In life lives a fantasy,
a gentle reminder of a soft journey,
one rampant with a passion,
driven by the essence,
the true nature of knowing,
her every curvaceous tone,
whether it be intellect
or the naked reality …
In imagining woman,
might the man remember
an eternal mystique
shall be her endearment,
the freedom she carries to be
just lovely in every aspect
of her being.
Woe that we do forget
in the throes of a neediness,
a loss of contentment
with recognizing peace,
instead tossing aside the value,
that originating seduction,
for a callous recall,
one that may cause confusion,
detract from any innocence,
to inherit an ugliness toward
It is in that pause,
the reflection of man,
we can realize
there is truth inside the goddess
of our humanity,
that spiritual reckoning
suggests a karmic wave
of true innocence,
the essence of woman
be shared only in the eyes
of sacred love.
I often while in wonder, imagine a perfect life,
It isn’t as much what you might want to believe,
more essence of a shared love;
lives a purpose bound around goals,
a sometime realization that this was, might be, is
I’m thinking about love today,
as I watch the world slowly drift by,
waiting upon a vehicle,
a certain style of verse,
a reason to understand just why,
I’m still trying to figure it all out,
what eternal dial of time will define,
my own perception of love.
She does hold my heart,
and yet, I feel compelled to explain,
it is not because I can,
more truly the reason,
is her undying love,
my response to feeling that want, desire, passion,
all rolled into this is who I am,
for now in the moment,
this is where I want to be,
with you, her, with a spiritual energy,
it is real in my eyes,
I do look to the sky,
I wonder why,
the answer is not clearly found,
only instead, brought about by a selective
faith in my own mind,
what I feel is true,
when I think about love.
There can be this vacant silence,
I have felt it
so often, struggled to accept, to understand,
and yet every moment it envelops my world,
becomes a torment,
the wheels of my mind roll on,
she continues her mystique, and yet, I am here alone,
wanting to blame someone else besides myself,
so I withdraw, become quiet, probably obstinate,
as the sadness rolls in to my being,
and the skies are blue, and the sunlight easily lost in shade,
while my eyes do continue the search.
is all I receive in kind,
suddenly my purpose does change,
to such a marvelous degree,
that when it appears my desire to be,
begins its own personal travel,
the fire lit,
the vacancy gone,
surely filled with the grace of her goodness.
She wants to call it intrigue,
and I want to label it elegance,
society would suggest refined wonder,
and I would call it beauty,
her world would suggest status quo,
and I would argue beyond wonder,
so delightful, simply sensual,
an essence of certain sweet embodiment,
that in a word,
sends me to that settling place,
where nothing can ever possibly matter,
beyond her word,
Oh I have tried,
I do love you with all my being,
and would sacrifice a world,
one filled with reputation and avarice,
for the soul that might challenge
a societal norm.
How often would I tell her
she completes the essence of my reason
to examine any notion in my mind.
How easily could I look in her eyes
and tell exactly what it was that mattered
to me in the moment.
It is always you,
all ways lead to your heart,
and it is me that breaks the path,
by locking onto selfish needs,
rather than the appreciation of just how
magical my life has become with you by my side.
Oh to vent a passion like ours,
would write volumes of beauty and grace,
carve into tree trunks, the solid hearts
that symbolize summers and hot spring days,
and impulsive scenarios where two people,
just allowed life to take them in its arms,
and kneel before the starlit sky,
a kiss, a smile, a gasp,
and it was then,
I knew I could know no other love.
Oh it’s true, not simply a mockery
we often appear to be more cagey
I’ve carried the wounds of childhood,
in order to find comfort in that I would.
This life I lead is sometimes a travesty
I hurt people to benefit me, simplicity.
A long time ago, she seemed to agree
yet still today I haven’t a place to be.
I live in a bubble some might decide
if pierced life would surely need subside.
Yet, somehow I maintain an integrity
one that surely lives on in subtlety.
She is the maker of my dreams I swoon
though it is me shatters imagery too soon.
I wonder about this state of mind tonight
is it really all that matters or that might.
I can feel my body is resolute with despair
I cannot move from this place to there.
I wish that I could feel a sense of response
to rather know the pain than cause a ponce
I’m a quiet man inside my lonely mind
there’s far too much memory to remind.
I hope that time might heal the pain I cause
for as much as time for me does give pause.
I love to know that my life here does exist
for the need to disappear I then might resist.