Future atonementfor the aloneness,but the clockin need of winding --or rather, un --for me to cope withwhat I’ve become.-------------------------
Cajole my soul,oh worthy man,to touch this worldwith my own hand.You accept so easilya fate obscure,and give so readilyto one insecure.Your truth is softand will not wreakhavoc on a heartconditioned to be meek.But the quiet of such glorydoes confuseand the passivityof your stanceI must accuse.The ease with which you areI cannot guaranteewill ever come to me.----------------
Redemption
Sad, shadow questionsthrob througha suddenly abysmal universe.Yesterday's paincuts, crushes, drains.How camesome savage, blame-shaming harpyto subjugate my mind, devour my heart,drive me to blind, hard crying?Pitiful.The pit I fill.With tortured tears I createmy own Redemptive Lakewhere at last I can beginthe sacred silent swimto Self.Where the sky will absorb meinto a sun-bright moment of hope,where a heart renewed innocentreturns eager to cope.-------------------
College Honeymoon With Self
Stately treesnod their good will.A breezetenderly pushes heracross the great, greensloping lawn.Dormitory mansionsunobtrusive at luxurious distancesoffer solace
of solidity and easy grandeur.
She positions her shouldersand backagainst a noble treewhose radiating armsuphold a great blue bowl of sky.Here she intendsto commune with the likes ofWordsworth, Woolf, Hardyor even the great William S.with only the occasional flyor antto break her trance.
But shimmering green leaveswhisper their secrets.A lone birdcuts and curves its complaintacross the sky.The sun intrudes through a leafy curtain,kissing her facewith light and heatlike an overzealous petnot to be denied.
She closes her eyes and savors the warmth.The moment.The paradise.-----------------------------
HOME
is where the heart is,is where I fall apart, isa placethat suffocates,clips my wingswith frustration and love,is where I cannot bethe meI amat this point in life,have got to be niceto a role that is token,the rules never spokenbut we all knowI never got permissionto grow.I am still complyingby imperfectly lying,allowing the ghost in meto embrace lethargyfor the sake of the shellwhere my poor parents dwell.-------------------
Infatuation Dead Ends
Ophelia-stressedI endured confusion.My baby Selftrusted the flamethat whispered Life,but was tantalized awayby Flattery’s courtier.Romance sparked everythingfor a tempestuous whileuntil Rejection’s wand.The horror, a monumental ache.Exhaustion eventually pillowed pain.Yet, with a broken, porcelain heartand the still, slow blaze of mind candleI find summer night grass always deliciousand clutch at an eternal evening’s promise of soft love.Desire’s music manipulates blind womento the secret petal place behind heavento exult in reckless and familiar Hope,so often to be devoured and betrayed.Once again, I kiss an arctic altar good-byeand reenter the status safe hallwayleading to a bittersweet old age.-------------------
ARTISTRY ECSTASY
I need art to do –even to see –it's God's languagerevitalizing me.I savor each vain urge,every sweet tiny achemy mundane existence(in a heart-beat) to forsake,to wander beyondthe languid Beauty mist,all essential and treacherousshadow roads to risk,in finding the sacred forestof serious, artistic people;where the moon shines purpleand a winter airwhispers poetry;where understanding comessummer easyand important thoughtsflung through a dreamhang heavenly;where Truth Eclecticjazz-bedazzles nightlyin a star-jeweled,risqué gown;where in artless deliriumI deliciously drown.--------------------
The Nice Man
We spoke brieflybut I was impressedby your kindnessand interest in me.A thrilling visitto that “you boy, me girl” place of joy
(so infrequent in this stage of my life).Are you gay, married, “relationshipped”or as commitment-phobic as I?Is it all a sweet lieI’ve over-personalized?It was a necessarily demurefirst social meeting,crackling with promises deferred --more likely unfulfilled.
Some friends have married loveI still glimpse itas a lightning bugthat less-than momentarily excitesa rare and perfectblack summer eve’s horizon.
From the scraps of a lonely child’s past“entitlement deficiency” and Fateseem to have prepared meLife’s plate.
