The Longest 40 Minutes

The longest forty minutes start at six o’clock each day,

right after you have called to say that you are on your way,

for I know you have left from work and they don’t own your time,

and yet, I’m not there with you, lips in contact, limbs entwined.

I picture you inside your car, the highway lane below,

lip-synching to whatever song is on the radio,

hair lit up and golden in the light the sunset’s cast,

passing by each exit, till you come to ours, at last.

Although it takes place daily in a standard business week,

this being the tenth year of our romantic marriage streak,

it still gets me excited, like the first time that we met,

awaiting your arrival at a locale we’d preset.

By now, the only difference is, we live where we will meet.

It’s not a restaurant. It’s just a residential street.

Although they’re long, these forty minutes do come to an end,

and I am reunited with my husband and best friend.

Growing Old

I want to be with you forever.

I plan to grow old by your side.

 We’ll go on adventures together,

both leaving no option untried.

Someday, we may have matching canes,

or blend all our food into soup.

We’ll talk, on the porch, of our pains,

and snog, even though we booth droop.

Then one day, when I need a scooter,

we’ll add on a special sidecar

so I may ride close to my suitor,

not caring if we look bizarre.

I welcome the wrinkles and gray,

wait up for the dentures and flab,

don’t mind if you need a toupée,

or stop for an afternoon nap.

As long as I’m with you, life’s great.

There’s no place that I’d rather be.

You’ll always be my perfect date,

at twenty-six or ninety-three.

Inception

The first time I saw you, I felt my heart flutter.

The first time we kissed was so sweet.

The first time you entered, I felt a deep shudder.

It all made my heart skip a beat.

The first time the sun rose with you by my side,

I memorized every detail.

The first time you shaved the chin hairs from your hide,

you proved what I liked would prevail.

The first time we parted, I felt a deep pang:

the long stretch I had to endure.

The first time you came back, to that door I sprang,

your love for me my only cure.

All these years later, it still feels the same.

I pine for you when you’re not near.

I give myself to you, I take on your name,

and hope that my foibles endear.

To Me From You, Part II: My Favorite Machine

I am an engineer at heart, have been since I was small,

and nothing’s changed, it’s still the same, although I’m now quite tall.

I love to look within and see the way contraptions work,

to poke inside the mechanism, where its secrets lurk.

So I love learning all the parts inside that make you You.

I love to tighten properly your every bolt and screw.

I love your brainy gears that turned and made you fall for me,

all working in a way I trust, but never need to see.

All engines need to be maintained, or else they’ll fall apart.

I love to oil the valves and muscle tissues of your heart.

I love to groom my instrument and shine it up each day,

and brush the copper coils of hair your fine machine displays .

When I dismantle engine parts, I rebuild afterward.

It’s just a handy thing that I can do, ’cause I’m a nerd.

I wouldn’t want to tear your heart up. I’ll leave it intact,

the one machine whose parts I can’t replace once they have cracked.

I vow to keep you whole and give respect that you deserve,

to make sure that your love for me is something I preserve.

I’m sometimes asked which great machine I love to work on best,

which kind of  thing I’d give attention to more than the rest.

You are the best contraption one like me could ever want,

with gorgeous innards, outtards, perfect backside, top, and front.

No apparatus on this Earth intrigues me like you can,

my favorite implement to study since my world began,

for nothing’s like designing my own love affair with you,

 a work-in-progress, which, upon my death, shall not be through.

Euphonious

A symphony of word and breath and sound,

conducted by my lover’s vocal chords,

intangible, but fervently profound,

ephemeral, auricular rewards.

The oscillating sound waves reach my ears,

his exhalation warm, as is his heart,

as soon as I have heard, it disappears …

the impact will remain though we will part.

It comes to me whenever he’s away.

I close my eyes, pretend he’s here with me.

I’ve memorized, to in my head, replay

whenever he’s asleep or absentee.

There’s nothing in the world that’s quite the same

as how my precious lover calls my name.

 

Poetaster

“A picture’s worth a thousand words.” I, too, believe that’s true.

I wish so badly I could paint or draw to capture you.

But I can’t draw or paint well, so I write some verse instead.

No matter how I try, so many details go unsaid.

In lieu of those, I’d use the plastic art forms if I could,

by sculpting you from clay or carving out your shape in wood,

thus catching all your nuances that still evade my song,

presenting your sweet curves I’ve been in love with for so long.

