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#marital
I leaned into your lips That first night, a single kiss Became more, then more as You allowed a little tongue. I leaned into your hair-hidden ear, Soft words whispered Until you allowed yourself led Our first time abed. I leaned into your body Of such a promised tall fit. All those months, all those years Yet passion never found. I leaned into your shoulder In that lounge of constant shade. Again, again, said Chin Chin, Made us nightly whole with Scotch. I leaned into your craft, Helped you draft, helped deliver Of a Sunday morn your resume. Your career lay just down our street. I leaned into your pilgrimage, The thousand mile visit To desert retired parent survivors, She of polio, he of that Japanese war prison. I leaned into your little family, One ******* one puritan, two bound only by only child. I partook his love of solitude, of Anasazi ruins, Of her I took her love of wine, of stories, of parties. I leaned into your friendship, You into mine, Long after the marriage broke, Long after I stole a drunkard’s wife. I leaned into your childhood Spent with both governor’s children And “Uncle” Joe, early Helena dealer of tea, There amidst your small town happiness. I leaned into your VW Beetle, Passenger to your stories of teenage drives Up snowy hills, down the Gulch past Chinese eateries, Whorehouses, back-room cards and political deals. Until I leaned into your death, Planned your memorial with your best friend Ruth who passed me a fat, sealed package She found hidden in your home. I leaned into your final words For me never meant, Head in hands wept not just tears But yellowed strewn sheets of secrets, Letters made lily pads of pain upon The floor now deep with sorrow. I leaned into your past…..again, For one long night I read, I read, for long had You written him, long had he written you, GI and high school bride. I leaned into the toilet bowl Come morn, tried to ***** up the lies, Purge myself of purgatory. All day I tried to tear up Those written snapshots of every date, Every tux and gown from prom to wedding, The apartment rented and Joyously furnished awaiting his discharge. I leaned into Ruth’s eyes, Having said I must see you. Coffee going cold, I asked Did you know? Her surprise genuine, She said No, not at all, but Mary Anne did tell me all about the marriage Just before yours. (The other marriage of which to me she had never spoken; were there more?) I leaned into despair Having ripped crime scene tape From around your felony invention, Your carefully crafted past. I stood over the corpse of all our years, That life kicked and stomped to death In a dark back alley of my heart. Half my life I leaned into a long con. Half my life I leaned into you. Half my life You leaned away.
0
Nov 14, 2025
Nov 14, 2025 at 5:16 AM UTC
Mary Anne
I leaned into your lips That first night, a single kiss Became more, then more as You allowed a little tongue. I leaned into your hair-hidden ear, Soft words whispered Until you allowed yourself led Our first time abed. I leaned into your body Of such a promised tall fit. All those months, all those years Yet passion never found. I leaned into your shoulder In that lounge of constant shade. Again, again, said Chin Chin, Made us nightly whole with Scotch. I leaned into your craft, Helped you draft, helped deliver Of a Sunday morn your resume. Your career lay just down our street. I leaned into your pilgrimage, The thousand mile visit To desert retired parent survivors, She of polio, he of that Japanese war prison. I leaned into your little family, One ******* one puritan, two bound only by only child. I partook his love of solitude, of Anasazi ruins, Of her I took her love of wine, of stories, of parties. I leaned into your friendship, You into mine, Long after the marriage broke, Long after I stole a drunkard’s wife. I leaned into your childhood Spent with both governor’s children And “Uncle” Joe, early Helena dealer of tea, There amidst your small town happiness. I leaned into your VW Beetle, Passenger to your stories of teenage drives Up snowy hills, down the Gulch past Chinese eateries, Whorehouses, back-room cards and political deals. Until I leaned into your death, Planned your memorial with your best friend Ruth who passed me a fat, sealed package She found hidden in your home. I leaned into your final words For me never meant, Head in hands wept not just tears But yellowed strewn sheets of secrets, Letters made lily pads of pain upon The floor now deep with sorrow. I leaned into your past…..again, For one long night I read, I read, for long had You written him, long had he written you, GI and high school bride. I leaned into the toilet bowl Come morn, tried to ***** up the lies, Purge myself of purgatory. All day I tried to tear up Those written snapshots of every date, Every tux and gown from prom to wedding, The apartment rented and Joyously furnished awaiting his discharge. I leaned into Ruth’s eyes, Having said I must see you. Coffee going cold, I asked Did you know? Her surprise genuine, She said No, not at all, but Mary Anne did tell me all about the marriage Just before yours. (The other marriage of which to me she had never spoken; were there more?) I leaned into despair Having ripped crime scene tape From around your felony invention, Your carefully crafted past. I stood over the corpse of all our years, That life kicked and stomped to death In a dark back alley of my heart. Half my life I leaned into a long con. Half my life I leaned into you. Half my life You leaned away.
