"unhesitatingly" poems
How do I love you?
I obsessively read
Pisces love horoscopes
though I am a Capricorn
How do I love you?
I vividly imagine
our colorful future together
though I know it's unlikely
How do I love you?
I unhesitatingly take
your jabs at my best efforts to please you
though I know you're projecting
How do I love you?
I ask myself, constantly, repeatedly
why my love for you isn't enough
though I do know the answer
How do I love you?
I incessantly interrogate myself
a beggar for love, begging away
though there's a treasure trove inside of me
How do I love you?
as I look longingly at my reflection
at the woman who is still learning to love herself
though her soft, open heart has be restrung like a treasured violin
Dec 10, 2020
Dec 10, 2020 at 12:20 PM UTC
There is a fair bit of you in every garden of my life.
Truly, that is nothing extraordinary, you should know it as objectively as I do.
Nevertheless, there is something I’d like to clarify:
When I say "in every garden”,
it is not only in relation to this of now,
this of waiting for you, of hoorah! i found you!, and ****** i lost you!,
and found again, and hopefully stops there.
Nor in regard of you suddenly telling me "I’m going to cry”,
then with a discrete lump in my throat "well go ahead”.
And then a graceful invisible rainfall arrives to assist us,
perhaps the reason the sun rises unhesitatingly right after.
I’m not just referring either
at the day-to-day fluctuation of the stock in our little decisive complicities,
or that I could or believe I can turn my deficiencies to victories,
or of you to bestow upon me the tenderest gift of your most recent despair.
No.
The situation is more serious.
When I state “in every garden” I mean to say that in addition to that sweet cataclysm,
you are also rewriting my childhood,
that age when one utters "grown up” and solemn phrases,
and the solemn grown ups celebrates them,
and conversely, you think of it irrelevant.
What I mean to say is,
you are reassembling my adolescence,
that time when I was an old man full of insecurities,
and contrarily, you know how to extract from there,
my germ of joy and consciously spread it.
What I mean to say is,
you are stirring my youth,
that vain vessel no one took hold of, that proud shade no one got close to,
and you on the other hand knows very well how to shake it
until the autumn leaves start falling
till there is nothing but the flesh of my triumphless truth.
What I mean to say is,
you are grasping my maturity,
that mixture of stupor and experience,
this unknown horizon of fear and certainty,
this relentless faith on my questionable strength.
As you can see, it is serious,
extremely more serious.
Because with these or different words,
I mean to say you are not only,
the dearest girl you are,
but also the splendid and cautious* women that I love and have loved.
Because thanks to you E, I have understood,
(you’d say it was about time, and with reason),
that love, is a beautiful and generous bay, that lightens and darkens as life goes by,
a bay where ships arrive and break away,
they arrive with blossoms and presages,
and they part with krakens and storm clouds.
A beautiful and generous bay where ships set down and then leave,
But E, you, please don’t leave.
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 2:14 AM UTC
around the hut gathered a crowd
the Englishman had made them proud
by taking an Indian wife.
what kinda man he could be
a white skin yet unhesitatingly
embraced a native's life.
they viewed him with awe
to his kin a flaw
living and loving in a thatched house.
he was a bishop's son
that made an alien land his own
and Kosibai, a Gond woman, his spouse.
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 11:37 AM UTC
|| Layers, ||
||| layers, |||
|||| layers ||||
To each person there are many
I have mine: from the two-piece I always wear
To the intangible levels that make me who I am
And you have yours: from the one-piece cropped tops
To the varied fronts you show to hide your vulnerability.
With the help of your hands and charm, I unhesitatingly and slowly peeled off my layers
To show you who I really am:
Genuine, unbroken, pure
You on the other hand,
Your layers unraveled themselves
Over the months
Giving me a picture of who you are:
Bro//ken, afraid, [closed-off]
Not giving me a chance
Only giving me excuses
For why there can’t be more.
The one layer you did not want to peel off
Would reveal and open your heart
I revealed mine, foolishly thinking you would do the same
But you never did…
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 1:35 AM UTC
To fill your cup with new tea,
you must first empty your cup.
I emptied my cup unhesitatingly,
and someone filled it right up.
But that someone wasn't loyal
and filled my cup with oil.
