Love – Page 19 – One Woman's Quest

Marital Dance

We converse in actions,
words inaccessible –
have not been schooled
in dialogues for two.

His clutter spreads,
pronounce’s a kingly
presence, commands
attention, oppresses.

I clean with insistence,
shuffle papers, wipe up
crumbs, assert my right
to co-exist, belittle him.

Once we studied dance;
he learning to lead, I
to follow signals – the art
is lost on us now, our steps

more interference, blocking
an inconvenience, not
a strategy, we are rhythmless
avoidance more tolerable

than the effort it takes to tango.
How did language fail us?
experts now at skirting
delicate issues, retreat before

we speak, pray time will serve
absolve the problem, but only
distance grows in silent cracks
and we converse in actions.

(Image: source unknown)

Contemplating Confinement

Is this clawing essential?
Are we creating a practical life,
a persuasive existence;
or are we restrained by judgments?

Do we value joint holdings,
going places – are we two wheels
pulling this oversized work in progress?

Is there space for support,
to land, and register once
on board – a must-have meeting
of the minds? Or are we cramped,
piece by piece, to each their own –
equals, wrestling with what’s important?

Can I conceive – while pleading my case –
whose rights decide, how we preserve
our assets? Risky when both charges
are unstable: a study in adaptability

a hard trial – requires a negotiation tool
for surfacing needs, to lift us from
our limitations, help us confront
mirrored images, perceptions
battling for imperatives.

Eventually, our laboured intentions
will birth proof of the worthiness
of this journey, that storing family
differences and moving precariously
forward will succeed, if we are committed,
flexible, and willing to co-create.

(Image: aboutyourrelationship.wordpress.com)

Demon Prowler

It stalks – colourless,
soulless, skin of leather,
ears tufted – a demon
predator crouching
in the private places
awaiting bloody attack

A wife reigns in instinct
ignores niggling senses
guards her loyalty –
vaguely speaks to spouse
of fears, accepts a shrug
as compliance, relaxes

Routine a barrier to what
lies within, darkness waiting,
watching – convinces herself
serenity is a state of mind,
while her husband seeks
a more youthful companion

Has plotted his escape –
accomplices secured –
intends to bulldoze
the marriage – feeds
the beast with covert
manipulations, lies

Inexperience lures the
maiden, sandwiched
between his lust and
her hope, willing to risk
precariousness, encroach
on marital privacy, bait

for what lurks there,
impatient for the kill;
but who will fall victim,
whose heart be torn
in irreconcilable pieces
when betrayal strikes.

(Image: mixtapetherapy.wordpress.com)

Tender Hearts Fall

Here’s a boy, tender
and raw, heart exposed
awkward innocence
blocking his intention

Here’s a man, eyes fiery
coals, hands coarse ,
face leather, smoky
words coaxing affection

Here’s a girl, book smart
heart uncertain, romance
a fluttery desire, caught
between the two, torn

The boy averts his eyes
fears she’ll see the raging
in his loins, read obsession
in his longing, reject him

The man takes her hand,
softly traces the outline
of her face; slow, seductive,
draws her into his mystery

She is a two-headed lamb,
ponders the breadth of
the boy’s shoulders, knows
his future is a straight line

Hormones rage at man’s
touch, the way his eyes
devour her, the magical
nuances in his voice

Two paths, she thinks,
two diverging outcomes;
the boy holds himself erect
feels his fate is decided

the man lays his head
in her lap, thick waves
of black thrilling her
skin – a dead-end street

Is it pride that makes
the boy look away, she
wonders, or am I not
good enough – tainted?

She turns to the older
man, smiles, pull him
to her and surrenders,
darkness a familiar place.

(Image: mixtapetherapy.wordpress.com)

Hatched

She’s in the kitchen
cleaning, prepping
sweetness; wishes

to nurture childlike
longings – sugar laden
gifts, honeyed chops

hooks her men with
culinary preciseness
as legend prescribes

wants a strong, reliable
type to stir her ovaries
keep her dishing up love

disapproval, like raw egg
drips off her china plates
shame of misadventures
she cannot scrub away

only serves tea now,
the smell of liquor –
mingled with cigarette
and lecherous calloused
hands turns her stomach

avoids the coffee maker
in the same way, despises
the way the bitter brew
makes her head spin –
wits need to be in order

has settled now as hostess
caters to near strangers
whose attention, riveted
by television screens, are

lulled by the rhythmic
sounds of her sanitizing
while eggs cook on stove,
dreams of romance shelved.