From the scraps of a lonely child’s past“entitlement deficiency” and Fateseem to have prepared meLife’s plate.
Some say, “Talent will out!”I say, “Not as muchas DYSFUNCTION!”
---------------
These are lovely. They make me wonder if we can ever just forget the past disappointments and begin anew. The problem is that everyone wants to know what came before.
R&R ;-)
You are not permitted to bathe in the lake of ecstasy
Until you've cried enough tears to create it.....
:-)
R
.
Until you've cried enough tears to create it.....
:-)
R
.
all good and very evocative, but I am partial to "College Honeymoon With Self." Nice! R
Oh Libby...from your comment to this. I liked what Sky said.
It has been quite a day for both of us. Your poetry is wonderful
It has been quite a day for both of us. Your poetry is wonderful
Thanks Libby.
Your contributions to this site, in every form, build and enhance, at the very time so many feel it falling down.
So good to know I can come back and revisit these poems, whenever the mood takes me. A gifted, dedicated soul you are :-)
♡
Your contributions to this site, in every form, build and enhance, at the very time so many feel it falling down.
So good to know I can come back and revisit these poems, whenever the mood takes me. A gifted, dedicated soul you are :-)
♡
And to think that someone on this site has the effrontery to delete what you write. Thanks for sharing these.
I like them all and the first and last especially. Such depths of feelings that I have too. Hang in there with hope.
phyllis, thanks for commenting and validating. Each of these poems I have flashed on during the past week, self-disclosing with some bouts of shame to a friend. Kind of a fifth step I realize looking back now. Two of the poems I wrote long ago but never showed ANYONE. posting on open salon is one more growth opportunity in facing down my ego and RISKING. Sigh. We carry so much emotional baggage around with us. Sometimes it is good to shed it by opening it up and emptying it out. I never learned the art or relief of traveling light. Still time. :-) best, libby
jmac, always there for me. you so rock, mister!!! :-)
sky, you said it even more powerfully and concisely than I. Thank you. you are an amazing poet.
Gerald, I love it when your comments appear and they are always so generous. College Honeymoon was the happiest to write. College the Camelot of my life.
(((Ande))) ... thank you dear, strong, generous woman!
Kim, you show up at times and leave me validating statements that take my breath away, that I feel tempted to print out and frame for my wall to fortify me during my down times. I know I missed the OS golden era and your expressing such appreciation for me in the now open salon -- which I really cherish no matter what some popping off on my part may indicate -- means a so much.
arthur, thank you for visiting and for being so affirming!!!
zanelle, thank you so much. the first poem wrote itself so fast and that last one has never been seen by anyone but me before now. The comparison to fireflies the writer in me liked, and the female-ego in me cringed over its reality in shame and even despair. but, we are where we are and ever a work in progress. thanks for selecting that one! :-)
best,
libby
jmac, always there for me. you so rock, mister!!! :-)
sky, you said it even more powerfully and concisely than I. Thank you. you are an amazing poet.
Gerald, I love it when your comments appear and they are always so generous. College Honeymoon was the happiest to write. College the Camelot of my life.
(((Ande))) ... thank you dear, strong, generous woman!
Kim, you show up at times and leave me validating statements that take my breath away, that I feel tempted to print out and frame for my wall to fortify me during my down times. I know I missed the OS golden era and your expressing such appreciation for me in the now open salon -- which I really cherish no matter what some popping off on my part may indicate -- means a so much.
arthur, thank you for visiting and for being so affirming!!!
zanelle, thank you so much. the first poem wrote itself so fast and that last one has never been seen by anyone but me before now. The comparison to fireflies the writer in me liked, and the female-ego in me cringed over its reality in shame and even despair. but, we are where we are and ever a work in progress. thanks for selecting that one! :-)
best,
libby
These are lovely, Libby. Those college days are the ones when we think we'll figure it all out. We never do, despsite our trying.
possibly your
best work
I just don't know
Good to know U!
best work
I just don't know
Good to know U!
I wish I did not understand so well.
