Poetry Blogs (relationships)

Poetry understands
walking dead,
monsters under the bed,
voices in your head.

Poetry understands
wounded souls,
storms, walls, 
severed rainbows.

Poetry understands
broken hearts,
rainy days, lonely nights,
moon light.

Poetry understands
star-crossed love,
hopeless romances,
second chances.

Poetry understands
twin flames
guilt, shame,
the blame game.

Poetry understand...

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Life is too full of people 
willing to share their soul 
to focus on those who
aren’t open to your light. 

You were meant to soar with eagles,
not wallow with nocturnal wildlife. 

While they may be beautiful, 
mysterious, alluring, 
they thrive in darkness, 
a place you escaped long ago. 

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When I was 7 years old, I went with my mother to visit her friend. I heard a dog bark when we knocked on the door. I love doggies! "Where's your doggie?" I asked. "I put him out back. He's an old police dog and isn't used to kids." 

"Stay away from him," my mother warned. 

Despite her warning, I went in search of the doggie and found him chained to a stake in the ground, head down, dark eyes...

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For some, the writer's plight may be staring at a blank page, fear of rejection, or resistance presented in various forms. For me, the writer's plight is being available morning, noon, and night to welcome a steady stream of pop-in visitors with expectations of providing conversation, cooking, cleaning, even childcare for hours on end.

With a Mona Lisa smile, I weigh the importance of what my d...

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Fool me once 
shame on you.

Fool me twice 
shame on me.

Fools forever 
chasing love 
and destiny. 

Think it through
before you give up 
friendship
for a moment 
in the sun 
on the sinking ship
of fools. 

###

https://youtu.be/UolKQWoWyQY

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He loves her but, 
she loves him,
but he loves the mirror 
like his lost love loves selfies.

Adoration, pointing every direction, 
like weather vanes in a hurricane.

Each unware their 
love affair 
is bound to end. 

Love lessons often repeat 
until we understand that 
real love begins within, 
then overflows to others, 

making the circle of love 
complete. 

###

https://...

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Time after time 
I give you another chance
to prove you still care.

You respond with 
the venomous bite
of a rattlesnake.

How much more 
poison can I take

before I am consumed 
by the same dark spirit
that possesses you?

I know I should run
far away

but I have convinced myself
of the old cliche...

better the devil you know 
than the devil you don't.

I know what to ex...

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I see you lurking about
making him say 
sweet nothings
to lure me out.

This time 
I am being smart,
walling off 
my broken heart.

Using your 
flaming arrows
to paint the sky.

Let the world know
you are really 
not a nice guy.

You are a trickster
who makes girls cry
with your stupid lies.

My schooled soul 
knows the truth
betrayed.

Romantic love
is an illusion,
pas...

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This is my attempt at a true crime/romance/poetry crossover and it’s called “There were only seven chicken meatballs in my pack of eight”.

There were only seven chicken meatballs in my pack of eight

So I opened up my Macbook to send an email of complaint.

She said

    Look. You need to get a sense of perspective.

    It’s petty, it’s sad, and you sound like a git.

    P...

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Tinder: cure for monandry

A swiping economy

for serial dating sprees.

Love product placement

Sex micropayments.

The dodoitsu is a Japanese form, 7-7-7-5-5 syllables and no rhyme scheme (but I added one for my own nefarious purposes) . They are usually wryly comical and connected with love or work. This is my first attempt at one. 

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He ghosted me,

then I ghosted too.

Maybe ghosting 

spreads like the flu.

Leaves the ghosted

feeling sick and blue

when a loved one 

suddenly starts ignoring you. 

You haven't a clue 

what to do. 

So, you stay in bed, 

with the covers over your head

wishing you were dead

so you can get some relief 

from the ghosting disease.

Eventually, you get up

sal...

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Deluge of words,

Too many to handle.

After the fact,

Not much remains

But sadness.

-----

More of my deep short poems at www.unconventionalbeing.com.

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Watch me. 

I am about to speak,

Tap the roof of my mouth

             Back of my teeth 

With the tip of my tongue,

Every word inching closer

To screwing up 

Your approval of me. 

I was a people-pleaser 

Until 25 made me learn 

The hard way. 

This afternoon, 

I wondered aloud about refilling

My Klonopin at CVS. 

The cashier raised her eyebrow

As I c...

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We walk a 
fine line in 
our relationship
with others.

Words, powerful 
as they are,
miss the idiosyncrasies 
of body language 
that convey sincerity 
and good intention.

On the road 
to enlightenment,
our muse sometimes 
knicks old wounds 
that the ego 
rushes to protect. 

Our responsibility 
remains 
with freedom 
of expression,

to speak our truth 
knowing some will ...

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He loves me?
He loves me not?

Questions I have 
asked myself a lot 
since the day 
I said I do. 

Yes, he has a 
wandering eye,
avoids intimacy
like I am 
the blessed
Mother Mary.

Yes, he has a 
hair-trigger temper, 
can top Pinocho 
with his lies.

Our love is 
unconventional,
but I no longer
question why.

After four decades 
in the trenches,
I have learned 
to focu...

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I think we can be something special,

So let's just take it slow,

And wait until we're ready,

To decide where this goes.

There's no need to rush,

Because I'll always be here,

Today, tomorrow,

For the next million years.

-tae

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I do not get it when they say,

We will not make it one day,

I do not get it, when they laugh,

On us and on our scars

I do not get it when they do not believe us,

How crazily can this world suck?

I cannot express the pain in words,

Let’s run because we seem cursed

Let’s run away from the chains of pain,

Let’s run away where we can dance in rain,

Let’s run as ...

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He bows at her body, thankful and polite, acknowledges the service, plays the part.

She smiles at stories, smart enough to be cynical but hopeful enough to be happy. 

He takes out a notepad and pretends not to watch for a reaction 

As she reads his silver words

As she reads his mind through the blunt tool of his silver words.

He runs. 

He thinks he’s wrong because she told h...

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Why say I'm sorry
for something in which
you had no part?

Because, shallow as those 
two words may seem...

the gesture plays 
a pivotal role in 
healing a broken heart. 

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A volcano
Aching to reach the skies
Tries and tries
Spits ash into the air that's always blown away
A mountain
Full of fire
The heat of a thousand suns stirs within
But no one could ever see through the smoke he creates -
Conflate
How every magician disappears
Smoke & mirrors
But when he explodes
Take cover
He will burn you to the ground

A hurricane
Twists and turns
The world upsid...

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The razor thin space between 
stimuli and response 
is decision. 

I decided to put a  
romcom relationship
where love never ends
and be, just friends. 

It was a defining decision.

He decided that without 
certain stimuli, there would be 
no response, just an end.

Tempting as it is to give in
to conditioned responses,
I'm riding the razor's edge
into a new frontier...

A pla...

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