Art of listening, best taught
by the family pooch –
ears attuned to nuances
carefully weeding through
human gibberish
for words that resonate –
treat, dinner, walk, cuddles…
Eyes inviting compassion
conveying depth beyond understanding
and when tone turns impatient
little paws retreat, as if words are blows
If only I could learn to listen
hear the workings of your mind
inquisitive, compelling – imagine
what I might learn….
(Best Listener first appeared here, August 2020. Image my own)
Burn the love letters
watch as each quaint lie curls
sham interrupted –
betrayal’s intricacy
scatters amongst the embers.
(Image my own)
Petals:
I’ve counted them
pressed them
preserved them
Drops
of sentiment
prescient
pretenders
Trivial
pursuits of passion
gaming for love
childish ploys
Petals
fickle as the seasons
elusive as joy
too soon expended.
(For Eugi’s Weekly Prompt: petals. Image my own.)
Rings me every time
he’s in town –
Tumbleweed, I call him –
a man I love to hate
He tints my normalcy
with neon rushes,
flames of screaming lust –
I’m better of without him
wish he’d lose my number…
well…maybe after next time.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Image my own. Piece is purely fiction, I promise)
Beneath the willow
a young woman dreams
Harlequin romance
in hand – portrait of
stormy-eyed perfection
Innocence luxuriates
in spicy dreams, awaits
love’s sweeping encounter –
hormones not yet bearing
the bruises of disappointment.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
“I’d like to get you know more,”
he said, pulling up a chair
met with stunned silence
“Truly,” he prodded, “I feel
as if we’ve drifted apart,
and I’ve ignored us.”
I might have said “No kidding”
but hope swelled with his words
and I blurted: “Ask away.”
So he listened,
as he had that first night
when tipsy and enamoured
We’d stumbled home
from the bar, and he
into my bed…and stayed
Seventeen years
three children
and five houses
and now he wanted to know
all about me – my interests
my dreams, my fears
And trout-like, I bit
spilled it all, still believed
in turning points and
riding off together
into the sunset, reunited
by undying love
It all showed up,
twisted of course,
in the court affidavit
material to defeat me
in divorce – discredit
my parenting capabilities
He didn’t succeed, still
wish we’d mingled more
you know – actual dates
before I’d committed
my life to this robotic
man, who never saw me.
(For Eugi’s Weekly Prompt: mingle. Image my own.)
I was the sun
you the moon
till she came
and somehow
you believed
in the syzygy
of three –
Were we sheep
the earth woman
and I, accepting
shoddy alibis
hearts eclipsed
minds sealed by
lunacy of desire?
(Image my own)
If paper beats rock
I win every time
Never mind steely arms
your mineral disposition
Nor that I tear easily – ink
blotting carefully plotted lines
I wrap myself around you
render you powerless….
….ah, love.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Image my own.)
Compare every love to first
unrequited – a poetess
obsessed – regret, longing
No wonder I lack roots
goodbyes stack up
like cardboard mannequins
There is no presence in yearning
I am automaton, disengaged
heart chained to fantasy.
(Image my own.)
Do not apologize
the fault lies not with you
Love, while lauded for its cures,
is not always compensation
for a life of turmoil –
I know you loved her
Watched as you let your dreams slide
heart wringing with your own sorrow
There was just something about her
men lined up to grasp… to make her
What? Theirs? Happy?
It was not to be
she barely possessed herself…
Even in death, I reach for her
try to define the ruse
but her essence is elusive
No, you are not at fault…
for she was never really there.
(For Reena’s Xploration Challenge, prompt the featured image.)
