To think that I have loved as
The thornbirds on the vine,
Pure and sweet and passionate
And utterly sublime,
Beyond the wildest senses
Which I could never comprehend.
But such intensity comes at a price,
And my song is at an end.
The thorn in my chest, I can’t breathe;
So here I now die alone,
My soul having such a love
Beyond what could have been known.
And I would take three thorns
In my chest to feel again
The sweet intensity that filled me
Since my tragic love began.
Why did you whisper foolish things
When pressed tightly to me in bed?
That you loved me as I loved you,
And the perfect kids we’d have bred,
And how it was we’d make it through
The thorns of our rose garden path,
Of a glorious life with you,
Of all the happiness we’d have?
Was all of that feigned emotion
And lies that sounded good right then
In precious, intimate moments
With my heart beating on your skin?
Were you just trying to deceive
My gullible trust which longs for
All of these proffered fruits, having
Never wanted anything more?
After all, you never tell me
Those things unless in passion’s throes,
When I’m vuln’rable and open
And my drugged mind no logic knows.
Perhaps because I fantasize
That perhaps at last I’ve found
The love I’ve looked for all my life
Who makes my happiness abound,
I try to ignore all my doubts,
Since I love you passionately,
And tend to think that those were just
Your inner feelings being free
For once, but I will never know
Now, since we will never more be,
And all that I want has become
An impossible fantasy
That once seemed as close to my grasp
As your warm body in my arms
And the feelings of our love past,
Which are now just remembered charms.
How do you think we could be friends
After such moments as we’ve shared?
That would be a torture that the
Inquisition would not have dared
To employ, for it has mercy.
Imagine us meeting as friends
Talking calmly while depriving
Your body’s lush touch from my hands.
And you would laugh while I would think
Of the moans you made bathed in sweat,
And try as I might to pretend,
Fiery eyes won’t let me forget.
Me? Content? While you’re behind glass
And I’m behind electric bars,
A cell made of my emotions,
Of the passion that once was ours?
I thought you a cardiologist,
Trusting your opinion from the start,
Letting you cut in two my sternum
And cut my vital rib cage apart.
You clamped my veins and my arteries
To give a bypass because they’re blocked.
You cut out my heart for a transplant,
Saying the old one was sick and pocked.
You left me something rotten instead
Which has brought me to a tragic end.
You took my heart full of love for you,
And then just wanted to be my friend.
O, that I were just an ass
Eating the wild grass in the fields
And that all my tragic flaws and
Weaknesses to you weren’t revealed!
To be as Nebuchadnezzar
Without sense and senseless love, too!
But I am a star crossed lover,
Wishing to die ere losing you.
I’d lief take leave of my senses
And survive by my raw instinct,
Than feel our love’s bonds be severed;
Your love and life to me are linked.
I’d rather spend those seven years
And another seventy-two,
Rather than being rational,
Perpetually missing you.
Your eyes are as profound as lies
And just as hard to maintain.
Something within me surely dies;
We can never be the same.
Irresistible as mayo,
You’re as healthy for me, too,
In the realms of Galileo
A star now burns thanks to you,
For you took all the light from me
(Loving you was my worst gaffe)
When you coldly killed the only
Child that I was like to have.
Now you expect me to forgive
Murder done without consent
To half of me that now should live,
Being fully innocent?
What’s worse, you expect my love still,
Though you know how much I’ve longed
To have what you thoughtlessly killed;
Your heart has never belonged
To me, and neither will the child.
Go, leave me before I destroy
You, for my emotions run wild,
Seeking vengeance for dead joy.
Oh, how fickle is a woman
Who never knows what she desires!
The love she gives in some moments
In other times makes her a liar.
She thinks with changing emotions,
But then wonders why I’m leery
Of opening myself to her,
Since she can’t see that I’m weary
Of playing what she has made games,
Not treating love seriously.
And the irony of it all
Is she thinks the fickle one is me.
What easy lies do you tell me now,
While emotion is clouding my mind
And any words that you would profess
Seem as from an oracle divine?
And how much of you can I believe
While love’s naïve idealism blinds
When you profess your undying love
As our bodies now lie intertwined?
Will you leave me when the night is through,
Having found what you had sought and more,
Content to have used me willingly
Since you’re the one person I adore?
The lamps are out and your knock comes,
You stand with coat obscuring face.
I open the door; you glance ’round,
Hoping you weren’t seen in this place.
You tell me with the lights down low
That you love me with all your heart,
But leave me before the dawn comes
So that none would think you a tart.
You pass me by in the public,
Not even bothering to smile.
I know should I give affection,
That you would be moved with denial.
Later your knock would come again,
And you’d apologize to me,
Trying to explain how it is
You love me when no one can see.
let me find out for myself
if she’s bad for me
please don’t interfere again
even should misery
await me like an angry mob
dragging me to the guillotine
just be a grandmother
quilting at the gruesome scene
who wants a little of my blood
to speckle her as my head falls.
i can’t listen to your advice,
for love awaits and duty calls.
like a hero I must rush in
my sword flashing with derring-do;
maybe I’ll be victorious
just bid me luck and sad adieu.
Sancho Panza, you can’t save me,
and there is no panacea
to prevent me fighting windmills
for love and for Dulcinea.
Midnight Musings from Melancholy Muses 