In Between The Pauses

Embers of fury

follow me, creating pathways into

the fissures of my heart,

unrelenting in the face of my

determined despair.

Why does the wind blow in the

direction of passivity?

Why do the red birds take me on a

journey without any clues?

The beauty of life seems to radiate the most

in between the pauses.

My soul awaits,

gasping for air,

overwhelmed by the pain and the virtue,

that interlock and intertwine,

and enhance each other through their filters.

The beaten path makes me weary,

yet knows me more than I wish to admit,

reveals more of me with every turn.

Never Mine

I’ll be right there,” she said,

And I knew she

Didn’t really mean it.

But still I waited,

Anticipating that I would kick myself

For allowing myself to feel that

necessary but oh-so-dirty

four Letter word:

H O P E.

I was a sucker for the game,

But why did I feel

That with her,

I was always winning?

That there was always

A little more left

To say,

That even when we kissed,

She was still just a millimeter

Away.

 

A Thousand Ways

What is it about love that makes us fill the pages of our diaries, gab for hours with our girlfriends, and lose the ability to concentrate on just about anything? This little poem (in form of a triolet) describes a woman consumed by love, writing each day, inspired by her beloved.

She writes of love in a thousand ways 
until she’s weary, and tired, and spent;
Her determination fixed like a lover’s gaze,
She writes of love in a thousand ways.
As thoughts of him decorate her days,
The clatter of the world slowly becomes silent;
She writes of love in a thousand ways 
until she’s weary, and tired, and spent.

Is there anyone in your life that makes you lose time, that makes the world disappear? ;-)