Tag Archives: emptiness

Remember Me

When drafty, cold sheets
embrace you –
clean, cool air
your only companion,
wrapping bracing arms
about you . . .
remember me,
remember me.

When the only touch
lies in your own caress
and you rock back
and forth,
holding yourself,
loneliness a cloak,
ripped and tattered,
shabbily contenting an empty husk,
remember me.

As you wake with a start,
and reaching down,
feel shame
and a touch of disbelief
as your sheet
sticks with a tackiness
born of dreams . . .
Remember me.

i drank the nectar
of deep, warm recesses –
then you were gone,
leaving an empty cup
tilted over, with rusty edges
on your stand.

One morning I was held by
the savoring sweetness
of sexual desire,
next choking on a
bile of bitter rancor,
spitting out bits
of broken dreams.

So when the time comes
for you to yearn, plead,
beg for fulfilment,
wavering shadows in
the dark becoming
your only company . . .

Lick the drained cup
for the dregs of what was –
will never again be –
do this in remembrance
of me.

What’s In a Name?

Lying in bed
gazing in darkness
reaching over to touch
an empty body
between threadbare sheets
close by – but
never touching
My Husband? Lover?

Does it matter
what the name is
when the function
stays the same?
A rose by any other name, etc.
Bodies filling spaces
useful playthings
meant for frittering away
another night’s boredom.

Used for stuffing empty holes
filling excess corners
memorabilia of the mind,
cluttered junk
receded into dusty, dark places
retrieved for a quiet chuckle
on a frosty night.

What is your name?
Forget it – don’t tell me.
They all sound the same
in the end.

 

The Question

So love is where its at Baby,
and my, my how we all run
from body to body
in desperate yearning
for that one person
beyond all others
that can reach deeply
into the soul’s dark corners
and pull forth
that gift carefully hidden.

Frantically we search
for the special someone
to fill our empty places,
making a shell become whole
because so little belief
is set in our own capacity
to make ourselves complete.

Love, baby, love –
the solitary key
passed from one hand to another’s
thoughtlessly dropped
by hungry feet
that in riotous panic
throng toward gathering places –

To get lost in the crowd
but fearfully hoping
for one night of love
before the illusion is shattered
and we stand naked
before empty souls
who had too little to give
and no time to give it –
desperate and despairing –
because love wasn’t the answer anymore
but just another question.