by compound complex 41 Replies latest watchtower beliefs
How you live your life
Concerns me not, but,
Strangely, pulls me in.
What is this curious
Sickness that stirs me
For reasons unknown?
Where you are not,
I have no wish to be.
When you shed this life,
I shall not care if the sky
Is blue, if birds still sing.
Why you attract me so,
I will likely never know.
Who, really, are you to
Exercise such control,
But never a word at all?
How sick I am with love,
Yet never will you know it.
With envy I gaze through rheumy eyes upon the young father whose children clasp Daddy's legs and beg him play with them.
I am planted all day long upon my park bench, sinewy roots sinking deep down, in and around the splintery slats. Smiling and eager to please, Daddy does their silly bidding. Screaming with glee, the little ones pull him down, and in a heap he willingly tumbles at their precious feet.
Twenty years ago I had the same opportunities but refused to participate in childish goings-on. Grass-stained trousers and twigs in the hair were not for this aesthete who, by the happenstance of a marital union, sired offspring. Let the nanny deal with the effects of Nature ground into textiles and pink skin. Mother and Father are about, caring for matters of importance.
Existence now is incarceration with my constant companions, Regret and Cry of the Heart. Mother is dead, Jason, my son, gone. He never visits. I am here in my usual spot only through the agency of a male nurse. He is competent but shows no interest beyond doing his job. He is well paid.
He displays no willingness to be a son.
What manner of adversary are you, O Cupid,
my newest enemy and cleaver of a heart rent
in two by love's dart unwanted?
Scarce would I seek your quiver emptied of all
implements of love's war, if but to liberate this
shepherd boy from a wasting sickness brought
Upon an unsuspecting and pure spirit.
Content have I been to drink in Nature's
beauty and surfeit my pining soul with
Her sufficient bounties.
She and she alone has been,
to present, sufficient food for all
My youthful cravings.
Now, because of you,
despised one, my once
Simple eye has become darkened.
The Serpent has coiled 'round, he
holds tight fast and lets flow his venom
Slow and insuperable till my full allegiance
becomes guaranteed.
That dear and innocent tender
Of the fold abides no more.
Your darts, O Cupid, are they
clad in lead or are they sheathed in gold?
O cunning and ruthless one, I have become
weary from a desire heretofore unknown.
I am sickened at my very center.
Flesh and resolve, once resistant to sin's allure,
are now troubled by inconvenient stirrings.
They rumble deep within a frame of roiling and
Burning blood that seeks an unlikely cooling.
Come closer, dear Cupid.
I speak only in jest as truly do I love you.
Before this febrile brow breaks its hold,
however, could I very well have clipped
your wings if upon your cursed neck I should fall.
Love's sweet suffering has rendered an innocent
child mad and unaccountable for his present state of amorous intoxication.
I pray that the gods render righteous judgment on my behalf should
My madness lead to Cupid's demise by a strangler's hand ...
I am in a meloncholy mood, CoCo... so I especially appreciate the first two. Thank you for bringing some beauty to the forum.
Lots of love, and peace,
Tammy
Thank you, Tammy, for your kind words.
This type thread garners few reads, fewer comments, yet your post has nourished me, rendering unrequited love of little effect, of no account.
Bless you ...
CoCo du Soupir
The lonely, rejected lover in question had to have felt himself slipping away into nothingness and recorded that event before his complete and final expiration, unless, of course, he slipped away too quickly with no one the savior. To be sure, few romantics put their sorrow to paper before they die.
Perhaps it is too much, the autumn transit that is forcing this man, captive and unwilling, into a forward march toward darker times. The summer sun kept me cheered and pushing onward in pursuit of a furtive dream. Only briefly did that elusive and mocking vision peer back at me before running on ahead, ever beyond my grasp. There was no discouragement, no thought of my quitting the chase, however. The summer's heat and length of day invigorated me toward the continuous effort required to enter the unmatchable beauty of a dream realized.
Today is different. Tomorrow, likewise, shall be this "different," autumnal reality. The change was imperceptible. Summer, in all her robust glory, held on long and vigorous with warmth, birdsong and a good humor capable of lifting the spirits of even the perpetually dispirited. Now the sun has gone; all that remains is the oppressive damp of a landscape gone cold. What confronts me - blocking all routes of escape either forward or backward - is that slipping away into the nothingness of certain decay and descent into oblivion.
A once joyous world of hopes and dreams has departed, where nothing seemed impossible in the mind of this hopeful man, this visionary. The unsavory replacement is a disintegration into the dark and fearful realm of grief and affliction. Finally ...
Eternal silence for this man who loved deeply but who did not love well....
Nice, I don't know why you go off on brothers though^^^
The first one is particularly moving. Didn't read the others, cause I can't get past the first. Wonderful, sir.
Greetings, Dr. J and nateb:
Thank you for posting. I appreciate your having stopped by to comment!
Nice, I don't know why you go off on brothers though^^^
As a brother, i.e., a man with some insight into the male ego, Dr. J, I am particularly hard on myself. I write my way through the pain and, it is hoped, toward healing.
All the best,
CoCo de la Guerison
wow nice
