In the dimly lit street
a rusty blade in hand
my aorta throbs
in the endless torture
of forever alone
waiting for Our Lady
to illuminate the
I see it in your eyes, he said,
suspiciously, I glanced –
perhaps a piece of my soul slipped out?
In my head, under the Eiffel tower
Parisian lights polluted the Seine river
reflecting the lovers here before;
blinding our histories – fresh air accosted
every sense, the limited space between our bodies
grew hope, love fragrant in the night air.
Another dime store prince
living in a nineteenth century
Empty aluminium clamours in the night.
He’d already packed my things
but wanted my truths.
Frozen by fear, my truths are muted,
frost bitten, one more hurt
under the avalanche of snow.
The reflection of the city night, questions:
But in a world full of nows
there are no answers
and my dime store prince, so gentle,
so adamant to protect his solitary fortress –
he fears spending what he has not got
I wish this might have ended
different to the rest.
Motionless from the view of your soul,
disguised in pain, waiting for the knock
of my heart at your door.
Should you open – I might listen
to your stories, if you listen to mine
we can put this world to right.
How romantic it sounds: naked love,
a timeless collapse of you and me
indefinite in a wild undercurrent.
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,600 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 43 trips to carry that many people.
Originally posted on L.J. Lenehan:
On my path, it rains,
my dry skin moisturized.
For the first time, I stop,
observing the bend up the way,
inhaling the fragrant orchard bloom
I try to understand, how I never noticed
the bloom of thistles, water lilies,
dog rose, blue bells, dragonflies.
My steps are overwhelmed
by the need not to move, conflicted
by what lies up ahead, predators in between
lie each side in wait, to take:
my limbs, my children, my life.
I shake with the weight of my little chest
that holds within it a golden soul,
ready to shine.
My heart, the elephant
of my fate, broken and painful
stumbling through this journey,
without a herd,
without a lover,
I walk through hot coals laid for me
by you, singing my skin, you stare,
until I burn, you turn and go.
But I am the strength
I need in your aftermath
to rise again.