(Jealousy, Petrus Renier Hubertus Knarren, 1861)
Interloper
I was too late in coming, too late in finding you
The same stars, the same chart, the same soul’s journey, except
She came first
First to kiss you
First to make love to you
First to marry you
First to give you what you needed, what you wanted
Purpose, meaning, love
You gave her your dreams
She made them hers
Two, intertwined into one, forever bound
I was too late in coming
But I am here
Now what?
(Coniferous Forest, Ivan Shishkin, 1893)
Dreaming
Trees have a calmness in their silence
They whisper, talking among themselves in another realm–
the place of where fairies live, I am told
It is only when we are silent do we hear them,
with our soul’s ears; our mind’s eye
The voices of the feathered echoing in the chambers of their majesty
a symphony of the skies if one listens closely
I listen
I jolt by the awakening,
back into my body, my eyes flutter, or is it my brain?
Either way, I am back
Gone far from the stillness that I found refuge
The cool air that was breezed against my skin,
the pillars of protection that surrounded me as I stood suspended in my escape
The mossy path below my feet softening my journey to nowhere;
to anywhere but where I am
Oh, how I want to go back where peace lives, where my stillness isn’t taken from me
Where I know I am not battered
My spirit not lost among the daylight
Joy suppressed, pushed down,
covered up by anger thrown at me, pummeling and constant
Drowning out the music…the whisper of the trees
Why must I endure this chastisement of who I am; who I want to be?
It is foggy as I begin to see
the white ghostly haze floating in and out of the trees, slowly lifting away
It must be a metaphor, the blurring of my reality
The lines never clearly defined; life never fully written
(The Composer Mihaly Mosonyi and his Wife, Henrik Webber, c. 1845)
Will I Am
It was your eyes; the turn of your lips
Your arm wrapped around her in ownership
Pride? Acceptance?
Love?
You have come into yourself
I have been waiting for that, knew it would always come
It is handsome on you!
I never doubted
Never once did I see the limitations
I am maternal
My heart knows no limits, sees no resignation of despair
Only pathways, corridors to the unknown
No one can predict what is on the other side,
Fear restricting the possibilities
But I always saw
As I see now
A man unto himself, exuding that which you buried
The despair that had tormented; the unbearable pain for which you submerged into obscurity
Only to reappear a shell of your humanness
Did I remind you too much of what lay entombed?
Did you not see I was your savior?
No, I shan’t discuss the betrayal
The damage of my heart left to drag on the tethered strings of the severed connection
Ribbons that tied up our beautiful friendship
You never looked back at the remnants of those threads
As I mourned the death of you; of us
As I walked onto another path, another corridor
Not knowing where it would lead me without you
I glimpsed at your future, and it was lovely!
You caught it, didn’t you?
The thing you could never grasp, breaking you–changing you
It is a beautiful thing…happiness, joy, love
My heart overflows for you, as it always had, and always will
For only in life are our bonds severed; our souls are threaded in the heavens forever
(The Absinthe Drinker, Pablo Picasso, 1902)
The Black Cape
The thick cloak of black and wool
Splayed outward to the darkening skies
Undulating in the wind
A hawk’s eye, targeting my vulnerability
The kill is yours…I have no where to run
No refuge offered–the guardians are all asleep
Lay upon my weakened bough…
Not for comfort or warmth
We know better–you and me–we have danced this dance before
Do I open my eyes, or shield myself from the horror
Is one better knowing, or hiding?
Either way, there is no mercy
Only bloodshed, wreaking havoc on my humanness
It is no wonder I have become invisible, unable to see the light that once burned fiercely inside
I think they called it innocence, now downgraded to wisdom…if you can get there without surrender
The land mines are many, few too many times a direct hit
Pieced together, scar tissue binding the shreds, bearing similar shape of what keeps the the life force flowing
Preservation is restored
But at what price? A scarecrow without a brain? A tin man without a heart?
I have learned the drill: cower and recoil
Time has no clock; pain has no limits
The darkness will eventually be lifted, but not before retribution has been paid
(Coffee, Richard Diebenkorn, 1959)
The dark brew gurgles
Froth a sin of my delight
I smile in secret
Am I wicked for the indulgence?
Quiet is the night, under no scrutiny
My desires are uncaged
Let out to air
Imagining the impossible
Pondering the what ifs
It’s just a moment or two
My retreat from drowning
My escape, if you must know
The mere pleasure tied to my kindred
Destiny fooled for a moment
Or at least, suspended
Whilst I sip, submit and succumb to the seduction
(The Kiss, Edvard Munich, 1897)
Dreamweaver
Do you not see that we are tied by one string?
Our love shrouded
Woven in the fibers of the heavens
Lost at first breath
Shades of grey, but not forgotten
You see in your mind’s eye
I am as real as you
Flesh within your grasp
Our breath as one
Lips upon lips, hand into hand
Your body enraptures me
I fold into you; sanctum
You embrace with all that you are–all that I need
All that I am returned unto you
I want to scream, “Wake up!”
But it is I who dreams
My tears wet upon my cheeks reminding me
There is no one there
Just darkness
(Love and Pain, Edvard Munch, 1895)
NUMB
Tormented soul
Why do you suffer?
Why do you swim around in the mud only to sling it towards those that stretch out their hands?
You do not see the light
Draped in blackness of your own making
Breathing is heavy, eyes wide, mind panicked
Casting doubts on your saviors
Taint all that is good-all that you are
Doubting God’s perfection; the sin of Eve
Breathe in the payote of the damned
Cradle in their claws
Comfort for a price, I warn
They do not give so freely
Your soul is payment
Mark this moment; the stopping of time
The last touch of my skin
Our hearts pressed against each other
My tears choking
You’ll mourn this moment, this life I so freely gave you
Mocking my worth; stamping on my sacrifices
All for self love
What was my sin; my debt to repay?
Has God no mercy of the price I have already paid?
I humble myself because of you–before God–the lessons I am to learn
Cursing my path to damnation; your road to perdition
I weep, will continue to weep, and will always weep
For you are not just mine to give, but mine to give up
I set you free…
