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Open Poetry #29
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Not a poem really
| Open Poetry #29 |
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Not a poem really |
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LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296
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All night long the aurora blazed and glistened Lurid colors across the sky of my dreams so vivid Spewing incantations like a clock dazed and mesmerized, What the day’s efforts had accomplished, giving to my mind.... Soaking up time, and a portion of my soul. A waxed canvas sweeping veins of self-reliance “It was a good Dream”, I thought, “Comfortable” **************************************************** This particular October morning was cool & crisp, With a light lingering in the valley so that Peaks rose beautifully from it. Disconnected like vertical cerulean islands floating endlessly Across a calming sea, talking effortlessly to my every being. It resonated a tune impervious to my will, With a pattern of youthful notes, swirling stature in the hills. Clouds with wheeling grace, and a tender breeze. Blowing my laced curtains my opened window. I snuggled under the covers, transfixed in this moment. Ignoring the fresh smell of brewing hazelnut. Wanting so to drift back off to sleep, and the story telling of my dreams. I thought of that world as Heaven, the one with Him in it…now turned bittersweet. Before the troubling deep pains of our relationship, every fragment of each day held some character and sentiment. While gradually awakening, the bed seemed obscure, troubling…emptiness for a betterment. “I’ve awakened,” I thought. Though a vivid dream, moral choice seriously spoke. I'd rather die lonely and old, then to hear from him again; remembering her name on my caller I.D. “How could he be so thoughtless, so heartbreakingly dishonest?” I became fully aware of all the times he called, every single night for a week, beautifully composed & modest. Each word of sentiments eloquent and convincing. All that time, making promises to me..... While holding her in his arms. Those loving promises, he’d never keep. I rose, poured a cup of coffee mistrusting his hand righting, once, thinking him a wealth Of prose, filled with graceful finely woven notes. While sitting on the porch with a flowing white afghan balanced acrossed my lap, I remembered his words, and the haunting details, with tears of sadness. “I was a fool to leave you go”, he’d written, “your not going to get rid of me this time!” “I’ll be there with my bags, never to leave you again!” He romanced of friendship, love, and a life together, detailed and powerful, I was spellbound!; while he was breathing into my being. His moments of compassion, seemed entirely convincing. Enthralling like so many landscapes we visited; finely drawn graceful arrivals of so many delicate promises. Then, I remembered how each promise he made on paper, changed from one day to the next. Shattering the image I’d inhaled. First it was lunch on Sat., then Sunday Morning, changing to Sunday Night. He never could conceal a single thought from me. His plans were always changing in his mind. Promises, dates, times, “He” decided upon, regardless of his inquiries, “What time would you like me to be there”? He worked his tongue into the deep crevices of my mouth, pausing only for a friendly smile so broad and rare. The next day, he picked up his bag and walked down the stairs, turning to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back" me thinking "Oh Contrair, like a sunken road, I thought" “Why is he taking his Bag?” What blind love will shoulder despite the significance of a razored strap. Oh I was so very young and in love, and perhaps, starved for a mutual the unlocking of hearts, God’s certified champion, and instruments of human thoughts. Visible moisture waving through summer's most frequent mood, now turning, with fall, diminishing in altitude. Altering a sense of current, positions of tattered clouds hanging like rages, apparently finished...spent. I looked off across the morning sky, and despite the fullness of this particular growing season, I thought of the leaves which would soon be eaten away to their veins, by the cold, by tiny creatures, snow, and rain. How gracefully nature provides it's meaning. Now as all of morning revealed itself clearly, I remembered how we once whispered secrets and wondered if that was the way some people talked, having nothing to do with the real meanings? For a slight moment I felt a familiar tingle of pleasure, of the smell of him, by my side. The comfortable whole and truth of him being there. But that was the candid narrative; he was never really by my side, except for a few brief months that summer, now running to hide. Everything had changed, after that. Heartbreakingly, he’d come back and leave, time and time again. An exacting work of fiction, despite my feelings…for him. He knew I loved him, dreamed of enthralling spent days wrapped up snug in our mission. "He was like me, I thought, not adhering to schedules, trends, a verse for travel, loving life and just being. What do people gain from that, interspersing so many moments of sadness, very affecting would be an understatement! Was it the conquest, a self-absorption? fear? or some ego trip of another notch on his belt gives him elation? Now those questions no longer haunt me. Considering us a crown of elaborate brass-scoped artifacts…adjusting to the windages and elevations on the right track. The Marksmanship of the hands of fate and the hugeness of certainties swept away… Certainties or maybe on my behalf, expectations, of better days. A clone to a masterpiece had come and gone….and if I’ve learned anything…I’ve learned a smoldering spiritual love…a love which conquers all, a love so deep and richly devoted, a changing, intimate and sometime lethal spiritual awareness floating. But as nature provides, all things come to pass and love is perhaps, waiting for that very special man... With patience time, God will see fit to present a semblance of myself, closing the gaps and the miles, by a chance meeting, I'll turn around one day, and he'll be the greatest gift of wealth! Time and patience and self evaluation, rather then living a life of anger, hurt, distrust and frustration. Everything occurs for a reason. |
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| © Copyright 2003 Lee J. - All Rights Reserved | |||
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QjQ Member Elite
since 2003-04-18
Posts 3756U.S.A. |
Everything occurs for a reason how true these words are,,, enjoyed your write n read,,, |
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
....Saved before I forget!  My goodness, Lee! You are one fine writer! I'm so choked up right now, that I can scarcely key my response to it! As you know, I think you are one of the most beautifully descriptive writers--not only visually, but emotionally as well. I would enjoy reading a book by you. Have you ever thought of writing one! I'd buy it!  Linda |
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Seymour Tabin Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720Tamarac Fla |
Lee, Serendipity, happens, Excellent write.  |
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