Tag Archives: broken love affair

Melancholy


Melancholy

The campfire collapses into a plaintive rune,
echoing the plangent wolf call of a loon
that floats the silver pathway of the water-jellied moon.

I face our final parting. As I hear its taunting croon,
the humid night surrounds me in its tight cocoon.
Life is a cruel comedy whose laughter ebbs too soon.

 

The rune “pertho” designates secrets and chance. It’s sign is water.

Prompt words are plangent, anyway, comedy and river. Here are links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/05/06/rdp-monday-plangent/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/05/06/fowc-with-fandango-anyway/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/05/06/your-daily-word-prompt-comedy-may-6-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/05/06/river/

Rewind

 

 

Rewind

Cast-off loves better unmet,
daredevil acts you’d best forget—
so many choices in your past
that people said would never last
Prescient in part, their words are sage.
It’s true that you have turned the page
on all the foolishness of youth,
and yet, it must be said in truth
that memories of all that’s past
will last and last and last and last.

You’ll play them over in the dark,
your mind the screen, as you embark
upon that nightly rerun of
each painful unrequited love.
Foolish decisions you once made
reemerge in dream’s charade.
All mixed together, puzzling, dense—
a mire that defies good sense.
Until there, in your deepest being,
you’ll find the truth of what you’re seeing.

 

Prompt words for today are cast-off or cast off, prescient and daredevil. And, for NaPoWriMo: write your own sad poem, but one that, like Teicher’s, achieves sadness through simplicity.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/04/04/rdp-thursday-cast-off-cast-off/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/04/04/fowc-with-fandango-prescient/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/04/04/daredevil/

 

Collapsed Bridge

 

Collapsed Bridge

The bridge between us is a shambles. Water cascades between us.
John Gray would say that you’re from Mars whereas I am from Venus.
Most of what I treasure you consider superficial.
We are so far apart that we should now make it official.
You go your way, I’ll go mine, with no one to convene us.
It should not be traumatic so let’s just try to wean us
from all those little petty things that once brought us together,
like quince preserves, Scrabble and a fear of stormy weather.

We’d snuggle up and toast some toast and slather on the jelly,
bring out the quilts and Scrabble board and just ignore the telly.
Pepperoni pizza and rum and Cokes and cards
once kept our crystalline affair from shattering to shards.
But since we’re both on diets from pizza and each other,
the blanket that once comforted now only serves to smother.
I’ll go my way, you go yours, as though we never met,
and if I’m craving Scrabble, I’ll use the Internet!

Prompt words today are bridge, treasure, shambles and cascade.
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/12/18/rdp-tuesday-bridge/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/12/18/fowc-with-fandango-treasure/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/18/shambles-2/https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/12/18/your-daily-word-prompt-cascade-December-18-2018/

Interloper

Interloper

How did you find your way into my dreams,
ripping my comfort apart at the seams?
Once I’d escaped to back rooms of my self,
still I found thoughts of you stacked on a shelf
carefully obscured both in front and above
by other less dangerous memories of love.

You walked nonchalantly into the room
that I had just cleared with a cloth and a broom
of other dangers and sadnesses, not
knowing that once again I had been caught.
Now I hide out behind walls at the back
where all of my worst fears reside in a stack.

Cowering here as you stride through the place
that your very presence has turned dark and base.
How could I have loved such a frightening soul?
The box of my heart turned into a bowl
with all of my secrets and weakness revealed—
things that I now know I should have kept sealed.

There you sit quietly, perched on a chair,
one hand on the desk top, one hand on your hair,
writing cruel words—I know about me.
I ease my way over, hoping to see,
but the paper is empty, your ink has turned clear
making impossible all that I fear.

As now I remember that I let you in,
forgetting all else in the charm of your grin.
The joy of your hand as it guided me sure
across the dance floor—all that allure
that kept me involved in the surface of you
avoiding the dangers that later I’d rue.

So even now, so far from your threat,
I find myself struggling, caught in your net.

This is a rewrite of an earlier poem For dVerse Poets Open Link Night

 

download-1

Dropped

Dropped

The night is a broken cup,
its last sip spilled
from a shattered edge.

My thirst unslaked,
I dream
dry dreams

that go unquenched
by morning’s
gentle rains.

The dVerse Poets prompt was to write a poem that was an extended metaphor. Brief poem? Brief metaphor.

Dear John


Dear John

I am impervious to your wiles.
Your mephistophelian guiles
that work so well on other wenches
will no more draw me to their trenches.

For though you are adorable,
the games you play are horrible.
The traps you lay? Deplorable.
Thus, I’m no longer scorable.

My thirst for love has been well-quenched.
Seeking a sip, I came out drenched!
Go find another piece of meat

to make your perfect day complete.

Mistakes once made, I don’t repeat.

I’ve found your name and hit “delete.”

 

Prompts for the day are drench, adorable, mephistophelian and complete. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/10/27/rdp-saturday-drench/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/10/27/fowc-with-fandango-adorable/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/10/27/mephistophelian/
https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/2018/10/21/daily-addictions-2018-week-42/complete

I Took a Picture of Your Name

 

I Took A Picture Of Your Name.

After so many years, seeing it again on the screen,
I took a picture of your name.
Not written by your hand,
it had a strangeness–
featureless, revealing nothing.
It had no voice,
no breath.

Out there sharing itself with the world,
it has formed a wall around
that intimacy it birthed when you took my hand in yours,
using your name to pull me closer,
powerless against its strength on your tongue.

Everyone wanted to share a part of what made you you,
but I only wanted to be with you, back when,
scrawled in your careless hand,
you were written on my soul.

Wanting to be perfect for you,
remembering that tattoo you traced across my back.
Your name and mine.
“Always,” you wrote.

My trip to Guanajuato with my nephew Ryan was wonderful–just about as perfect as it could be.  Since I was 49 when he was born and living two thousand miles away, we had never really spent any time together, other than 4 short overnight visits I’d made to their house enroute to other places or for graduations or other celebrations, and he was always a kid with the other kids, I an adult with the other adults.  This was our first meeting as adults and with an entire week to get acquainted, we walked and looked all day and talked all night. Ryan did fine taking in the sights with people about fifty years older than him and formed a particular bond with one member of the group–a bit of a rascal at 76–really a kid who never grew up.  Ryan was actually better behaved than this man who could serve as the pattern for a trickster.

As our tour bus pulled into Ajijic at the end of our four-day tour, Ryan asked for his name and information so he could send him this photo I’d taken of the two of them. I pulled out pencil and paper, but the man had his own phone in his hand with his contact information on it  as he was spelling out his name so I could copy it , so Ryan merely reached over, clicked his phone over his, and said, “I’ll just take a picture of your name and look you up on Facebook.”

“I Took a Picture of Your Name” popped into my mind as a wonderful beginning line for a poem and although the resultant poem  is not about them and has nothing to do with our trip, here is a photo of them in recognition of the fact that their overheard conversation was really the prompt for the first poem I’ve written in five days.  My Internet-less vacation is over, but I’m going to try to remember the lesson it taught. Less time on the computer.  More time out in life.  Ryan and I are already planning our next adventure. I’ll show some photos later after he’s gone.

Ryan and friend about to descend into a silver mine in Guanajuato.