Love can suck the glee from marry

WE GET IT!
I get it...
You insufferable prik!

You HATE all of it!

You hate your job...

(and somehow... 

that is my fault.)

You hate me...

You hate my family...

But it is Christmas.
Let us inferior
Optimistic fools
Have some joy for the day
And for God's sake
Get your glee sucking frenzy
Out of this place

And take your bitter taste with it. 

I shall open my door
to you
Any other day.

Friend don't despair - version poem

I have been fighting for the words to say,
anything that could push you the right way.
And I am disappointed to state
no text could heal your widow grief
so I didn't get that far anyway.

Here goes:

This sucks!
This isn't fair,
nor is it reasonable
and you have the right to hate
everything!...
right now.

Life's a devious bitch!
When you get a little air to breathe
it punches you right in the nuts
and knocks you senseless down
to taste the dust from the ground!

Love hurts!
Love is as hurtful
as living is deadly!
We weren't build to be treated this way,
our fragile existence
is torn into pieces
with the whims
of this treacherous adventure!

Please, please...though
don't forget
how much yesterday felt
worth it all.
Sit on your fingers for just a while,
gorge on chocolates
and as many indulgences
as you can find...
but remember
life will still be here
waiting for your return.
You count many people on your corner,
holding the towel and wincing with the punch
I know you can count on me,
when you decide to fight back.

Remember,
for every present
there was a past
and there will be a future,
and the laws of physics thus dictate
(due to the continuity of state)
that better days will come.

The mist nymph

Two glaucous lights
pierced the dense mist.
A breath of wind,
muffed a voice sing,
pushed violently
the naked branches of bistres
that caged out the moon
and alabaster rags
revealed in a pair.

The air shifted,
cutting icy at my face,
so did all branches,
the rags at me pointed
and I could distinguish:
"Hold him!"

My feet disobeyed
the ticker pumping
in angst to move away.
Down at my ankles
I saw dirt hands graspin'.
I looked up again
to stun at the approach
of this gleam of a ghost
towering over me
like a hologram
of a past unsealed.
"Hold him!"

Her voice brought tears
to my trembling knees.
Sweetened by a longing
that regret imprisons.
"Hold him!"

I heard of the tale
of a mist in February,
he had gotten out for wood
after a love ruffle
over the frost of the moon
and never was heard off
until this day.

She had lost her might
searching the next nights
until her body gave
still dressed in the gown
she wore back then.

Seems she searches today!

Her lanterns recognized
my understanding gaze.
With a sigh of relief
she crossed through me
leaving a taste
of daturas and moss.

In shivers I woke
and felt your warmth,
so I grabbed it tight,
cautious not
your dream to rob,
laced myself at its side
"I held you!"
while you are mine
to find.

Gentlehawk

Our bodies were carved
from the same ginger clay,
my dents match your protrusions
my lips yours, your fingers mine.

On a starless night
coupling to our desire
the watching moon
cursed our frail figures.

My eyes witnessed
you tossed, curled up
the ripping of your back's marble
and the snow feathers that erupted

Your olive orbs focused
on my glittering legs,
see I was revolving too
in the transforming pains.

See, we were build to fit
even more to complete,
I was sculpted to fall in
the deepest of your chest.

But life grew me gills
and you hollow bones
so I am letting you fly,
refined argil of mine.

We glimpse during twilight
that we used to hold tight.
Oh, just as I was set to fall in.

(inspired by the "Massive attack" psyche and the movie of Ladyhawk)

The shell pendant

The shell hangs on a golden string
asymmetric lines curved together
in the valley that roots my neck
a picture inside I keep on holding.

Cheap cloths on a public beach,
the young us playing catch,
a moment in colors of chess,
caught by a since lost lens.

It holds all those stormy nights
I came to sleep by your side,
all the "how was your day"s
of the greening of the leaves.

The cold of the suns that set
shed of that and other salt
and dried, pressured into pulp
holds the bones in a pole.

Me, a flag to the wind of time
tight to it gaze the reviewer,
it is that shell of once upon
my compass to where I've been.

But the tide keeps at my ankles
resigned to rob under my feet
the desert that there stood
steady as the clock's beat.

The day will come it will win
when of this shell I lose grip
and holding on to a gem
won't brace me for the slip.

Because it is your history
the concrete ground
the future is built upon.

inspired in : 

Your thorn brought in the world

I was hidden inside a cocoon,
color wouldn't breach in
all I saw were the shades
the world made on the walls.

Curious you shook the whole,
as a child would Christmas morn,
a muffled dead echo was all,
but got you to kiss my skin.
Your pointy curved thorn
rubbed my projection screen
and freed me from the gloom
teared the fabric off scene.

