all the scars that you carry
from all the years of your life
are tender again
soft, painful lines across your body that you offer your lover
and, yes, i guess you can feel the soothing
warmth of his touch
that seems to steal your loneliness
and desperation away
you stagger into romance
with an undying hope
that every new champion will be your last
that this incarnation will be the final hero of honesty
the man who steps from the sorrow
of his own desperate life
and brings you salvation
in an unselfish commitment
to all that is you
i offer no excuses
for being incomplete
for failing to listen to your every wish and warning
i simply could not offer any more than i did
and so i accept my place in your history
the target of your disappointment
an ominous shadow that encumbers your life
confirming, i suppose, what you feared most
that love changes and passes
and does not conquer time
that despite all your dreaming
or hopeful disregard
i let you down unconditionally and sent you to another
i wish i could be closer to you
hold you in my arms
and protect you from every hurricane of emotion
but you have taken other shelter
where you wait and pray that this uncertain storm of passion
will somehow be transformed into a rainbow of promise
that you have painted for all the world to see
and now no matter what i say
no matter what i do
this new scar remains
and i am only sad not for what is lost
but for the simple fact that
you may only remember the experience of our love
and never have guessed its meaning
Nice dispatch and this fill someone in on helped me alot in my college assignement. Thank you on your information.
ReplyDeleteSometimes you don't know what you have gained from loving someone. The meaning and the lesson of this love escapes you. But the only thing you know is that the need for anyone else is what you have lost for ever, irrevocably...
ReplyDeleteA very beautiful poem, Kennedy James...
Dive in already:
ReplyDeleteyou know you’ve been standing
too long
in the rising naked sun,
whose hard heat has
swindled your ferry toll and
pocketed the change.
Yet, still you stand on the cushioned shore
with your buried burnt feet
stuck within a damp sand salve
and your arms raised as if in farewell
(but really to shade your squinted eyes
that strain to see the glint of tin
that once winked on the watery western horizon).
Dive in already,
and soothe the phantom ache
of the red cross
that glares from your plush chest
amidst the shrapnel scars of your mother’s
and each past lover’s
fleeting smiles.
Dive in already,
and flip quickly onto your back;
become your own raft
and scrawl not across but through the surface
of a flippant sea
before you become an old man
who laments the loss of an
alleged big fish almost caught.