This is what I have to say about the events that took place this weekend.
With love, not hate…
We love, we break, we shout, we whisper.
So many acts we all commit.
But it is only when I kiss her,
My love turns true, not counterfeit.
The things I feel for those around me
Pale in significance, compared.
With her, I run, I fly, I live free.
My love continuously declared.
Yes, love, repeated thrice already,
It conquers, even if clichéd.
We risk it all, become unsteady.
Yet we cannot the truth evade.
I sit here, quietly explaining
To my own self, I may be mad.
And I could even be exclaiming
That I am foolish, empty, sad.
Despite it all, I keep on going.
Not letting them stand in my way.
It is her love, eternal, knowing,
That shows me I am here to stay.
Let me glorify the mystery of you,
Every time a key allows me past the lock.
When I met you, instantly I knew,
This was not by chance, not random luck.
The electric shock your hand blazed through to mine
Turned out to be salvation, pure and simple.
This touch stopped the concept of my time.
This gesture stayed a mighty symbol.
Your eyes set mine on fire, left me blinded.
Though, mercifully, you let me live and breathe.
The fire burned, and love ignited
Through my heart, above, and underneath.
The story only then began to unfold.
Ahead of us were highs and lows abundant.
The fire blazed, never to get old.
For love to reign supreme, triumphant.
Though this fire seemed obvious, transparent,
Mystery was not underestimated.
That blindness – actually a merit.
Small discoveries – celebrated.
Where have you gone, my love?
I cannot see or hear you near.
You are so very far.
Can we get back from this? From here?
We used to breathe each other in,
Inhaling every look and smile.
And is it now hiding within?
Or has it left us for a while?
“It” being love, exhilaration,
An all-consuming lust and passion.
For others, there was no temptation.
It was reality, not fashion.
I mean, it “is,” not “was,” but “is.”
It is my life, my love, my glory.
I want it here and I want this
To be my only life-long story.
How do I get you back, my dearest?
Where and how far can I now go?
I will search wide and also nearest.
We will feel love once again flow.
Attraction to another you…
Doesn’t it seem so simple and
Then why do all the self-righteous
Send so much of their energy trying
To convince others that it is
Ours is the age of reason,
An age of hopeful change.
Or is it the age of changing hope?
Where are we all headed?
Perhaps there is an overwhelming
Acceptance that is in store.
Yet it is possible that all we’re getting
Is the chilly “tolerance.”
We have yet to see.
But isn’t it idiotic to fight
Over a notion that is entirely
Easy to understand, as if
Putting two and two together?
The wise ones do not believe
That they have answers to all questions.
The happy ones have not achieved
Their joy by trying to be perfect.
Women live, they move on,
They persevere in a storm.
They are remarkable and true
To their nature.
The greatest disappointment
To their Creator is when they
Shamelessly fight each other.
What a waste of time.
Women can resist their
Occasionally clashing tendencies,
Which means that, when united,
They can conquer the world.
The wise ones do not hate their
The happy ones learn to work
Each one is unique.
Each one has her story.
A beating heart.
Can it survive without any
Energy to sustain it?
Can it exist in a vacuum?
I do not think so.
It needs another heartbeat
To accelerate the rhythm
With which it is pumping the blood
Through the rest of the body.
A beating heart cannot race,
But it will stop,
When the propelling force that
Motivated it suddenly
Ceases to exist.
I imagine that there is a whole
Universe of hearts that stopped
Through no fault of their own.
Should we call them broken?
A beating heart exists
Inside my chest.
It is whole because of
I thirst for you.
I ache for you when you are not here.
Why is solitude so overwhelming?
Is it because every piece of me belongs
Yes, I often speak what others
Do not dare to whisper.
We go places and we hold hands
Where others would be shamed and
While others opt for comfort,
You and I remain vocal, even if distraught.
Not having you next to me
Takes away that voice.
I am plenty independent and have
Strength within me,
But I would still die for you.
We are unique, we are unmistakable.
We are God’s creations.
We will continue on for as long
As He wills us to.
Thus, my thirst is quenched
By having you in my life.
How difficult it is to breathe when
You know not what to do or say.
You wish that you had known before then
Whether to stay or run away.
Unconsciously you dream of roads that
You may have taken, but forgot.
You choke then on the words that you spat
Out when loosing faith in God.
For His is only love that matters.
You now compulsively seek Him.
The devil laughs and charms and flatters.
And sadness fills you to the brim.
However long this torment lasts and
However trying is your road,
You must not weep, must not be saddened.
You will have found your new abode.