My wings liberated to spread
made your eyes bloom.
I cannot understand why
but I filled your blue sky.

All the while your kiss,
it still brings me to tears
as it is ever more dense
with the wet grass scent...
the fountain water splash,
the sparrow wing sound,
the moist of the breeze
from this roses ground.

You bloom in me ever more
more than I thought would fit,
and which is stranger of all
started with a kiss from a rose.

Inspired by:

A day I'll remember

Ten years past, as if it were today.
You waited in that open hallway.
A timid February sun lit the hotel
that morning almost a shell,
offering your hourglass navy blue figure
a center to its stage.

My parents met your planted feet,
hands resting in the side openings
of your fathers thick tailored suit
slightly wider approaching the ground
hints of when disco was in town,
eyes unwavering from my blush
while you x-rayed my resolve,
so they took the lift to the attic.

"Shouldn't you have waited
upstairs with our family?"
I had called to say I was coming.
"Thought we were going together."
A laughter sneaked out my nose
releasing my back bones.

The planning details included a rose
one for each lady with ruby petals
three in my hands with white speckles,
testing of cloths a hundreds,
tasting of foods of wonders,
the white heart shaped cake
with red hearts of almond
but we hadn't discussed
nor had the thought crossed
how we'd behave here after.

Not that it could matter,
I just wanted to dive in
your water green eyes
and anchor there forever.

We took to the hovering box
hand in hand on our own
with that ambient jazz
talking as if we hadn't
about who did what
to get us in there
and all the rushing.
Fitting we'd stand together!

He steadied my hand
as I now trust him to
glittering in sweet anticipation
his turquoises locked my sapphires
and we synched our breathes
in time to hear the arriving ping.

The metal doors opened
a live came this large room
framed by long windows
the salt taste from east
where the waves hit the beach
occupied most of one side,
while small houses and pine
filled the rest and the other.

Lots of chairs were rowed
to witness a table for three
centered by dozen scarlet roses
and with a white paper at hand
an official asked "what would it be?"
we said we'd order a life together
with a side of love and devotion
also adventure to drink
and little was then left to speak.

So on this day of lovers
we tangled our hands
with gold finger bands
and words to hold on forever,
starting a tale written by two.

She has a back bone like none

(Allpoetry image prompt) 

We have all been scarred by life.

Some wear these in plain sight,
they display them in soft sobs
feed them as spicy cookie crosses
and blame them for the tortuous
ways of the lines in their hands.

Some cover them with colorful tunics,
the playful patterns dwell over raw meet
skinned by this melodic charade
of gardens of puppies and kittens
and over sweetened honey teas.

Some stick hard to the bones,
like vines on the worked stone
of an abandoned Victorian house,
the body grows mapping its grooves,
a Gardner's Siamese surgery.

She?

Before the first air stole her cry
her mother shirked at her hold,
what demon had tricked her whom?
The mother drowned in apocalypse now
while her first step got her closer to the door.

Her words as she took to it:
"there is no space in tight shoes
for feet to grow."
And she planted them on her own
on the hardest ground she knew.

She wore now the tattoo on her back,
an uneven waterfall of lumps
that jumped rope her spine childish,
as a testimony to the sturdy scalpels
and the coaching overload of nerves.

The story it told as I traced her naked lines
made all other women shrink
to barbie dolls in dream houses
and her lips had to teach mine to breathe
just to keep me from crying.

Goodbye fleeting river (version2)

A carcass of your touch,
with fresh mint pop gum
A shadow adrift of a cloth
used on the floor hanging to dry.

You came back! Knee on
the stone step of this front porch
as last night on my pillow, vowing...
to stay for good, to make it better.

But... You left!
My thoughts drifted to when you did,
that salted dam released my burden,
I felt the air enclosed in no more.

At last,
my tongue gained ghostly words, its last:
"I am sorry, but I can't... let you in.
I'd love to trust your word, but... I... don't.?!"

So my hand closed
the heavy door of wood
and after facing it motionless
I too... left.

💙 Be my valentine 💕

Yes, I know it is all a ruse
a cynical scheduled snooze
of our daily growing bruise
before yet another noose.

But take my unsteady hand
lock your bright eyes in mine
I need this medicinal hot wine
numbing pause in our ever fight.

Let our worries thus dive
in tomorrow's certain strives
give me the now as prize.

Fill me again, your vessel,
of all for which we duel
let passion flow me through.

If I am taken before, know!

If I leave this earth
robed of the chance
to ease doubtful soul
of the grace you meant.
Stubbornly deaf
to my long rhymes,
uncertain of the truth
within my mood tides.

