so impassioned and wild?
I believe that it's true, but only parent and child!*


© Cinco Espiritus Creation
2016
I've often been criticised for saying I do not believe it is possible for two adults to love unconditionally, as to give away so much trust to another is almost inviting hurt.  I am lucky enough to have received unconditional love in my life, but only from my children, never from a partner.
If I ever were to describe myself, I would be despondent.
Never happy when alone.
When with others, I would be absorbed into their feelings.
But really, my feelings couldn't be faced.

If I ever could depict my past, The painting would be bland.
A lone grey figure struck against a white wall.
The child without love nor maternal instinct.
Paying for survival with absolute compliance.

If I ever told you what I was thinking right now, I'd be lying.
Surrounded by a thousand paper target in a warehouse.
Suffering through your interrogation.
And you dare call it conversation.

I remember shouting at myself.
Decreeing my own hell.
Whispering in that sullen terrifying voice.
"You are the epitome of nothing, unable to love or be loved."

In truth, I was loved.
I was loved and cared for.
My love, was conditional, it was always paid for.
And for that payment I will never love back.

If I ever wrote you a poem, disregard it.
My words are better off in the sea.
Closing the book on my heart.
You, who loved me.
I, who needed you.
The question on how you treat your peers. Is how you use them. But how you treat you love is more difficult, whether you see them as tools or as people.
Pierson Pflieger May 2014
We rock together in the chair-
your morning tempest nestled into the crook of my arm.
I wait patiently for the edge of your storm
for clouds and cries to ease away and my coffee to cool.

What do you think about in the quiet calm?
Do you think? Or do you simply feel?
Comfortable and complete, I wonder about you
and the person you will be.

What do you see
when you stare
at the wall, the window,
the side of my face?

Colors, shapes, shadows, light- captivate you.
I enjoy watching you try to figure it all out.
Everything new,
nearly too much to take in.

Slowly- the sights, warmth, and motion
overwhelm you.
Your eyes close-
although you fight it.

We breathe together.
I hold you close,
lost in the wonder of your face-
so familiar and strange.
SamBee May 2016
Red and blue have been blasting through my door
roaring and romping a mighty chorus
stomping through my days
both dying to feel me up
I feel hardy when they love
but they are not mine to keep.

They come to me as scarves and scales
as patches to post over my bodies
and lay
muddy and weak
myself to be seen.
These colors flash secrets of superficiality
savor the feeling of severed psyche
with puzzlingly pieced anatomy.

Blue boiling with my boyhood
my mind over smooth shoulders swells.
I stand beside my dad - his sharp eyes teach me
the game of absorption and receiving.

His eyes trap a moment
hold it up by its collar
(look dad, no hands!)
shake loose
collecting hidden tokens
fiddling,
flipping them in his fingers
a trophy of bladed knowledge.

But my father is color blind.
He does not know which threads to cut
when I plead
*help me detangle
Lauren R May 2016
I. The prettiest thing I've ever done was hold someone while they cried. This was the most beautiful I've ever looked. She shook like a rabbit, watching cars whir by on the roadside.

II. I've fallen in love with strangers. I've fallen in love with familiar faces, and then fell out of love when I realized they were still strangers.

III. I had a dream my father hated me. I woke up, and I couldn't look at him in the eyes during dinner.

IV. I watched a deer cross the road today, her head hung low in the thick morning mist. I called her Daisy, and Daisy ran into the graph paper patterned trees of the forest. She disappeared as the fog closed in, dashing into the blank scene in front of me, the painted canvas of her back running across the page like a blur of everything I love about living.
A collection of short poems
Àŧùl Apr 2016
Don't make the mistake,
Of ditching a lover who's so caring,
Almost your parent-like.
My HP Poem #1059
©Atul Kaushal
Oratile Maroro Apr 2016
Yo Momma,
She got mad for I tried being perfect for you.
The truth, the life I've always dreamed about, that's what I wanted for you.

You have my full support.
Choosing a dream to follow is your decision,
Telling you if its wrong or right!
Now that's my mission.

I wouldn't want you to be what I wanted to be.
But choose something to keep you busy like a Bee,
Just follow the heart and leave everything to Thee.
'cause God never left, nor forsaken me.
I love my Child with all my heart
Snizzlefish Apr 2016
You say you don't know what to do, what to say.
Your heart is too heavy, so it starts to pray.

He refuses to listen.
Your heart aches & your eyes glisten.
This man you call father,
Now can't be bothered.

You wish to speak.
But you are tired and he is weak.
You wish to be heard.
But his memory is foggy & his prospective has blurred.

You need answers to hard questions, such as: "You've hurt me & you don't know your family... Do you even care?"
But you're greeted by silence & a confused stare.
He then mumbles how "You've got it all wrong..."
He says you're ill-informed & goes on & on.

He is the father & you are the child,
Your claim is invalid & you remain unreconciled.
The long winded lecture then turns into some maintenance "project."
It always ends this way in retrospect.

You come back home.
And collapse into the couch with a groan.
Defeated, you speak quietly through your hands.
I wait patiently for you to start so I can understand.

"...I hope Your father never becomes like him--a man who strives to hold onto nothing but ego & wealth at the expense of his family. I hope that's something you never have to see."

He looks so deflated.
His heart is heavily weighted.
I suddenly notice he's got more laugh lines around his eyes, and how we have the same chin.
People often tell me we share the same grin.

His silent doubts & unanswered questions leave him falling apart.
My hero who always fixed my "ouchies" now sits with a bruised & heavy heart.
Because his dad never said "I love you" enough.
And I don't know what to say, because mine never stopped.
For all the kids who were left wondering, who turn into parents. People give & receive love differently, your child may not be fluent in how you choose to express it. Don't leave any doubt, words don't need translating. Tell them every day, until they get so sick of hearing it they just say "I know." I grew up knowing, I didn't realize how profound that was until I was older surrounded by broken adults who never knew.
Helen Mar 2016
We set a paper ship
upon the waters
in hope it will never know a storm
we have bared of our past
In hopes that maybe to gather
they could fair better than us
as clear skies graced our thought
now storm clouds loom heavy.
It's never as we planned
but never our fault.

Those paper ships slip
from between our fingertips
before we are ready to set sail
We watch them bob
upon traitorous waters
standing upon stormy land
and know only,
when they are lost at sea
that our casting off
has failed

Under moonlit nobility gets beyond our controls and storms
we seldom grasp, the ships sink faster than the images we have lives since painted within our thoughts.
It all comes full circle in the end

Full circle begins
when weeping upon a midnight beach
waiting for the debris to float in
To sit upon the sand
and not understand
how paper boats can't float
without sails
We set them out upon stormy seas
Hoping them fine and fair weather
only to see them smashed upon the shore
with no guidance from above
just a single feather
Buried deeply in their chest
a single hope
they could fly
now they lay broken
upon a distant shore
dying under a whisper
of... *I tried
The opening lines are by John Patrick Robbins aka Gonzo. The most amazing supportive friend I will ever have!  They were the perfect lines for me to open myself up as a parent to the fact that we can fail as a parent to not only to losing our children to death but also to losing our children to a living death. His name IS Darcy :)
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