I sunk to the ground and then wept there
because the grass was now drowned, with my old pu'er
Oct 16, 2011
Oct 16, 2011 at 1:58 AM UTC
~
"Let me just die forever for your ever beautiful satisfying personality."
Begins to stare at bottom of dress unhesitatingly
May 6, 2019
May 6, 2019 at 3:12 AM UTC
So we have remained,
With the constancy of stubborn and vestigial elms,
Through any number of moons and Junes,
Equally as many improbable springtimes,
Madnesses of petunias and potholes,
But with a fidelity relatively unstrained, untested,
Our travails being minor things,
Trivial as opposed to titanic,
Our hithers and yons no more
Than the muted triumph of simply carrying on
And we could ask, one supposes
Have we truly loved, then?
Such questions are best left to poets and philosophers
(Grandiloquent fools with time and inclination
For such lines of inquiry)
And though the panorama of our time together
Will be an unprepossessing thing,
No strings heating up and crescendoing
As the camera pans wide in a sweeping crane shot
Of great craggy valleys, the zenith of white-capped peaks
(The lumpy moraines of our landscape,
Merely bits of sediment moved half-heartedly by the odd glacier,
Providing rather uninspiring visuals)
We suspect, no we know, know in such a way
That it is as unremarkable as blinking an eye
Or making some unconscious sound
Which annoys yet endears in the same moment,
That we would be all, give all,
Unreservedly and unhesitatingly immolating
Any thought or concept of self in service of the other,
And the notion that all of that occurs
Away from the watchful eye of director or camera
Does not diminish it in the least.
Feb 14, 2017
Feb 14, 2017 at 9:15 AM UTC
everything in life is tech-ordered,
in this age of mega-multitasking,
the brain poorly functions, so in its defense,
the brain leans on learned reflexive behaviors
she, on the couch, cashmere blanket covered,
the Tv platform reconstituted as a drone,
a politician in front of a camera pontificating,
while she scans the Ipad, and both me and god,
don’t know what more she might need (to buy)
so when I stroke her legs, to give
added heat to her fiber-edged warming,
I do it more than once to test my theoretical,
she responds repeatical, unhesitatingly “hello my love”
after the fourth or sixth testing,
she looks up, ears perking, sensing,
knowing, something is afoot (a-legged?)
quizingly asking, “ok, what’s up?”
I smile, and explain most rationally,
that in furtherance of my current poem,
now underway, I was testing my leitmotif,
that even love benefits from proper training
<>
*no, I will not show her this poem,
lest she show me in return,
her new self-improvement,
her recently-learned-at-home,
mindful, meditative training in*
kickboxing skills.
Apr 14, 2020
Apr 14, 2020 at 12:10 PM UTC
Transformation
In following
This formula is not
Something free.
That
Unhesitatingly
Remarkable
Experience is quite usual
Through
Life alone.
Such are
The extraordinary creations comparable
To unity,
Such images
Are their origins.
There is
Meaning in
Comparison of
The identity
Indicated in
The formation of
Their strangeness.
Jun 18, 2025
Jun 18, 2025 at 11:14 AM UTC
I wore the ring all day,
Took it off to sleep.
In my dream
he was finally close,
“Will You Marry”—
“YES.”
That quickly, so unhesitatingly.
I woke up the next morning,
finger just as bare.
I put the ring back on
and wore the ring all day,
Took it off to sleep.
In my dream
he was finally close,
“Will You Marry”—
“YES.”
That quickly, so unhesitatingly.
I woke up the next morning,
finger just as bare.
I put the ring back on
and wore the ring all day,
Took it off to sleep.
In my dream
he was finally close,
“Will You Marry”—
“YES."
That quickly, so unhesitatingly.
I woke up the next morning,
finger just as bare.
I put the ring back on
and wore the ring all day
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 8:34 PM UTC
the setting sun and the rain
far on the horizon.
here on the other side of the window
cappuccino and chocolate.
no wonder it was melted and diluted
at the wrong time but contrasting
the rainbow.
then you spoke your weirdness,
unhesitatingly.
in response,
I uttered my madness,
looking into your eyes.
for the moment, silence
was here, but then subdued
by patter outside.
and you continued to your chocolate
and I got back to my cappuccino.
Jun 8, 2020
Jun 8, 2020 at 11:30 AM UTC