I try yet once
it is worthy sense
in these humble lines
that you disregard.

I lived no regret
nor dismay of step
and collect no dept
thus leave quite set.
I awaited this day
sweat releasing fay
not meeting halfway
but greeting its say.

I try once more
it is worth for sure
in these honest lines
that you inspired.

Know, when troubled
I found always peace,
your embrace shielded
from out and within.
Not once did you fail
to cast light to my gloom.
Never leveled by feat
to another in the room.

I try once again
it is worth to mend
in these plain lines
that you'll require.

You were an anchor
to this simple bliss
that has been breath
while breath-taking.
You were ever more
than I could sigh for.
You were ever there
whenever I could care.

I try once anew
it is worth, so true,
in these easy lines
that you deserve.

If I part content,
in swift a blink
or in pain extent,
and trust me, I do.
The size of heart
dreams and the path,
are then owing to you
and the seeds we grew.

Ultimatum

You punched deep!
You knew you would
you aimed at it to
and you struck me.

You wanted change!
Desperate for hope
that together fate
'd be in your stroke.

So much we made,
So much triumph,
So much we shared.
Did it mean the same?
You casually chattered
the illusion of cheer.
As if what mattered
was piercing my ear.

You wouldn't  bother
considering the bruises.
And you didn't offer
any solution or truces.

You would reduce
all we've been through
to waist and sewer
because it didn't fill you.

Years I've invest
in me and you.
Years I've given
all that I could.

Since, we've been
flammable and fragile.
So we're in a tantrum,
impossible to handle.

I don't want to lose
my perfect man,
I just don't own
happiness for both.

So I will follow you
to where you decide,
I will change our life
according to your cries.

But I will not stay
becoming your pain,
we will not be reason
to your dreams failure.

We cannot be enough!
Of that you were clear.
Never intended we'd be
but feed your spirit.

If you can't depend on us
to improve your days
there's nothing to do
we are but through.

True valentine

It is a time to celebrate
hang heart shaped balloons
bake strawberry-choco cakes
behave as love drunk fools.

To collect all these years
of dedication to another
draw out fanciest ornaments
praises to our accomplishments.

To overlook all the pain
involved in compromising
and contemplate faith.

Faith in you and us, that
tomorrow will better today
as yesterday wanted still.

Ten years of marriage ⚭

Ten years of marriage.

Dreamed by your side, woken laid you by,
cried to your face,
puke and fesses
left me no grace.

Blessed were we twice,
ugly divine creation.
Fortunate even more times
than we dare to mention.

We built on as hard a rock
as we could phantom.
We collected springs
and winters in measure.

Faced as unity would
dreadful pranks of fate,
unshakable in embrace.

Felt your sour rage
felt the sourest rage
as despair and disgrace.

Knowing to trust
our devotion to us
made our love prevail.


Not that love of poetry
but that of every day,
tougher and truer.

Whisper of a crushed heart

Oh, whisper of a crushed heart!
That weeping of hidden tears...
That numbing of bleeding ears...
That deafening silent scream.

When the eyes lose their light,
piercing unfocused this realm.
When the hands tremble uneven,
craving even the power of rage.

Wobbling legs deliver reticent
in an mechanical movement
that hides the vacuum inside.

Shattered scattered valves,
ashes of a driving flame,
spirit souvenirs of this frame.

Miss an ear 👂

I need peace!
I need a shoulder to cry, and allow to wet my eyes.
I need a solder to sit on and be lost on the embrace of.
But mostly I really really really need an attentive ear.

I forgo desire!
I don't want to be fixed, found or flattered.
I can live with all spines around this world.
But I get lost in the vacuum of emptiness.

I need to let "I" go!
but in order for me to do so I need you
to put me somewhere on your list.

I miss "us".
The us that fit, that conversed, that reasoned.
I miss mattering to someone other than me.

words you will never find the time to read

When I was born I had no concept of male or female, or man or woman. Then I grew up and I had cousins, we played together and enjoyed very much until they found out that I was a girl and that that somehow meant I wasn't supposed to play the same way, the same games or get interested in the same fun. I noticed that my father would refuse giving me girlish presents since he abominated the idea of a girlish girl, so I got a remote controlled car instead of a Barbie I asked for. But then the car was set aside since I didn't drive it well enough and it could get damaged. I got painting tools I loved and once in a while the lack of time to find the perfect gift and the pressure to not disappoint would force him to gift me with beautifying stuff, and the word stuff would be heart felt by his spirit. On the other hand whenever there was anything less girlish needing doing I was suddenly a nuisance who's help was worth less than the effort to explain, after all what would be the use for a girl to know how to hammer or tighten screws?