Yes, that's where home was, and in some ways, that will always be home.
Yes, that's where home was, and in some ways, that will always be home.
jl -- thought these poems had gone back on the archive shelf! thanks so much for the generous words and adding your attention and kindness. Like that line from Casa Blanca, "I'll always have college!" :-) After that golden time I went into a psychological tailspin that still hasn't totally ungripped me. It has taken decades even to begin to grasp why. But I think the high of college expanded my awareness of and capacity for joy and satisfaction when I can manage (and handle) it.
((((James))))) back at ya!
bleue, thank you. I know you know and sometimes words like some of those above come from hard-won (dare I say "won"? -- more like Rocky I -- managing to go "the distance") long-term experience that, as you validate in your comment, forever haunts. I told a new friend recently that comparing conditional love with unconditional love is like comparing a crack in the sidewalk to the Grand Canyon. You appreciate and live on the first hardly realizing the second actually exists. Taken a lifetime to come to the awareness of what unconditional love actually is and to begin to offer it to myself. That lasts a milli-second when it happens, but that is remarkable in itself. Also, James E. has that Blake (?) quote in his profile about learning to bear the beams of love in this life. How much courage and challenge to learn to love ourselves and be open to that from others. A cab driver the other night, after picking me up when I was in a rather joyous mood over a few vacation days from work, by the end of the ride told me he would be honored if I let him not charge me. Never has this happened in my NYC experience. I had put a big fat tip with the cash in my hand from our lovely chat and not that long journey but it was very late at night and not safe to walk it. It was a rush but it was also hard to take in such a benign ambush of good will from a stranger! When I had gotten in the cab with a huge bouquet of flowers I'd splurged on for myself from an all night NYC bodega to celebrate the days off he joked, "Ah, you brought me flowers!!" I laughed and then, of course, chatted up a storm with him. You never know when kindness will be paid forward. I had to make myself put that tip and cash back in my pocket and it was hard but so sweet to receive.
best, libby
xxx
((((James))))) back at ya!
bleue, thank you. I know you know and sometimes words like some of those above come from hard-won (dare I say "won"? -- more like Rocky I -- managing to go "the distance") long-term experience that, as you validate in your comment, forever haunts. I told a new friend recently that comparing conditional love with unconditional love is like comparing a crack in the sidewalk to the Grand Canyon. You appreciate and live on the first hardly realizing the second actually exists. Taken a lifetime to come to the awareness of what unconditional love actually is and to begin to offer it to myself. That lasts a milli-second when it happens, but that is remarkable in itself. Also, James E. has that Blake (?) quote in his profile about learning to bear the beams of love in this life. How much courage and challenge to learn to love ourselves and be open to that from others. A cab driver the other night, after picking me up when I was in a rather joyous mood over a few vacation days from work, by the end of the ride told me he would be honored if I let him not charge me. Never has this happened in my NYC experience. I had put a big fat tip with the cash in my hand from our lovely chat and not that long journey but it was very late at night and not safe to walk it. It was a rush but it was also hard to take in such a benign ambush of good will from a stranger! When I had gotten in the cab with a huge bouquet of flowers I'd splurged on for myself from an all night NYC bodega to celebrate the days off he joked, "Ah, you brought me flowers!!" I laughed and then, of course, chatted up a storm with him. You never know when kindness will be paid forward. I had to make myself put that tip and cash back in my pocket and it was hard but so sweet to receive.
best, libby
xxx
These are excellent
Your poem on artistry brought tears to my eye
~R~
Your poem on artistry brought tears to my eye
~R~
Why MCS, YOU are especially one of those precious, serious and artistic people in this, our sacred forest!!! :-) love, libby
Insightful and powerful poetry on several important topics. Thanks. R.
Lyle, thanks for the support, yet again! :-) best, libby
You never know when kindness will be paid forward.
Said a mouthful, Libby :-)
Said a mouthful, Libby :-)
Just came to this, I try to read all the poetry I can find on the site, thanks for these this morning. I admire your tenacity to keep your head up, kudos to you.
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