They tell you when you're young
that you don't know what love is.
Maybe they're right
because it took heartbreak
for me to finally understand what I need.
I don't just want to be loved.
I want to be yearned for.
I want someone who chooses me
without needing a list of possibilities
waiting behind my back.
I don't want to feel like an option
because someone can't find enough
in one person to be satisfied.
Because when I love,
I don't leave pieces of myself
in other people's hands.
I give one person my whole heart.
I want that same devotion returned.
I want someone who misses me
when I'm gone,
who feels my absence,
who doesn't constantly wonder
if something better is waiting somewhere else.
I've spent too much of my life
feeling like I was almost enough.
Almost chosen.
Almost worth staying for.
And I'm done with almost.
I don't need someone
who can tolerate my depth.
I need someone who craves it.
Someone who looks at me and thinks,
“I don't need anyone else.
I found what I was looking for.”
Because I don't want to compete
for a place in someone's heart.
I want to be chosen so completely
that there is nowhere else I'd rather be.
Swept clear to the horizon
Summer day's hazy
Of tree and habitation
The one yearned for view.
Gives, as it does, free access
If but musefully
To whom, afar, regardless
Will be lost. Adieu!
I sit engulfed in silence.
I lie alone in the immutable dark.
Despondent or merely lazy? Just what am I?
Poetic ideas are empty, my pen is still,
I try to write about my emotions.
Nothing emerges. There’s only emptiness.
For all around is hushed and all is dead.
How oft have I yearned for poetry?
How oft had I dreamt I am wallowing
In perfect tranquillity?
Sleep brings with it a ghastly dream,
Going through a portal grey
Into a swirling, ugly, evil fog
Of another time, another world.
Hush, sirens sing a ghastly lyric.
My mind is roped against a mast.
I pass into a shadowy glade
And walk upon a pebbled path,
No footstep resounds back to me
No living thing is seen around.
Lightening snakes amongst the clouds
I expect thunder but hear none,
I see the water fall o'er the brink
No roar registers in my mind.
I wake, I sweat from brow to toe,
I try to rhyme; I try free verse.
I shiver in the heat of muted night.
I wander around my chambers,
Noiseless rooms, devoid of life.
I roam amongst my memories,
Pain grips fast my mourning soul,
Then, unashamed, I weep
And yearn......
Just for an epic poetry.
Placed 2
The departure is all I know.
Its familiarity is embedded in the sadistic comedy of my consciousness.
Its affection is engraved in the intimate deception of my own searing flesh.
Its practice plays on a loop in the fond erraticism of my haste.
The malice kisses my tears as it spits salt into my sores.
The isolation tends to my methodical mourn of a mockery.
The reassurance of my ruin strokes my hair; a reminder of my rational wreckage.
The impulsive denial of my fate lingers in the darkness of my preordained doom.
The doom of my dread.
The doom of my denial.
The doom of my destiny.
The deliberate descent into the dusk holds me hostage.
The eerie malevolent vines of its malign wrap around my vindictive matter.
It squeezes until I drip with the decay of my own skin-swallowing dejection.
The white of its teeth gleam at me, gasping in my reluctant pleas of sojourn.
The rot fuses with the warmth of my blood and the salt of my sweat.
This is the end I yearned for.
This is the termination I yearned for.
This is the finale I yearned for.
Calculated.
Segregated.
Anticipated.
The doom of my departure.
He spoke of angels and demons,
Obsessed with supernatural beings and terrors.
In hopes to discover their wings and horns,
To know why angels have light,
and demons embody the dark.
Blinded by the urge to claim an angel's glorious heart,
He neglected the living and breathing,
And yearned for the warriors of heaven & protectors of hell.
I bared my divine soul—take it all, I told him.
His eyes crinkled in disgust.
My soul looked damaged, not fit for an angel,
And too clean for a demon.
He claimed I was neither,
He aimed for the soul of either.
My back, bruised from the weight of broken wings, ached.
My scalp, still sore from silver strands torn away, burned.
My eyes, now black and blue, leaked of tears—
They used to be gold.
The stranger dismissed me,
Off to enchant an angel, to steal their soul.