I spent my life on a limbo, more of a Tom than most girls, more of girl than most Toms. I found out there was a place in such limbo and I could define it. I liked sports, but not watching them. I liked dancing but not beautifying a room. I liked math's, which I always felt was a male characteristic of mine and I loved painting and dancing which I felt was more of a female characteristic. Determined to prove that I could as good as a man on a men's world I opted for math's and the most likely area to produce a job that would allow me to sustain my family. Yes, I didn't mind being taken care of, but I needed to know I could do it just as well.

That is how I meat you. Careless about your looks you vainly paraded your ideas and showed off your dominance in the hardest subjects. You said you thought you found your match in me, that I could actually be smarter in ways. I thought I found my match, the one smarter than me. We thought in similar ways, we used the same words and laughed at each other's jokes.

I came from a broken heart, determined to change my ways. I settled for someone that would need to put his career first, because he was such a good company. I didn't mind doing most of the house work, it wasn't much more than I would do for me alone and I loved talking while at it, the constant challenging ideas and sharing of philosophies. Time moved fast, faster than I had expected. When the time came to make our family, I knew that wasn't your priority and I tried to thank you the chance by taking as much of the responsibility as I could handle. But being a mother is not easy, and my boy wasn't either. So in time I needed your help and started to hate when you would work strange hours with little efficiency to aim at your goals. I tried to give you all the freedom, to find the best path to your career, but you snarled at any suggestion and asked me to give you more time instead. You pulled away to focus on a difficult and competitive area and the more you gave the less you seemed to be getting there. All seemed to work against you, the timing, the area of expertise, the supervisor, the fact that you were not alone and easy to up and leave if need be.

I fought you to get a second child, convinced that it would take at least two to make a family and that I could handle it too. But I had aa hard pregnancy and needed more and more help. I saw the fact that you now took charge of getting our first born to bed as a sign that you two were getting some important bonding time and you were helping in a very nice way. I kept trying to keep a float, a job, a kid and soon a baby. Now you tell me how incredibly low on my priorities you are, and that that would alone prevent you from following your dream. I was so mad at you! I have been trying my limit for almost 4 years now, have been doing everything for other 6 and you blame me for not reaching as far as you need to be who you set out to be? But I guess it is true. I asked kids of you when I knew you needed to reach for the stars and then I needed you to cover for me more often than I could anticipate. I always thought time was a ticking on my side, because I am a woman and I neglected to compensate how much it floods you with the impossibility to find your goal. I am not sure what I could have done different, certain I couldn't have done more and worried I needed your acknowledgement because all this straining of myself would have been in vane otherwise.

I hate you right now, you selfish self-centered ungrateful man, that make me feel like my best is never enough when I am giving to work like a man, to my children like a mother and to you as a wife as much as I can manage, when maybe you needed someone single that could follow you and marvel at your genius and provide some magic to your path. You make me feel sorry that I am only human and yet you love me, and know I love you, know your words cut that much deeper and your pains resonate that much stronger in me.

There is no point in keeping this letter as a draft, the chances that you would care enough to read my blog are slim and I am the one that doesn't love you enough to support you in your ambitions? I am lost, for what is worst is that after all I will only be left with a wounded heart and two brilliant children on their way to their life.

How to save us

How can time change everything so deeply,
in a passive progressive corrosion,
and how can I bring it all back but
without losing the immense I got from it?

You were my person, the one for me.
You understood me to a level that even I
found surprisingly a challenge to match.
You tried hard and I thought us alike.


You got my jokes, you laughed at them.
You heard my ideas and considered them.
I was complex and pleasingly divergent.

You don't listen, you don't see, you don't care.
You get frustrated, stunned when I disagree.
I no longer know how to reach you.

Whole again

Make me whole again,
take back that doubt
you left lurking about
when you blamed us.

Make me whole again,
unsay the words barked
in fluid tempered callous
aimed to this open heart.

Untaint the skies,
from gray threats
of heavy rupture.

Appease the seas,
that hastily shove
ancientest pillars.

Goodbye fleeting river

Soft echo of my own thoughts,
Cool drops rolling down my cheeks,
Shortness of air released through
Tight throat with a sore voice.

You were back answering my pleads,
you knelled on this front porch
as I dreamed, vowing to make it better,
to stay for good, to make me well.

My thoughts drifted to when you left,
that salted dam released my burden of love,
the air was enclosed in angst no more.

My tongue gained ghostly words, its last:
"I am sorry, but I can't... let you in.
I'd love to trust you again, but I don't."