Archive for the ‘Love’ Category

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Summer Rainstorm

August 10, 2005

Clouds open,
rain patters on dry ground,
the earth drinks it in
like my lips tremble
at your cool liquid kiss.


A work-shopped version of the tanka that started in the tanka forum below. I have learned so much from the work-shopping process, and I think I now have a much better sense of what tankas can do (and why they are used). Note that I have lost the formal need for the 5/7/5/7/7 format (although it still roughly corresponds) and the last two lines now form a new image, juxtaposed against the first to give a different read. This “reversal” is what tankas (as I am learning) are particularly known for.

Hope you enjoy!

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Even Superheroes Have Issues

August 5, 2005

Superman must have a diagnosis:
Schizophrenic? Or passive-aggressive?
Was he ever analyzed? What about
his fear of kryptonite? Is that normal?

Batman never got out of his PJs.
Wonder Woman liked to flirt with evil.
Aquaman must have wet the bed. Or so
I imagine. Even Superheroes

have issues. Well, then, why not me? I know
I’m not perfect, I have my flaws, but I
never tried to fly, or to save the earth;
I think I know I’m not that powerful.

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Goodbye My Love

July 14, 2005

11/18/1983

Goodbye my love,
I leave you now,
your false desires
your constant ire
prove to me that I must go.

I put my trust
and faith in you
and you have let me down.
You left me here
to rot in Hell
for all that you have done.

I loved you, yes,
but not the kind
of deceiving love you crave.
It was not hate,
not cold, but you
who drove me to the grave.

And so I bid “Adieu”, my love
and please don’t try to follow.
For you are far too weak and meek
and your lies are all too shallow.


Hmm, guess I had some anger I needed to work out here. Funny, but I can’t remember what inspired this, but it is one of a series of angry poems I wrote about love as a teenager (14 at the time). Although some of the word choice seems rough to me now (and indeed I did modernize some of it for you, gentle reader — I didn’t think you wanted to read “I put my trust / and faith in thee / and thou didst let me down”), the emotion is genuine, so it seems worth saving.

The question I would ask you, gentle reader, is what did the “love” do or not do? I have my answer, but I am curious to read yours.

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Yellow as the Sands

June 23, 2005

Yellow as the sands
that fall and measure time,
Old as the hills
and lovely as the Rhine.


Dignified beauty
that has but run its course,
Signifies age –
that lonely, silent voice


which calms and soothes
all worries, cares and fears.
That silent, comforting partner,
ever-present through the years.

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Untitled

June 12, 2005

2/11/1990


My mind flows,
vividly erupting in signs so picturesque and meaningful.
Signs I’ve only seen before in dreams.


And you return them,
simmering in candle-beauty as you share with me the words.
Neither of us speak, we stare at . . .


Our hands meet between us,
moving independently of our bodies and each other.
Together making words no one knows, but feeling radiant.


You lift your hands in grace,
I lift mine in return.
The air a shimmering trace,
Into the night you turn.




One of the few poems from my in-between period.  An expression of love for the woman who opened a new world to me, where poetry is expressed in the hands, and meaning is a question of movement, not word-choice.

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The Four Seasons

June 4, 2005

11/27/1985 (edited and revised 6/4/05)


As God created seasons, such is life
And now I see that winter comes, my end
But yet, I still can see the spring, the life,
Beginning of my youth, the picture sends
A warming comfort that must now grow cold.
I also see the summer, ripen’ng years
And yellow clouds that as I’ve grown old
Have hid the summer, all my hopes and fears.
Then fall comes next, and night comes after day
And yearly end draws nigh, as does my life
And blooming now in me, I see the way
To death, a change, and finally to life.
     And through it all, I see my love for you
     It grows and ends and grows, begins anew.

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Black and White Photograph

May 27, 2005

2/17/1984 (revised 5/27/05)


Soft noise,
Loud voice,
Cold light,
Long night.


I awoke,
Grabbed a smoke,
Walked out,
You shout.


Hit the street
Hurt, my feet
Roamed away,
Gone a day.


Loud noise,
Soft voice.
Hard light,
Cold night.