"ideality" poems
If you had to describe the night time through the senses, what would you say?...
Night. A bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon on the table. A cigarette with a shadow of lipstick still highlights a little spot in the empty room. An act of passionate synergy just happened here, just now.
A woman is lying next to a man. The man starts slipping into the vague slumber. He did his part, and started dreaming about his first love, then the second, and afterwards just about another woman who was not a ****** but a “Madame Bovary”... not a fire but an atomic bomb.
She is naked from the waist down. Even darkness of this room seems to like her smooth, young and perfect legs. Her skin is painted into the twilight colors and occasionally gleaming lights of passing by cars, the only intruders here. Eyes closed, lips shut, a silent mask on her face says that is somewhere else now, as well. She has a slight breeze of dissatisfaction, melted by sweet atmosphere of the good wine. “But the *** was not as good as the wine; today’s *** was rather like a Siberian ***** **** butcher…” she thought.
She smiled, as a note once dedicated to her by a guy, whose name she forgot, came up in her sleepy mind:
“It is totally impossible to describe. Furthermore, describing you is an offensive act that sets boundaries to your unlimited perfection. I gaze at you as though you are my best and the one perfect equilibrium for any moment of my tiny life. You could have been my best decision and “perpetuum mobile” for the whole life, where is no sorrow and solitude, but ideality. As sun flares, your true beauty starts and ends in you. I am lost in your magnetic fields. From the moment I saw you, my existence disappeared. In the places where you appear, everything loses its meaning, each string is exhilarated to build a special and an ideal reality around you and for you. And I am a part of this new universal heaven where there is no need to breath or think, but only to see you dancing…”
On the last hissing sound the cigarette burnt out. Good boys win.
Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 8:26 PM UTC
Naaah.
While aesthetically pleasing, those idealized taut-loined bodies don't really do it for me.
Curves and creases, his imperfections and mine together.
Marks of experience, passion, loss, and learning.
The fragility of skin that is speckled and less elastic
No less loved
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 1:16 PM UTC
He brought out the worst in me
Cruel actions and words his weapons
Ones he kept well oiled for use
Every syllable spoken in perfection
Hitting the bullseye of my patience
Bursting out a fury I long kept hidden
With a marksmen’s skills he teased out
Anger overcrowding my being like rain clouds
Bringing heavy showers of unrealistic vows
A wild gust of cruel decisions sweeping sanity away
He welcomed this flood with manic laughter
He brought out the worst in me
But
I still loved his soul
Though how cruel and selfish it truly was
Blinded by ancient kind actions
I skipped over the puddles of each storm
Hopping towards our reconciliation island
Hoping always for the sun to break out
Foolishly falling for the momentary calm
Putting the rest the rage and reality
Losing my fingers in the cords of us
Reattaching the damaged strings of trust
Dreaming of an ideality…..Us
But the truth broke in easily
In the finality of us
All that remained was nothing
An infinite of emptiness to run away from
Before it’s long tentacles pulled me in
Grief slithering into my heart
Taking full control of a shattered soul
A breathing living body
Now turned into a shell of nothingness
With sharp fingers I cut out the dead
Letting the ****** mess taint me
Until I let go with a sigh
Dusting away my disappointment
I got up
And walked away
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 3:57 PM UTC
For our love is a tragedy.
Left me clinging unto memories
Drenched in the ideality
Of my self proclaimed idiocy
For I've only followed what I've believe was true
Set me wandering across the blue
Hard for me to believe what we shared was a lie
Made me never wanna believe again.
For those days we've thought was well spent
Didn't made much bearing in the end
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 12:03 AM UTC
He brought out the best in me
Demanded it every waking second
An impossible standard to wake up to
Bringing out new parts of me
New strengths to get acquainted to
Everyday was an evolution
A painful breaking of old cocoons
Striving towards an invisible ideality
His pedestal of perfection
Dreaming of my delicate wings
Drawn to match his idea
Hoping to be worthy
He brought out the best in me
But
I was not enough
Never could have met his dreams
How could i have?
Those expectations weren't mine to meet
He dreamt them for another
A stronger maiden who he cherished
One I could never battle
Nor cut away from the musical chords of his heart
A choking reality crashing in
Too fast it raced up to me
Destroying my strength with a lazy flick
In the finality of us
A black emptiness took over
Wrapping me in its warmth
Blinding my mind with crippling grief
As it took me away
Leaving me in a new reality
One where us meant nothing
Not a speck of past left behind
Dusting away my disappointment
I got up
And walked away
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 1:01 PM UTC
Empty homes lined up like clones
On the main road of a Levittown.
Copy-pasted lives and identical drives
Like one town-wide pass me down.
The sun is blazing, children playing;
There's no heat on the asphalt.
The clouds don't move though the people do
But it still seems like time stopped.
The world forgot the town, the city's down
Some two hundred miles to the northeast.
There are no schools, no jobs or rules;
Torn straight from a storybook sheet.
Love and hate together cooperate
Or better yet don't even exist here.
There are no guns, no wealth or slums
And they've never known the concept of fear.
This town is a utopia, a could have, a would of
This town is a maybe, if we'd only tried.
It's pseudo-reality, optimistic ideality
All woven together and kept fresh with lies.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 8:36 PM UTC
We were just ruled by wishful thinking
Idealizing our lives, believing in our dreams
I wonder how much of that we’ll get to fulfill
You said even if our dreams remained as they are
At least we could define our perfect futures
And I believed you
Not because of sensibility,
But because of trust
And we both know that supersedes everything else
All the more made possible with the stark promise of reality
For me, that’s more than enough
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 6:09 AM UTC
Ideality.
It has many synonyms.
The best one's "boredom".
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 5:43 PM UTC