Whispers of a lost love song in the passing wind
Underneath the ground, love sprouts—
never blooms
I am drowning in a garden of
yet unborn flowers
stems with no petals
buds yet to grow and flesh out
rich colours yet to stain the world,
and—
I am seeping into the earth
lost to dreams
with arms stretching out–
yet not grasping anything
but nothing
and through the cracks of the earth
in the space between the roots
in the space between the stems
in between the worlds—
I see you
the stars, blinking so bright
unreachable. so far away. so beautiful.
Underneath the ground, love sprouts—
never blooms,
and I drown in possibilities, in dreams
paradise stinging hot-sharp on my tongue
slipping away, fading to ashes—
drowning, falling
(I never expected someone to catch me but.)
stems yet to reach the stars tangle me
thorns yet to grow prickle me sharp and,
I can see blood, hot red liquid rushing drown my skin
yet I also, see nothing
I am drowning in a garden of
yet unborn flowers
falling low
love was never the skies
(yet you were)
enveloped in darkness, and—
I can’t see the stars
I can’t see you
and will never see the flowers bloom
(spring is a lifetime away)
Lovers’ Masquerade
Swift, sweet kisses
Exchanged in the shelter of darkness
They hide in thick shadows,
Skirting around brick walls
They delve into nooks and crannies,
Scurrying from the sound of heavy footsteps
They exist for all to see,
Keeping the truth in their hearts
Under lock and key,
Never to be opened
They try so hard,
Messily muffling their feelings,
Holding them sacred from prying eyes
Deep down, they know,
All the people that would disapprove,
For the Bible says it should be so
So everyday they go on,
Silencing the piercing pain,
Actors in a twisted masquerade
If they act like it means nothing,
Maybe it'll someday be true
Desperately they mask
Their forbidden romance,
Burying it in the sanctuary of night,
Keeping their love from plain sight
SHOULD
you shouldn't be allowed to see me
you should stay far away from the shipwreck
but you're the one to tell me that i
need to let go of the shoulds
i guess i need to listen to you more
listen to your voice like soft waves in an ocean
but you know we can't be one
no matter what
we can't be together
the world forbids
the touch of your lips
on my skin
we shouldn't we should
how to decide what's right
when listening to your heart means
ignoring the screams?
how to fall into your arms
when i know falling means
leaving behind my world
my world
what use is a world
when you can't live in it
i'm too busy living in you
because i hold on too tight
and i can't let go
i don't want to let go
but the shoulds of the world
tell me to stop holding your hand
why rewrite the stars
when rewrite means trashing
everything i thought i knew
i can't read over you like
a page in a book
because you are the bookmark
no matter how far i read
you are always there to hold my place
i can't let go
i won't let go
i long for a world where
good morning
doesn't mean goodbye
why why why should i
should i should i
too many shoulds and shouldn'ts
how can i listen to myself beneath these
societial lies
i should listen to you more often
your voice like the best song
my song is mute
please, give me back my voice
Obsessed
I would sink if I touched you,
But, I must try at least, to touch,
To caress your face, kiss your lips.
Hera took her time molding you,
Chiseled cheeks, cherry red lips,
Blue eyes one could just drown in -
Oh! How I long to drown in them.
But I cannot so I just gaze into those eyes,
So beautiful in the stream by my home.
Never to leave for my love holds me stronger
Than any earthly necessity.
Condensed milk
The sugary “milk” which I eat off a spoon
I think this is the reason my dentist has fallen out with me
It was an ultimatum
Either you give up the sugar or this relationship is over.
This forbidden romance is so desperately needed
I keep white chocolate in my bedside table
Just because it tastes the same
But this illicit affair cannot stop now
What would happen to the coffee and the porridge if I did.
Never mind
No one has to find out
About this long term indiscretion
Just you me and the NHS
Philip, the love of my life, is forbidden to be with me. You see, he is the crown prince of our kingdom, and I am but a lowly peasant. If we were to get married, Philip would have to give up his crown, along with his privileged lifestyle, and live with me in my one room shack, amongst the dirt, grime, and animals. Soon, his spotless silk garments would be indistinguishable from my own rags. Most, if not all of the people in this kingdom, would always prefer riches to rags. Luckily, that is not the case for Philip, and tonight, he has promised to meet me in the marketplace, where he will whisk me away to a foreign land and we will live out the rest of our lives together, free from the responsibilities weighing us both down. Once we arrive, what we already know in our hearts will be confirmed when we are joined in holy matrimony. I long for the day when I will be able to kiss his lips without worrying about being caught, and all the other wonderful things that come with complete freedom. I know it is coming, all I have to do is wait a few short hours, which is nothing compared to the eternity we will spend together.
Forbidden Fruit
Grace lowered her eyes, demurely. She had just caught Demetri looking at her, his face unguarded. The naked passion revealed in the split second before he noticed her watching, had her tingling all over. Suppressing her delight, she glanced up at her mistress, and the scowl on her face made Grace’s heart pound, and sweat beaded up on her forehead as she waited to find out if they had been caught.
“Grace, take the children to the stable for their lessons. I want to take a nap.” Her mistress ordered. Grace nodded and taking a child in each hand, led them through the beach grass, toward the stables, dizzy with relief.
