Love Is

Love is a mortgage,
A debt promise of pain.
Paid with interest,
For those you outlive.

Love is making connections
Despite knowing they will be broken.
And it’s the letting go
Of the guilt for doing so.

Love is for the small sacrifices,
That contain the hidden joys.
And the memory that’s both
Blessing and curse.

Love is knowing when to push,
And when you must concede.
The realisation that you’re wrong,
And the leaving of transgressions unseen.

Love is the give and take,
The unspoken word.
The comforts freely given,
And those gratefully accepted.

Love is the discipline to say no,
Through begging, pleading and pain.
And the careful observation,
Of limits reached.

Love is tempered guidance,
A shot at eternity.
And the words of encouragement,
To try once more.

Love is a partnership,
A bonding of the muse.
A step into darkness,
Taken together in faith.

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This poem is from the book ‘Reflections of the Self, The Poetry, Insights, and Wisdom Of Silence’.

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Do You Love Me, Or Just The Idea Of Me?

Do you love me,
Or just the idea of me?

I may be your ‘dream girl’
But I am real,
And that reality is different
From your fantasy.

How often must we fight,
Just to clarify
That you expected
Me to speak differently?

How many tears must fall,
Just to realise
That you expected
Me to be something I’m not?

If you love me,
Please drop your expectations
And open your eyes
To the real me.

My body has blemishes.
I will lose my temper.
I judge unfairly.
I get things wrong. 

I am not perfect,
No one is.
Unless of course,
They’re just a dream.

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This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

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Let’s Pledge To Repair

I know you care
And that you’ll always be there
But our intimacy?
It’s threadbare
Our bodies are no longer aware of the softness we would once share
It’s unfair
That the first thing to go was caress of one another’s hair
And the impromptu hugs that came from anywhere
No one is to blame
We just became distracted by stress’s snare
And focused on our children’s welfare
I know it’s wrong to compare
But I know we both miss the fanfare
The tender words that would soothe any nightmare
The love we would declare
And the time we would spare
So please
Take my hands
Let’s pledge to repair
To once again become a pair
To take time together no matter where
And no matter what events snare
Let’s swear
To take time daily and simply stare
Into each other’s eyes
Into each others hearts
To see each other bare
Let’s choose to share the same air
To take those gestures now rare
And gift them everywhere
To help each other up the stairs
To listen to the despair
To sit together in prayer
To love
And to be aware
Does that sound fair?

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This poem is from the book, ‘Poetry from a Dark Night of the Soul’.

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A Moment Fragmented

A moment fragmented
Against a lifetime
Of similar moments

A life shattered
Well before it’s time

Those moments
Replayed, rewound, and reworked

Those moments reconstructed
Into a tolerable shadow

Forever following
Forever protecting
Forever warning

Forever recalling
Those moments
Where life was fragmented

Forever forestalling
Advancement and growth

Forever focusing
Upon the past
And everything it implies
About the future

Another moment
Another fragmentation
Another destruction
Another shadow
Another protection
Another warning
Another follower

Just more weight
To carry into the future
Just more weight
To hold me in place
Just more weight
To remember

Just more
Just another

Just me
Reliving a moment

All those moments
Again

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This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

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It's Not Wrong

It’s not wrong to disagree
Just make sure you speak fairly

It’s not wrong to say goodbye
Just make sure you first try

It’s not wrong to say sorry
Just make sure it’s not out of worry

It’s not wrong to up and leave
Just make sure your heart’s on your sleeve

It’s not wrong to be incompatible
Just make sure you stay amiable

It’s not wrong to put yourself first
Just make sure you avoid the worst

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This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

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Songbird

Do I miss you
Or what you used to do?
Under the sheets,
Together we flew.

You were always so willing
For my desires to be fulfilling.
Without even asking,
Your every movement thrilling.

But now when I think back
All I feel is a lack.
I miss the opportunity to explore,
While resenting the sexual flashback.

Soon, I will find someone new
And replace the thoughts of you.
We will explore and play
We will love and screw.

But as good as that will be
Our connection will land differently.
She won’t be you,
Despite thoroughly satisfying me.

Please don’t get me wrong
When she goes I’ll miss her song.
Your tune and hers will entwine,
And I will not be strong.

No, flashbacks will still come,
You and her in a nightly scrum.
Memories of us fucking on replay
Leaving me numb.

Will I miss her,
Or how she used to purr?
Our nights outside together
Playing exhibitionist and voyeur.

But of course, there will be a third
To play with me and a safe word.
That tune needs another instrument,
Perhaps I’ll nickname her songbird.

You three together in my mind
Imagining our loving combined.
I’ll have us doing things we never dared.
Our sessions will no longer be confined.

Reality will become inspiration,
A fantastic memory dilation.
None of you alone could ever match
My new internal fixation.

In my mind you will forever be staying,
Forever teasing and forever slaying.
Forever I will have you nearby,
And forever your song will be playing.

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This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 2’

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Rejection

You are not what I am wanting.

Don’t offer to change.
The desire to change yourself
Is itself off-putting.

I know myself well enough
To know what I want;
And what I want is not to be found in you.

This isn’t to be lamented,
Mourned or concerned.
But to be celebrated.

Because if I had you as you are,
I wouldn’t be happy.
If you were to change, you wouldn’t be happy.

By taking you,
It would be as to someone else
Not having you.

This someone would find affection,
Where I see only flaws.
Would find joy, where I see annoyance.

A union should be frictionless.
Two pieces of a puzzle coming together,
Not a round peg, conforming to a square hole.

Don’t get me wrong,
This is not a criticism of you in any way.
You are perfect, but simply not perfect for me.

You are what someone is wanting;
And in turn you are wanting that someone.
But that someone is not me,

And you can never be my someone.

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This poem is from the book, ‘Words On A Page’

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