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"shatterings" poems
What right did I have to reach into her dimension, Take and kiss her hand—pull it halfway through Then let it fall limp between the panes? By rights, she beckoned me from the end of a hall of mirrors called memory The shards of which I tried to replace as best I could After many shatterings. Still, my world being real, my responsibility for circumstance held sway Versus her whole ephemeral portmanteau called jealous rage I nearly tripped over where it lay, backing out of that dark tunnel. Looking back I only know the love I felt like rain on empty drums called desire. When her mate and mine…mate, we can then work to make the pieces fit From what remains, and I imagine happiness Will reign in one world or another.
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Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 12:24 AM UTC
The Mirror of Her Desire
Taken from me, my will or these shatterings, Pieces of every sensible answer, what helped me through these insanities, Pride I thought I had in this glass box of mine Which makes it funny how when I let it slip through my fingers love of myself was all I could find
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Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC
But You Know, I Tried
Traveling on rocks when I came and saw you standing still in this theory of time where space and the minute hand collide in the explosive impact of a lovers long and dead embrace that envelops all of the planets existence in this single instance. and then I realized that this collision Was in the best interest of the sole proprietor of my heart's real estate on which houses were built to hold the familiar smells, touches, and tastes of your sweet touch, and yet this time I have found that you have forsaken this heart beating landscape with your fruitful lies and promising truths. For the rest of us have come to realize that the words that leave your mouth, while as sweet and well intention as you may present them to the gathering droves of the gullible ears, exit your mouth with the speed of an arrow and the sharpness a blade that has a double edge pointing back at the shooter with the same accuracy as the target soul's painted bull's eye. But I will always forgive and never forget the moments that these words provided to the broken soul, heart, and mind of one terribly miserable beast, while banished from his form, made up his mind to trust one last time in the lips of his angel, and while glass rose petals shattered from the spoken words off her lips, the truths still glowed brightly in its broken shatterings proving that these harsh words of the cover up, was faked And the real voice, the real trust, the real love covered in smothering lies to hide it's embarrassing weakness of love, and showing that in its rock hard skin was a soft, well spoken, mild mannered (although as sharp as ever) heart and soul filled with the love for the beast, by the beast, and given back to this beast and then the beast transformed, converted into the one and the only one For you...me
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Feb 3, 2011
Feb 3, 2011 at 9:25 PM UTC
Unleashing the Beast (Uncovered Love)
Traveling on rocks when I came and saw you standing still in this theory of time where space and the minute hand collide in the explosive impact of a lovers long and dead embrace that envelops all of the planets existence in this single instance. and then I realized that this collision Was in the best interest of the sole proprietor of my heart's real estate on which houses were built to hold the familiar smells, touches, and tastes of your sweet touch, and yet this time I have found that you have forsaken this heart beating landscape with your fruitful lies and promising truths. For the rest of us have come to realize that the words that leave your mouth, while as sweet and well intention as you may present them to the gathering droves of the gullible ears, exit your mouth with the speed of an arrow and the sharpness a blade that has a double edge pointing back at the shooter with the same accuracy as the target soul's painted bull's eye. But I will always forgive and never forget the moments that these words provided to the broken soul, heart, and mind of one terribly miserable beast, while banished from his form, made up his mind to trust one last time in the lips of his angel, and while glass rose petals shattered from the spoken words off her lips, the truths still glowed brightly in its broken shatterings proving that these harsh words of the cover up, was faked And the real voice, the real trust, the real love covered in smothering lies to hide it's embarrassing weakness of love, and showing that in its rock hard skin was a soft, well spoken, mild mannered (although as sharp as ever) heart and soul filled with the love for the beast, by the beast, and given back to this beast and then the beast transformed, converted into the one and the only one For you...me
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54
The summoning, when it came, I answered with whale song of my own And all the water between did not distort the sound, the resonance Of tuning forks at the same pitch, that offended most ears who heard them Most did not; instead held cupped hands to their heads and heard only The rush of their OWN beats and the flat la la las of no desire to interpret those alien sounds The ocean floor held hidden things, broken by time and the wash of happenings that cracked and buried them, both And in the shatterings of these brittle things I showed you neon fish Darting through the ruined holes of ancient amphora, making playgrounds of their ruin I showed you scrolls with ancient learnings, written in ink that proved indelible And the meanings; I knew enough to draw a map with some destinations Yet the road was only a suggestion of words I could not grasp, their translation lost in years of forgetting how I asked you once, I am certain, in syllables that almost made my words If anything could be formed from shards; you had no answer, I Knew that all of the breakings shone back a whole in each, my Me reflected a thousandfold, not broken but in pieces
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Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
Answered; Calling