Demetri straightened his face quickly, knowing the crime he committed by staring at Grace. She was forbidden fruit. It took real effort now that he knew she was looking back, and his mouth kept curving up as he walked behind her and the children.
Grace stood at the fence while the children rode their ponies, but it was Demetri she was watching. The play of his muscles under his skin, as he put the island ponies through their paces, had her feeling things she’d never felt before.
With the children abed, Grace waited for the house to grow quiet. When the last light finally snuffed out, she crept out of the nursery and headed for the stables, almost swimming through the moist summer night. Port Antonio glowed in the distance, guiding her way.
Smelling tobacco burning, she tried to stop, but momentum carried her forward and she thumped bodily into the Master’s back. He turned, regarding her silently, as she stood before him, mortified to be caught outside after dark.
“Go on, girl, he’s waiting.” He whispered, smiling, and she ran to meet her beau, their tryst now sanctioned.
An Angel’s Confession
“Are you here for a confession, my dear child?” the priest asked.
“Perhaps a confession, or perhaps a simple suggestion as I am deeply troubled by my current situation,” the lady in white said from the other side of the confession stand.
“My dear child, please describe your situation that is troubling you so much. If you need my help or suggestions, you can count on me,” the priest replied.
“I am paying dearly for a sin I committed. I am a married woman, yet I am also deeply in love with another man. He is currently in an ICU fighting for his life. While my heart yearns to see him for one last time and say goodbye, I am unable to visit him as his family is there around the clock.”
“My dear child, now I know who you are. The man you love is also a very good friend of mine. Whenever he talks about you, I can see the radiance in his face. I know he loves you with all his heart. By the way, I visited him last night at the hospital. I was greatly distraught to see him struggle to hang on to the last lungful of air, perhaps to see you one last time, too. He has always been very candid with me about his opinions and activities. While he does not believe in religion, he has been a true devotee of the Lord. We spent many evenings talking not only about spirituality but also about other aspects of our daily lives. Whether one agrees or disagrees with him, I noticed he forms a very firm opinion on issues he deeply cares about. His mind revolts against the silly and untenable customs and rituals we humans strongly believe in and religiously practice. He believes, those customs and rituals are created by the averages, meant for the averages and perpetuated over the centuries by the averages.”
“Since you now know who I am and the terrible distress I am in, as the agent of the Lord, please tell me what I should be doing. As you said, his suffering perhaps lingers as he may be waiting to hear the final goodbye from me.”
“My dear child, I do not consider myself the agent of the Lord, nor do I have any power to unite both of you for a parting goodbye. I suggest you communicate with the Lord directly and ask for His blessings. From my friend I know you have the heart of an angel, so the Lord will listen to your prayer and may grace you with a miracle. Please sit down by His feet and talk to Him from your heart.”
She sat down by His feet and prayed, “Oh Lord, please take me to him for one last time. He promised me he wouldn’t leave without saying the final goodbye to me. If I have committed a sin, I am amenable to even the harshest punishment my sin deserves, but please make it a deferred occasion.”
As she opened her eyes, she realized even the Lord felt her heart-wrenching pain and anguish. To her indescribable wonder, she noticed streams of tears were flowing down from His eyes onto her face. Having been awestruck watching this miraculous event, the priest remarked, “The Lord is merciful. He looks at your heart, and when He sees your heart is as clear as that of an angel, He can only bestow grace and mercy. He has opened the door for a miracle for you.” The priest turned around and continued, “My dear child, please wait. I have a gift for you from your friend.”
The priest returned momentarily and said, “My dear child, your friend has left this birthday card for you. He wanted to present this card to you on your next birthday, but as his condition was fast deteriorating he asked me to hold on to it for you.”
The card contained a hand-written poem that not only reminded her how much he always loved and adored her, but she also felt his pain for not being ritually together in this life:
She is moving away from my heart and soul; Oh God, I need your help and comfort to console.
My hands are tied and I am old and feeble, please tell her to be kind or else my heart will tremble.
Unworthy of her, but my restless heart fears to dwindle; cherished face and fond memories will slowly frail my soul.
Granted her beauty is grand, granted her deeds are noble; offered my heart, given my soul, yet she is unattainable.
Empty heart, barren soul, just left with insurmountable; Oh God, I need your help and comfort to console.
That evening as she tried to visit her friend’s ICU unit, she did not see a single member of his family or a close friend there. The attending nurse cheerfully accompanied her inside his unit and turned the bedside lights on. As she gently held his hands and started reading the poem for him, he slowly opened his eyes and smiled at her. She then rested her chin on his chest to watch his face she loved and listen to the heart she esteemed. He was also staring at her with open eyes -- just still.
“I am so sorry about your husband. My deepest condolences,” the nurse whispered.
My Twilight Princess
I stand in the presence of your alluring Beauty...
400 years of Visions trapped in her sparkling pupils...
Beautiful skin flows with diamonds never to be seen by the light of the Sun...
She hungers for what flows Within Me but fights the craving for our love...
Her accent from the past enchants me with every word...
I offer The Taste in exchange for forever...
She accepts, happily ever after...