Turn over and sleep.

For all the promises made,
And all declared vows to keep,
When need arises to prove –
Just turn over and sleep.

With all the blood that rushes
In to wounds that run so deep;
When hopeful chance comes to heal,
Just turn over and sleep.

As a heartache comes coursing,
Forcing one to lay and weep,
When gentlest words are needed –
Just turn over and sleep.

Maybe it is all karmic:
One sows in order to reap;
So, when harvest comes calling,
You must turn over and sleep.

The Trend.

I watched the waves.
They crashed into the rocks.
A done-to-death metaphor.

I saw the foam stick.
I saw the spray hit the air.
While you slept.
Blissful.
The trend of all lovers.
Once the passion is dead.

The sea will recede.
The rocks at least have faith.
The sea will return.

I walk back home.
To my side of the bed.
Sleepless and faithless.

They Warn Me

They warn me I speak too much of my heart:
I am too vocal about what I think:
I mention every thought right at its start:
Way before the mind and heart form a link.
They say I am too childlike and confess
All that I know; let my truth rule my voice;
And let my conscience turn its duress,
On certainties, both traumatic and nice.

I know not what power compels me so,
To hone neither tact nor diplomacy;
I love, I laugh, I cry, I feel, I show –
I may do it all quite complacently.
No burden of regret makes me believe;
I go on wearing my heart on my sleeve

OLD FRIEND

I have nothing else to say to you now.
I have nothing more to offer or give.
I have spent my heart, I have kept each vow.
You forget all and I cannot forgive.
The torture of the heart (and there is one)
Is akin to a murder by drowning;
And all that was felt and said and done
Is now a matter for blackened mourning.
Words, like gales, seem to rush past as you leave,
Feelings, however, will not leave with you;
I have lost my faith, I cannot believe,
I cannot discern just which past was true.
And so, old friend, you have prepared me well:
I doubt heaven, I’m undaunted by hell.

Mine

if you show me your wet mouth
if you open it and speak
if you plant a seedy doubt
in this heart so strangely weak

then your mouth shall be taken
by this tongue that forgives time
and your heart will awaken
and beating shall become mine

Vow

I have taken you these fifteen years hence
To be whatever it is we have here:
A lover, spouse, friend, brother, recompense –
To have and hold so infinitely near.

I have taken you when poor and when rich,
Revelled in your health and embraced you sick,
I’ve ignored your eye, unravelled each glitch,
I have brought you love and I made it stick.

From that September, to this day forward,
I’ve taken your better, suffered your worse,
I’ve fought against despair; I’ve been your ward
And trekked through many a wish and a curse.

I persist to offer this ruined heart,
‘Til death doth, consenting, force it to part.

Our first meeting

For you, heartbreaker, I bear no ill will,
I know somewhere in your heart, I rest still;
And though you left me, with sudden goodbye,
With no chance to embrace or a good cry,
These are moments you have snatched from my fate,
That leaves us torn but with no scope to hate.
I saw you and felt the touch you gave me,
Through askance eye you so questioned to see;
You stood so near and yet so very far;
I could not begin to know who you are.
I do not know if wounding me was meant,
I only took what you willingly sent.
If hurt was your intent, I shall receive;
But in what slight manner did I deceive?
To partake you so close yet so remote,
In my agony, did I feel you gloat?
Your soft hair I couldn’t run through my fingers;
Yet the brand of you terribly lingers!
For you, heartbreaker, I bear no ill will;
I know you sit somewhere and read this still.