(Image: bunnysvintagevictory.blogspot.com)

Hope’s Folly

Mystery holds allure –
dark, unkempt unknowns
entrap a young woman’s heart

She is bright-eyed, trusting
hurried engagements, equates
fatherhood with responsibility

moves in, settles, adopting
parental roles, motherly caring
washes the dishes – is committed

he roams, prowling old haunts
unquenched by domesticity,
hunts for new beginnings, projects

contentment into her passivity
disregards her pleas for passion,
lusts after intimacy of strangers

Stone-faced silence of his family
shatters her disillusionment, echoes
of past follies, like knives punctuate

the repetitive forsaking of self –
putting hope above discernment
desperation selling out to servitude

she is ready to shake complacency
shudders at how low she has fallen
will arise, face her demons, and go.

(image: theordinaryreview.blogspot.com)

Absence

A year ago, my husband was in hospital, having suffered a heart attack and awaiting bypass surgery. I wrote this in his absence. ( Image from http://www.meredithtowbin.com)

One Woman's Quest

Slippers, perched at night stand,
twitching impatiently,
mark the absence of feet,
cannot appreciate the meaning
of unruffled bed covers.

Abandoned, a coffee mug
bemoans its curdling contents,
complains of thick brown lines
contaminating its porcelain shine,
has not noted absence of hands.

Chair, pushed back from desk,
in partial rotation, sits awkwardly,
commanding attention, disturbed
by its misalignment, has not thought
to ponder absence of body.

House, uncomfortable with silence
creaks unnaturally, loudly voicing
objections to the absence of footfalls,
automated machinery and incessant
rings, beeps, and chimes of technology.

I try to reassure them that the absence
is only temporary, that the man whose
presence so strikingly fills this space
will return, hope they cannot read
the apprehension in my tremulous heart.

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Insatiable

He caved eventually
gave in to her nagging
left his wife, his children,
mistook her naked willingness
for love, a signal of commitment –
it was not – she would not package

her feelings into a domestic box
had no intentions of ever after
clothed her vulnerability in sex

as treacherous as Eve’s serpent
she seduced him, and once ensnared
spit him out with venomous joy

watched him squirm with regrets
his life shattered, heart ravaged
unable to break away, even as

she courted her next victim
twisting her bladed hold on him
he remained, convinced

he somehow deserved this –
had penance to pay, vowed to
make it up to her, could not

shake the depth of his desire
sacrificed himself wittingly
to her insatiable blood lust.

When We Meet in Heaven, Dad

I picture it: a convention –
where like minds congregate,
learn from one another,
aspire to betterment

A conference of healing,
dedicated to those newly
passing on, like limbo,
only educational.

Imagine my surprise, then
should you be there, Dad –
you who’ve never before
attended my performances

I’ll attempt to stifle the
discomfort, suppress doubt,
cherish the moment,
but I know you too well

will catch the gist of
your duplicity, easily
recognizing self-serving
motivations, feel the rage –

intact despite the body’s demise –
intent on tracking you down
one final confrontation
to elaborate on the deplorablity

of your manipulative ways,
your brick-wall tactics,
the cruelty of absenting
yourself from a child’s needs

would check the registry –
surely they have a registry
in Heaven – will not find
your name listed there

In an aha moment, think
to find you under an alias –
I’d be right – stand at the door
of your chamber, inflated

righteousness ready to
denounce you for eternity,
feel the strike of bolt-like
revelation, decades of wrath

disintegrating into sorrow,
sudden clarity washing over me,
as you open the door, hesitant
to receive me, I’ll declare:

“Dad, it’s okay – I accept you
just the way you are; I just
don’t want any more
distance between us!”

(Image: dorotheacarney.com)

Love Matters

Ex-lovers,
like criminals
line up –
a visceral backdrop

Another vies
to take their place,
a critical eye
and no-nonsense
disposition

questions motivations
highlights the faults
in righteous accusations,
bends the arrow of blame
reassigning guilt

the jilted,
now pathetic,
craves absolution,
starves for appreciation

awakens to
sickening revelation
that sex alone
cannot sustain
relationship

understands
too late
the value
in personal
accountability.

(Image: www.psychologicalscience.org)