Why search for it, when I offer you mine for free?
the surgeon cut me open,
he took a step back, in awe, frozen
the surgeon mumbled with a astonished look
“wow…this is perfect, i mean…absolutely textbook”
the room filled with doctors nodded in agreement
my spirit watching from above felt seen,
as if it was some kind of achievement
that statement resonated with my soul
it stitched every broken part of me whole
it felt like the kind of love i’ve yearned for
as all eyes were on me like fine art hung carefully in a museum,
and i hovered above weightless filled with freedom,
i finally felt fulfilled, despite the source
all while looking at my half alive corpse
He held her memory fiercely dear
away at war these long-lost years
Her haloed hair, her velvet touch
he yearned for them so very much
So sweetly did she sing his given name
what he wouldn’t give to hear its strain…
While as she called him night and day
no flood of tears could wash her love away...
Though it was surely true what some dared say
a flame enclosed her as she prayed
Twin snowflakes dance in soft pink skies,
lovers who yearned for their garden,
a bed of blue roses and black sunflowers rising.
A cottage stronghold against harsh winters.
Beyond the walls of the warm sky,
an evil presence from Crescent Moon’s eye.
Envious of warmth and quiet shadows,
it lingers over the hidden sanctuary.
A pale glow splits the silent sky,
light that burns and hollows the dark,
harsh beams overheat the sacred garden,
dead petals tossed in raging winds.
The lovers mourn what cannot last,
they weep until the edge of dawn,
above them, the Crescent Moon looms over—
watching what it has undone.
For how many Sabbaths we waited and prayed
To see his redemption before us displayed
We yearned for his mercy, and begged Him with tears
To see the Messiah come now, in our years
For we have inherited unending hope
A promise passed down and confirmed by God’s oath
That to Abram’s children a Savior would come
One greater than David, yet called David’s son
Here out with the sheep God has placed in our care
His glory came down—caught our hearts unaware
We all were afraid, but the angels sent joy
In small Beit-Lechem had been born a small boy
The promised Messiah had finally come
God’s grace and perfection revealed in the Son
In awestruck delight we all hastened to go
And see what this was that the Master made known
And there was the baby, laid down in the trough
He lifted His voice, and we heard His first cough
We knew God was with us—that there was our King
The hope of millennia our eyes have seen
A time for us
when love had bloomed its fragrant scent
to fill our world with tender themes
Where tears could fall in each other's hands
in timeless moments that we confessed
Like peaceful doves that came to rest
When breath was warm upon our cheeks
and filled our souls with endless days
giving comfort true beneath skies of blue
To be two lovers who yearned for love
Before the sun rose with its light
on a day that turned so dark
To leave cold ashes, deep in my heart
Why yearned for something you pushed away.
Why yearned for something you cannot have.
Why yearn for the world when you pushed your world away
Clyde yearned for a kiss 'neath the mistletoe
But not a gal took notice of his woe
The ladies just tittered
As by him they skittered
His fly was unzipped and ALL was aglow
Throat parched, yearned for water,
Tongue stuck to His dry mouth;
Thirsty to do God's will,
The Lord died on the cross,
Thwarting devil's intents
To hinder salvation;
That day, He pined, for me.
My dearest consort dived into the sea,
He found me as a lotus-shaped pearl.
I was born from a shell of oceanic beauty.
Brightly glowing, I transformed into a girl.
My dearest consort carried me to shore,
He lovingly stared into my watering eyes,
"I longed for you, so I waited years more,"
I spoke before he kissed my lips by surprise.
My dearest consort spoke to me tenderly,
"I knew I'd find you again sooner or later,"
As he says how he always yearned for me.
Now all I want is for us to last forever.
My dearest consort lays with me in the sand,
Feeling waves as we hold each other closely.
I'm slowly recalling my lives in his homeland,
As my heart is opening like a shell in the sea.
The Cold Facts of Life**
In her own eyes, she was a flawless woman, embodying grace and beauty so perfectly that many around her often mistook her for a goddess, revered by those less privileged. Yet, beneath this polished exterior lay a vulnerable heart, one that yearned for genuine connection. It was during a picturesque summer at Lake George, with its shimmering waters and enveloping nature, that the man of her dreams swept into her life like a tempest. He stole away her innocence, submerging her in the cold depths of the lake, both physically and emotionally, leaving her feeling heavy with the weight of lost virtue.
As she reflected on her experiences, it became painfully clear that too often, shadows obscure our true vision. Infatuation, with its thrilling highs and intoxicating allure, had led her to confuse mere attraction with real love. Now, standing at a crossroads, she recognized the irony of being impeccable yet careless. Through her journey, she transformed into a living testament to the harsh realities of love, confronting the cold facts that life had laid before her.
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