Old Soldiers And Fallen Angels

I’m Canadian and observe Remembrance Day on November 11 each year. I was engaged to an American who served and I had got in the habit of posting my personal observances on Memorial Day and Veteran’s Day. This 25th of May will mark the one year interval since his death and my former wedding anniversary… lots of memories. So, one last time.

Once upon a time, I loved a soldier…

His topaz eyes turned to me, dusty
In the middle of the blazing desert
Pleading for the coolness
Of the rain I couldn’t make fall
Onto the furnace raging in his soul
And all around him
While the bombs fell and ghosts disguised
As comrades lay down in the burning sand
With all his hopes and dreams
And I felt his hold slipping, losing grip
From a thousand miles away
Felt his sanity slip… Calling me
Over the sound of a world exploding
I could taste copper in my mouth
And the blood in my eyes obscured
The river where we had lain so long ago
The green grass under my naked back
His hips held tight entwined in my thighs
Those eyes and blue skies
Helicopter rotor, bombs, mortars
I felt him slip away from me and into
The lying arms of baked, sere ground
The ringing in my ears was a dirge
Moaning my name and I came
To cover his body with green
With my riverbanks and oceans
And dreams of what we should have been
I have sung him home to my arms
To hold him here in the last breath
Of these old and aching lungs
And I will happily relinquish this breath
To hold his hand again, to run
To jump into the cold water
Hold his perfect body close to mine
Just one more time
On riverbanks of green

© Karin Bole Tupper
23 November 2012

pf beret flash bad boy smoking 2013

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All That Remains

I still struggle with unresolved feelings
Anger, Disbelief, Loss, Grief
Gradually, these are being replaced
Time, the gentle healer works magick
My twin-spirited Poet, you lost the battle
Your inner darkness was too strong
Misunderstood, others helped it flourish
Good and evil, charming and cruel
So desperate for love, so destructive with it
I find that I mourn for both of you

The man you wanted the world to see
The man who desperately clung to me

My lover who was a stranger
Who gambled and lost with danger

Unpacking the detritus of my old life
I come across these trinkets and mementos
They don’t hurt me anymore
In fact, I’m glad to have them
They remind me of the other man
The better man
The one you said you wanted to be
Your half of you and me
Gone with the doppelgänger
That the world knew
Inextricably, one and the same
I mourn both the men
Who had one name…

~ kei
11 May 2015

Happy 55th Birthday Peter. Some things cannot be erased but resolution and forgiveness can come from the most unlikely sources and when we need it most…

All That Remains ©Karin Bole Tupper

All That Remains
©Karin Bole Tupper

Perversity In Poetry

I’ve tried to write this so many times, fingers are willing but the mind declines

To open up this locked place inside of me, seems to be the height of perversity

Laid bare once again, will I fall apart? Can I endure the pain of my own beating heart?

Words tease my thoughts in fragments, images torture my body in their completeness

The unfairness of it all assails me again, that even in “death” you can transcend

My every wall, my anger, tears, angry fists; with just your gentle eyes, a brush of kiss

Don’t do it! Don’t make me feel! I DO NOT WANT TO FEEL!!

I have chosen to be frozen. I choose to not speak the words. I don’t speak them, I don’t write them anymore. My eyes skitter away from them in the works of others. I have had success in chasing them from my thoughts and from my memories. Frozen. Unfeeling.

Safe in this cocoon of pseudo-chastity. Safe in euphemisms and bland phrases of sanitized poetry.
Safe.
At least until this morning, when I woke and you were next to me.

I did not give you permission to invade my home, my heart, my head and I’m quite certain that I let you know you’re not welcome in my bed. Poetry… More poetry… My Wildman Poet is here with me.

You speak my body in words it knows and I feel reserve melting… the words… dance on the tip of my tongue… dare I write them here to be seen by anyone?

