Sometimes...
Sometimes I feel like
I don't have a partner
when you come and
go as you please
It's been two months now
And I think you're gone
for good this time
As much as it hurts
I can't be mad at you
After all,
you reap what you sow
My apologies to the
brown eyed man in Texas
Now here I am
Wandering around
like a lost soul
Finding solace in the
brightly lit city streets
at 1:37 am
Sometimes I feel like
my only friend
is the city I live in
the city of angels
Lonely as I am
together we cry
*Separate Ways*
Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner...
As I lay here next to you
2 AM crying myself to sleep
You don't move
do you even hear me weep
I try hard to be the best
It goes unnoticed
Feeling unloved
unappreciated
Sick as it sounds
I'm used to it
So why do I still cry
I yearn so desperately
to be put on a pedestal
Appreciated for my strengths and soul
I crave the beauty of being loved for my passion and creativity
everything that makes me whole
I have jumped into the ocean of hope and 3rd chances
only to have you hold
my head under water
Finally I come up for air
Dazed but no longer confused
I contemplate
should I have stopped the pattern sooner before it was to late
I should have
But I didn't
can't go back
So this is where we are at
There you go
here I stay
Without a partner....
Im better off this way
Being alone
Isn't that what we all fear, deep down
that though we may live 80, 90 years
we may never find someone?
Or, would we settle too soon,
only to end up confined to an unhappy relationship
with someone we don't love, and probably never did?
Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner
A soul-mate, or whatever
And that I probably never will deserve one
But I find comfort in the fact that
at least I'm not trapped.
The Unaccompanied Existance
I'm marooned
In a crowded room
Alone
On the other end of the telephone
Mute at the microphone
In a garden overgrown
Unknowing and unknown
At the throne
Of a sad abyss
I think I missed
The warm touch
The cool kiss
The beauty and bliss
Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner
It's a cold insipid path without love to garner
Give the Crutch of God
When you are raised to believe in a God you are allowed the opportunity to someday deny its existence; given first the chance to experience a world in which you were never alone.
God is a crutch worth having when we first arrive to this planet, with such uncertainly and weakness. Children can truly be children--when they have a God. You learn to set aside unnecessary worry and give it to God; grow into teen years knowing all behavior is done with your maker watching, guiding and loving you.
Those teens then grow into adults and can properly critique the notion, with having first known a life with a Guide.
When you give a child a God, you give a child a chance to never be alone, to always have a partner. Like a child that loses a parent, you always have someone watching over you.
To deny a child the chance to believe in a God is something I am guilty of. I raised my first son, now a young man, believing the idea of God was preposterous, for the ignorant and uneducated, the brainwashed and the weak.
I was simply too smart to tell him I didn't know.
I was too ashamed to tell him I fell for the lies of the church I grew up in.
I was too educated to admit that no one really knows the truth of the matter.
I was too afraid to let his beliefs become organic to him;
and too uncertain to let them do the same for me.
Today, My Partner is God.
Some days that God is my mother, others it's Jesus, some days it's aliens and
others—simply atoms of energy. But it's real, it's mine, and for those reasons, and many more, I always have a Partner, I am never alone and no thought I ever have is private.
When I listen—it speaks to me, guides me with the words others speak, through the articles I read, and even random comments on the television. When I listen, I see. When I believe, I hear messages of guidance.
Give your child a God; let them see how it works. Let them decide if they'd rather not participate in having an indefinite Partner in life.
Shakespeare's 'blessedness
Of being little'
Wraps me gently
In his arms.
His subtle touch
My heart fulfills-
Like Wordsworth's ease
With daffodils.
Yet, like poor Keats
I sometimes fear,
That I may cease to be,
For in days of solitude
I seek only me.
Although his love
Does offer seas,
And endless stars to see
When I have failed
To love myself,
Is it true love I see?
I deeply fear
It cannot be,
No partner-
For unloved me.
Another’s soulmate
There is a destiny in the way you smile,
in your panther-hungry eyes,
but it is not mine.
There is a future in your restless voice,
waiting to flower and bloom,
but it is not mine.
There is a love in your ever beating heart,
like the fury of a hummingbird's wings,
but it is not mine.
We are not to be entwined,
an oak and a linden.
Because you are not mine.
(No matter how I wish you were)