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85
A FOREST encircles us, 'Round our merry abode Just beyond the river Where falls the Autumn leaves Spirits sow and fret About in the treeline yonder They laugh and dance; And snicker at our petty little abode Every evening of this Autumn Has been their grandest theatre The woman with running mascara And eyes damasked in red The husband raises his voice, Like the church's choir bells He knows not what he wroughts And only the Forest may ever know
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Aug 18, 2025
Aug 18, 2025 at 10:54 PM UTC
Forest
✈️ A slap on the tarmac, crisp and clear, From Madame’s hand to France’s dear. Not war, not scandal, nor fiscal gap But history paused for a marital slap. The cameras rolled, the world took note, As dignity slipped from his tailored coat. If kings once fell to sword and plot, Now presidents blush, and say they “forgot.” 👋🏻
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May 27, 2025
May 27, 2025 at 3:53 PM UTC
A Slap Heard Around ” La République 🇫🇷 “
If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee; If ever wife was happy in a man, Compare with me ye women if you can. I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold, Or all the riches that the East doth hold. My love is such that rivers cannot quench, Nor ought but love from thee give recompense. Thy love is such I can no way repay; The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray. Then while we live, in love let's so persever, That when we live no more we may live ever. ለውዱና ተናፋቂው ባለቤቴ የሁለት አንድነት ካለ ማን እንደኛ፣ ባል በሚስት ከተፈቀረ በርግጠኝነት አንተነህ አንደኛ፡፡ በአባወራ፣ ሚስት አግኝታ ከሆነ ደስታ፣ እናንት ሴቶች ከሻታችሁ ለመሆን አንደኛ፣ተወዳደሩኛ! ለአንተ ፍቀር ቦታ የምቸረው፣ የወርቅ መአድን በእቅፉ ከያዘው  ሐብት በላይ ነው! መች ይሔ ብቻ፣ አይበቃም ሁሉም ሐብት እስከ ምስራቅ ዳርቻ፡፡ ፍቅሬን ወንዞች ጭምር የሚያረኩት አይደለም ያን ሊሞክሩም አይገባም ያን ጥም የሚቆርጠው፣ ከአንተ የፍቀር ምንጭ የሚፈሰው ነው! እንገዲህ ፍቅርህ ይሄን ይመስላል፣ ታዲያ ልከፍለው ከቶ እንዴት ይቻለኛል ?  የላይኛው ጌታ፣ ሦስት እጥፍ ይክፈልልኝ ውልታ፡! በመሬት እስከአለን፣ እንኑር  በፍቅር ተሰናኝተን፣ በሞት ድል ስንነሳ ፍቅራችን ግዘፍ አንዲነሳ፡፡
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Dec 16, 2019
Dec 16, 2019 at 9:17 AM UTC
To My Dear and Loving Husband/Anne Bradstreet - 1612-1672/Translation into Amharic By Alem Hailu G/Kristos/ ለውዱና ተናፋቂው ባለቤቴ/በአን በራንድ ስትሪት/ ትርጉም በዓለም ኃይሉ ገ/ክርሰቶሰ/
If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee; If ever wife was happy in a man, Compare with me ye women if you can. I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold, Or all the riches that the East doth hold. My love is such that rivers cannot quench, Nor ought but love from thee give recompense. Thy love is such I can no way repay; The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray. Then while we live, in love let's so persever, That when we live no more we may live ever. ለውዱና ተናፋቂው ባለቤቴ የሁለት አንድነት ካለ ማን እንደኛ፣ ባል በሚስት ከተፈቀረ በርግጠኝነት አንተነህ አንደኛ፡፡ በአባወራ፣ ሚስት አግኝታ ከሆነ ደስታ፣ እናንት ሴቶች ከሻታችሁ ለመሆን አንደኛ፣ተወዳደሩኛ! ለአንተ ፍቀር ቦታ የምቸረው፣ የወርቅ መአድን በእቅፉ ከያዘው  ሐብት በላይ ነው! መች ይሔ ብቻ፣ አይበቃም ሁሉም ሐብት እስከ ምስራቅ ዳርቻ፡፡ ፍቅሬን ወንዞች ጭምር የሚያረኩት አይደለም ያን ሊሞክሩም አይገባም ያን ጥም የሚቆርጠው፣ ከአንተ የፍቀር ምንጭ የሚፈሰው ነው! እንገዲህ ፍቅርህ ይሄን ይመስላል፣ ታዲያ ልከፍለው ከቶ እንዴት ይቻለኛል ?  የላይኛው ጌታ፣ ሦስት እጥፍ ይክፈልልኝ ውልታ፡! በመሬት እስከአለን፣ እንኑር  በፍቅር ተሰናኝተን፣ በሞት ድል ስንነሳ ፍቅራችን ግዘፍ አንዲነሳ፡፡
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44
She is as bright As the sun. He is as mysterious As the moon. Together They Are Unstoppable. (p.p) 1/17/17 12:29am
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Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
Sun&Moon
Sister who conceived was thrown outta the nunnery This disgrace fed the top feeds hence. Shunning all her exemplary works at once. But where did the well-read ladies lose reference? THE BOOK had revealed it all right there, But when history repeated itself... with just a track from heaven missing And so this mother raised a fatherless child. But in history when the father was a Carpenter. Here in time the father was a Father Who continued to raise "patriarchy" on the altar!