How perfectly ridiculous, how utterly perverse
That my Muse is ever with me, in “death” still haunts my every verse

Cradled in your arms, the warmth of your breath on my neck. One big hand drapes my body and cups my breast. Your thighs hug the back of mine, cold from the night air still, your semi gently insisting, warming… this body is melting… from the inside out… I warm as quickly as ever. Even in sleep, I’m amazed that the tickle of your beard at the back of my neck is so soft… and thoughts explode at contrasts of heat and cold, softness and strength… liquid silk and your tongue… I… don’t… want… to… feel… but I do. How you marvel at my small feet and worship the backs of my knees. How you bend me to your will and my only coherent word is “please”.

My hands and fingers know every angle of you, your broad shoulders, slim hips, the slick feel of our mingled sweat on your belly and thighs… do that again… that sound… that growl… when I pull your hair and catch your lip in my teeth… bourbon and Marlboros… liquid courage… Say my name… like that… like a cry… a command… a sigh. Handle me, make me, take me… and this… just this… my arse pressed against your hips… the sweetest slip… my hands pinned in yours… hours… hours… Passion, power, a battle fought and lost and I revel in my relinquishing… A raging volcano manifested in the arctic wasteland that was my body scant hours ago. Rescued from the Pompeiian stone that enveloped me when you went away… finally falling, drifting… back to sleep.

Waking to stare at this wraith on my pillow. The curve of your lip, the scent of you on my skin, your dark hair in tousled waves on my pillow. A wraith, a ghost and yet not… I can taste the salty spill of you in my mouth still and I am sore and spent, sated.

A willing prisoner to the memory of

You.

~ kei
8 April 2015

Originally posted on “Eclectic Unconfined”

Burn Baby Burn

How many degrees to burn you out of the heart of me?

Seven Hundred sixty degrees? Nine hundred eighty?

Charred hopes, drifting embers of dreams…

And when your bones split and turned to ashes

Crumbling onto white unforgiving ceramic

Did what was contained within fly free?

Released for all Eternity…

For last night in fevered dreams the North wind howled

A familiar wolf song it seemed

Stealing in through the cracks of my consciousness

A swirl of stardust, your precious essence

Whispering “I love you”

A cherished spark landing

Upon smouldering tinder

Inside the soul of me…

~ kei

20 February 2015

I Know You Loved Me

I know it as well as I know the lines on my palm or the taste of your kisses…

I wish that I’d had the power to unbreak you

Before the slime slithered in and shattered our world

I’m still mad – you don’t get off that easy

But…

The key is in the same place

Goodnight Boo

Love – or something like it, Princess

 

Her Muse

I know you are not gone

Your presence lingers here

Clinging

Like the scent of Marlboro’s

To this battered leather jacket

Like autumn’s last leaf

Bravely waving in the wind

Like the ghost of your lips

Pressed to my collarbone

Insistent

Do not forget, I live here yet

In the turn of a page, in a turn of phrase

In this muse’s deepest heart

I know you’ve yet to depart

For I still still feel you slipping through my veins, smoke curled essence of you curls round my brain and you never did say goodbye so I’ll hold fast and will not cry

Because

I know you are not gone

~ kei

19 November 2014

Bleddyn and Sleeping kateri

Of A Feather

Listening to the song of cardinals reminded you of me
They trilled in my garden and sang in your bougainvillaea
Your heart was healing and you were ready to fly
Soaring on the strength of the love between you and I

You rushed out into the bright, beckoning sky to soar
For a time, it was so beautiful, to watch you in flight
But bright plumage attracts others both friend and foe
Once the vultures had begun to circle, they wouldn’t go

Intent on only taking, they stole in darkness and in lies
Your dark confusion returned, I could see you’d lost your way
Their theft left you adrift in air streams with no way back
Not one cared that they’d stolen your heart and soul’s map

But has come a gentle white dove to my world of dark
Gifting me with an olive branch that tastes of your kisses
Though eons pass until this phoenix heart is ready again for the sky
The kindness of one among the many, gives me reason to wish to try

~ kei
16 October 2014

Kateri, Bleddyn and Cardinal