...the next chapter

i’m writing the next chapter…
of this thing we’ve termed love
The “not-so-sure-anymore” stage
The “why-me” stage
The “i’m-not-good-enough-for-you” stage

The QuEsTiOnS stage…
worsened by circumstances clearly seen
…
surety is best friends with doubt
confidence and confusion trudge hand-in-hand
Love is asking one word heavy queries like, “Really?”
packed with layers of choking difficulty -
uncalled and called for
… meaningless investigative dialogue
back-tracking to where the tree became a log
luscious beauty now may be a condemned necessity
What’s the learnable lesson?

But this may not be she -
in her …totality
Will you ever know? Will I?

Is this over?

fonder heart

when care no longer suffices
we open our hearts to the deep longing
of this present's crisis
when talk becomes mundane
we struggle to make special feelings
never seem plain
when we accept this distance,
we embrace the hurt from its resistance
bear the consequences for refusing
to accept the consequences
then love begins to hurt
and the heart beat becomes an impatient race
to the core of our religion -
our religion of love
then hopefully, we've passed the question stage
we continue to fight and embrace...
this deep longing to
see, hold, watch, gaze, feel, touch
look, want, stop, give, take, go

explaining …self

you say its more than physical
I quite agree with you
it’s intellectual, morally spiritual
I don’t have to get used to you
so, I’m waiting
sometimes I’m wondering
as I have no reason to
ask questions like,
“why?”
lol… I’m not in love…
I love
You. I must admit –
you got to chapter 13 while
i was still on 5
gave me a definition without words
to the authority I quoted later
and hereafter, just as before

deep cynicism says you’re
fighting the feeling
the real feeling
but she’s only a whisper,
merely audible…
she’s also very unwilling to
spoil our present, future in sight or not
i’m blessed with the imperfection
that you are – now
there’s beauty in knowing you can
want what you don’t have and
love what you don’t have
even when you can’t have it…

08/08

throwback...

this poem has been on my mind.. probably learnt it in primary school or nursery... its crazy how these things stick...

"someone came knocking at my wee small door
someone came knocking, i'm sure, sure, sure
i listened, i opened
i looked from left to right
but nought there was astiring in the still dark night
only the busy beetle tap, tapping on the wall
only from the forest, the still owl's call
now i know not who came knocking at all, at all, at all"

love like He does

What i don't want to do is
have regrets over you
over what we've had, still have
shared, still share
if tomorrow lets us...

You don't fully understand what has happened
I don't either..
it feels good though -
How my eyes are wide open
yet
the obvious is irrelevant
how my feelings scream louder than
this present's reality
How my imagination is not
oblivious to if-tomorrow-comes

And Baby, its strange how
I'm not pressed to convince you
that He loves you, way more than
you love me
Its not a struggle to not tell you
that if you love Him first
you can love me - totally...

You are a good man.

Love, I want to love you
the way He's teaching me to
in totality, unconditionally...

my only struggle is restraint
holding me back from
fully embracing unexplored feelings
unexplainable things

I love that you're unafraid to
love me and tell me you do
I only wish your feelings were
totally true...

Gosh whatever this is,
its a strong one, plus this
thing telling me
your convictions are stronger than
the love you proclaim

I maintain...
if you love Him
You'll love me more than you claim

...

bone... my hair is BLACK!

listen

inspired by M-I-B

Listen... to the words I speak
And the reason I believe
We can do this
Listen… to the song I sing
And the beat I make that it melds to
Listen… to the sound of my heart
When it’s not intact as it races
Listen… to my queasy stomach
Taking a dump to release the filth
of life's faeces

Listen

Listen to me on this podium
Where I take the stand that was once stolen
When I hold up high my fist in the sky –
Heaven’s Microphone

Listen

To the sound of the avalanche of my tears falling
To the cacophony of movement – destination unknown
on both street sides calling
To confusion’s confusion of words that make no sense
or reason…

Listen to me when I ramble
cos. I just might say something smart…