Another of those very rare dreams about you last night
Let me be clear, this isn’t me pining, not in the least
It does strike me as rather sad though
Two people who once had so much to say to each other
Can’t find it in their hearts to observe even the social courtesies
Using technology instead of words
Maintaining the most tenuous of connections
Where once the sound of each other’s voices
Was the only sound our hearts could hear
13 August 2017
I can always tell when you’re off on another trip
To places I only dream of with the woman you call wife
You disappear for a standard period of time a week sometimes more
Or visiting virtually from a locale whose beauty takes my breath away
There is no rancor and only a trace of bitterness, honestly
You regret your choice but only sometimes. I’ve heard it before
This is how you prove to me that you don’t love me
To forever exclude me from what truly matters in life
If you will not share the simplest of things with me
Dining in public, visiting your parents, children
You do not love me and words will not change that
Love isn’t simply a feeling
It’s everything that you do
If you will not share your life
She retains the best of you
1 February 2016
Just some old thoughts rolling around, not the present. ~k
Misty morning has broken
My world is wet with tears
Though I move forward
I cannot fight my fears
The ground beneath shakes
Change comes it’s inevitable
Mustering courage and trust
Covering pain that’s unbearable
Poetry is hard today… My world is shifting faster than I can keep up with.
Making sense of this forced change, if sense can be had; is just so damn hard.
I think I’ll leave my umbrella at home… No one will notice my tears.
22 April 2014
National Poetry Writing Month
See more at the link above.
It is so much easier for one to stand on principle,
When one is in possession thereof…
~ Karin Bole Tupper ~
I’m praying for a thunderstorm
To wash your taint from my body
Praying for lightning
To burn your image from my eyes
Wishing for thunder
To drown out the sound of you lies
God please… give me a storm
26 February 2014
It’s all too easy these days…
To put on Lana’s haunting version of “Once upon a Dream”
~ Aurora is my Disney princess
To put on a long white dress and pull out my wedding album
~ My real dress is long gone
To curl up around what was my life on the cold wood floor
~ Do I deserve a more comfortable bed?
I deserve nothing more than these endless days and black empty nights
I want to fall asleep in this nightmare that I created
And wake up in the life that I tossed away for nothing
Or never wake up again
Led astray by the beautiful eyes of a basilisk
Beguiled by promises
Betrayed by illusions
While my mind replays, replays, replays
“You’ll love me at once, the way you did once, upon a dream…”
5 February 2014
For Bastet’s Pixelventures Prompt 28 January 2014: “In a word show me something worth saving.”
This is what I think may be a slightly different take on the something worth saving theme.
Intangibles worth saving captured in a photo and not everything worth saving… can be.
I never wrote for you
This is something that I only noticed recently
When that disquiet in my mind finally formed itself into the thought
I felt terrible
Terrible has become an everyday way for me to feel
This was worse than that
On the heels of the realization came also the images of what we have been
Of what we are not
I wondered to myself if maybe I didn’t write for you because we were both too busy living a real life
Retrospect tells me now that you showed your love in so many small ways that perhaps weren’t flowery or poetical but they were real and to this very moment, I can see the evidence of how you cared
I will never stop feeling guilty and ashamed for having allowed my own frustrated dreams to take me away from a place where we might have found our way back to each other
I made my choice at that crossroad and the Devil found me
Now I can say that I have written something for you. I only wish that it wasn’t an obituary for what was once you and me.
29 October 2013
I went searching again trying to find him.
A sign, a symbol any hint to tell me that my effort was worth it. Instead, all I see is a distant emptiness. I see loneliness and someone who has made coldness a friend for too long. I couldn’t help but wonder what has made him this way. Who had keeping of his heart and broke it along with her promises? Who is the one who has left him but isn’t really gone?
I’ve seen her once and in her photo, she’s perfect. Is she the one who haunts him now and taunts me with the indelible print of distrust she’s left on his brain? He is so aloof, so detached even in moments when his words are so passionate.
Meanwhile, I am here, too real, too close, too me. I shouldn’t compare myself to a photograph. The difference between is too great and I feel tears gather and I let them fall quietly as I look at the memories of he and me.
I know he’s sorry. Sorry for hurting me, for not letting go of the past, even ours, sorry for coming back when he knew it wasn’t really what he wanted. It was something we both knew from that last conversation but never acknowledged.
Now I’m stuck in this place, continuing to pick at this scar he’s reopened. Still trying to live up to what he used to think of me. Falling far short of what I thought I should be. Left without explanation or the anticipation for a what we might be.
All I ever hoped was that one day, we’d have our second chance. That one day I would be real enough for you.
I’m sorry that you were disappointed.
27 January 2014