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How Many?

November 26, 2013

I
Ways could she express her caring,
Nothing else to offer except time.
Grown accustomed to all the staring.

Her time always passing to her loss.
Racing moments of pleasure few.
Seemingly never, winning the toss.

Dramatically meeting Him, her only pleasure.
Contrite He knows, with whom He competes.
He, forever, showers her ample measure.

Jealously, dearheart, was second in life.
Once in, his punishment was to begin;
his wish to be number one, is his strife.

Many supplication approaching His throne;
More than, dozens witness; hear her tone.

II
Actually love is, no distraction for her, so
death always swarming, seeking, a weakling.
Occasionally finding, a few, faith let us go.

One eye open, keeping that door closed.
Actually in love, she kept him as second.
Wiser she is one might, even all supposed…

Sudden fury, overcame his loving heart:
blindly angry, to him all became offense!
he seethes, no longer desires; her loving part!

Sensitive; an extreme fault, he does not know, she
recognizes the dogs in heat, refuses, to; the lower,
trash rolls through gym; works and sweats, no glee.

Pieces of work, His will is charged with this, fair.
Hope preferred, over these men in their affair.

III
Seer-ing talk, “You can tell, watch; how she walks.”
Deaf; child reading lips. Acutely hearing she is sadden.
She remembers, heard, them before, their secret talks.

dearheart, she erred, akin to her Beloved? Dearheart!
Vaguely near the ‘catwalk’, where all Harley’s roar.
Nearing, deaths Lion meow, His plan she will not depart.

Flashes dearheart face before her they’re a crew.
Mortals, believing they are known to Him, live lies.
Ass-musing work, the only way of getting to through.

Shrouds; loving heart; withholding talents too!
dearheart, unknowingly seer-ing, is veiling her.
Thankfully, not with me joining their fatal zoo.

Invocation of imps, dearheart they pursue.
Implorations continue wishing them ‘due.

IV
Gluttons, sloths, murderous hearts, defrauded…
projecting paranoia on womenfolk, into slavery;
Facades of marriage; beware; ladies inveigled

to nowhere with weaklings, and lives into despair.
Appearances of flush, considered eccentric, oh
outlandish, naked, will they see Dearheart’s lair.

His lair, paved golden, walls be-jade lights.
What sights, as amateurs, in camels’ keyhole.
Still, moments, dearheart, alive in blights.

She prays, he finds the way to return, naïveté.
Not appeasing her heart, her dearheart, departs.
LOL, in her face, men, do even to this very day.

Artlessness beliefs, evoking world of the angelic.
Liberations, reliefs, all seeking a normal allelic.

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6 Comments
  1. nice…i like how the title rolls into the poem
    interesting modern touches in the ode as well, such as using text speak
    it is interesting the things love will do to us…

  2. I agree with Brian. I have always been fascinated by the way an emotion like love can inspire us to such dark thoughts…pain and ecstasy, two sides of the coin.

  3. We are hurt by – and hurt – those we love the most; only they know exactly where we are most vulnerable.

  4. love and hate or pain…they can get quite close…made me think of a story in the bible where a guy loved a woman madly..then he raped her and his love turned into wild hate

  5. This is such a mixture of emotion, pain, hope and hurt, a journey that takes us to an unexpected place. Well Done.

  6. What a mix of pain and love.. Great modernization of a classical form

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