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Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 3:47 PM UTC
"Dis-Grace"
She was in her heavy, heavy           Auspicious reds On that cold winter's night, When he arrived in white. She stood shivering, dreaming Of domestic bliss And watching mindless films On new couches with the plastic still on them And pitter-pattering little feet. She didn't know the names Of some of the things she wanted But she wanted them anyway. All she got was barked orders Of "have tea ready by 6 am sharp," And "you missed a spot." And she is shackled Under the weight Of her oppressive reds. She is scrubbing; she is trapped; She lines her forehead every day, Right where her hair is parted, With the red of her blood And devotion. And he whispers to her In the silence of the night that's on their shoulders by now When they're at a traffic light, Waiting on the blink, "I'll send you a bill, For each day and night."
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Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 5:09 AM UTC
Soot-red.
Jackie come sit with me I have been waiting so long. Come hold hands with me Then I’ll know nothing is wrong. I will try to do better this time. Jackie please try not to be Seethingly angry and snippy; Completely ****** off at me. I know I should have thought Before I laughed loud like I did. Now I wish I had closed my mouth And had gone someplace and hid. But, can’t you see that sometimes Not laughing is quite a hurdle? Especially the way you look when You wiggle into your old girdle. I’ve told you many times before I prefer your body without one. But you insist on wearing the thing And won’t quit until you are done. So, that’s all fine and very good If I am not in the room with you. You insist on dressing in front of me And you can’t claim you never knew. Because I giggle and laugh at it Every time because it is funny And I can’t help myself, even though I know your mood won’t be sunny. Telling you I have never liked girdles Or things like those awful ***** hose Doesn’t seem to mean a thing to you So, that’s just how it all goes. Every time you put that thing on And when I laugh you get mad. And I am ashamed to admit it But it’s the best time we ever had. You wiggle and I giggle, and then You finally get it on and glare at me. It makes no sense that you insist On forgetting our marital history.
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Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 5:28 AM UTC
JACKIE'S GIRDLE
It’s about my husband Alex, He’s a truly wonderful man But I fear Alex has gone For a trip to Wonderland. He works hard, and long But lost some of his grip On reality as it really is And seems to be on a trip. Ice trays that fill themselves, Self-closing cupboard doors, And magic laundry chutes That puts clothes back in drawers Ketchup bottles with 1/10th ounce And leftovers never consumed. And of course automobiles Driven but never get tuned. In Alex’s fantasyland He lives across a chasm Where only he gets hungry Or gets to have an ****** He doesn’t answer doorbells Or incoming calls on the phone. And, when he’s watching games He is demands to be left alone. Presents given out by him In his fairy tale existence Are often gift certificates After a round of insistence. And, don’t ask my husband For the date of our anniversary Or the dates our children Showed up in the nursery. I am only mentioning all this Because I totally understand. I have read quite a few books. I have been to Disneyland. But what I don’t understand And can’t get into my head Is why he hasn’t heard me yet, Or a ****** word I have said. It isn’t like I haven’t complained Or told him what I wanted. But he looks around like maybe He thinks the house is haunted, Because he is hearing voices That he can’t quite understand. See? What did I tell you? Alex lives in Wonderland!
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Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 7:30 PM UTC
ALEX IN WONDERLAND
I used to like you when you were dumb. Then you smartened up and it pains me some. You question almost everything I say. You use these big words almost every day. You really are making my brain cells hum. You used to be **** when you talked. You had this trampy twist in the way you walked. You did everything I told you to do. Now you want to try things that are new. And at that, baby, I just have to balk. I really do prefer the way you used to be. You made sure to do things that pleased me. Dinner was always right on time, And serving leftovers was a crime. Now meals are not the way they should be. I used to be breadwinner around here. That was one thing that was totally clear. I gave you a weekly allowance to spend. None of this going out for drinks with friends, Now you have a job and sometimes you’re not here. I think the cause of this is all this reading. You think you’re getting smart is misleading. You are getting a different attitude And I think a lot of them are rude. There are some basic truths you aren’t heeding. So you should put the Bible on your list. As a matter of fact, I really do insist. It tells you I am the important one And you are just a planet to my sun. So it isn’t God’s will that you resist. Brent Kincaid 4/24/2015
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Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 10:23 PM UTC
Couple's Counseling For One