All those things above, beside, there’s still photography.

I never get the light right, though, so much one still can’t see.

They never do you justice, so it’s poetry I use.

I’ll try until I die to glorify my perfect muse.

 I’ve used a thousand words and I’ve repeated several times,

piling high upon my shelves those stacks of meager rhymes.

The proper thousand words to use stay trapped within my mind.

I hope, if I keep searching, that someday, those words I’ll find.

All Those Things We Never Said

Let’s say all those things we never said.

Let’s sit down and talk until we’re done.

Let’s rewrite our history instead.

Let’s pretend our lives have just begun.

All those things we never said are here,

all those things we owe the other’s heart.

All those things we held back are so clear.

All those things demand that we re-start.

Let’s carve out new paths that intersect.

Let’s embark on journeys as a pair.

Let’s embrace those feelings we neglect.

Let’s no longer hide the love we share.

When We Kiss

I so love the way you still look at me when we two kiss,

’cause each time we do, there’s a wonder alive in your eyes,

as though no lips brushing on yours ever felt quite like this,

as though I intoxicate, giving you fabulous highs.

I think of a child with his presents when Christmas time comes,

your face lit, so grateful to find, such a treasure, you own.

The whole cake is not what you run for; you relish the crumbs,

like tasting my kiss is the greatest one pleasure you’ve known.

It makes me so tickled to know my lips bring you such joy,

that they are the cause of the grin you display on your face,

which shines through your manliness, showing your sweet little boy

who’s spent all his life searching for my warm kiss and embrace.

A Modern World

bjjb

Once upon a time in a modern-day world, I logged onto a dating website.

I looked for a friend or companion to hang with. I didn’t expect Mr. Right.

I read through the profiles. I flipped through them all. No one stood out from the start.

Then came an “interest” from someone I’d passed on. He set out to capture my heart.

In only two days, we’d exchanged several emails; he asked for my number to call.

The first time we spoke, this man asked me to dinner. Already, I knew that I’d fall.

Our date was so lovely, we both needed more. So I met him again and again.

In only three days from the day our eyes first met, I left behind all other men.

Somehow I knew that my life was completed. He voiced aloud what we both knew–

though we had just met, we intended to marry. Ecstatic, we both said, “I do.”

My friends and my family all thought I’d gone crazy, and nobody thought we would last.

I knew what they meant. I could see that, objectively, we got engaged way too fast.

After our marriage had lasted a few years, our story improved with passed time.

Now when we’re asked how long we’ve stayed together, we tell them, “This year makes it nine.”

Pretzels

Pretzels

Image

Thank You For…

couple-160331_640

 Thank you for loving me even when I’m at my worst.

Thank you for always forgiving and then moving on.

Thank you for quenching all my intellectual thirst.

Thank you for skyping your love to me when you are gone.

Thank you for reading a book if I’ve told you you should.

Thank you for trusting my judgment when you’d rather not.

Thank you for being so tall and for smelling so good.

Thank you for cheering me up when I’m sad and distraught.

Thank you for wanting me when I was so overweight.

Thank you for saying I’m beautiful all of the time.

Thank you for being so patient when I’m running late.

Thank you for eating junk food as my partner in crime.

Thank you for being my rock when I needed one so.

Thank you for taking me, with my old baggage and all.

Thank you for being the wittiest person I know.

Thank you for running so quickly whenever I call.

Thank you for doing some yoga and buying a mat.

Thank you for helping me plant those vines growing so high.

Thank you for finding my keys, wherever ’tis that they’re at.

Thank you for giving vegetarianism a try.

Thank you for knowing so quickly that I was The One.

Thank you for sharing the interesting things that you learn.

Thank you for solving most problems before they’ve begun.

Thank you for sharing with me all the money you earn.

Thank you for planning our finances for when we’re old.

Thank you for settling in with me right where we are.

Thank you for putting your dreams, when you have to, on hold.

Thank you for living life’s story with me, your co-star.

Thank you for promising you’ll be with me till the end.

Thank you for holding me tight as we both fall asleep.

Thank you for being a loyal, compassionate friend.

Thank you for thinking I’m pretty as my wrinkles creep.

Thank you for all these and thank you for what is to come.

I know you so well and I know I’ll have more to add on.

Though this is still incomplete, it is far better than none.

But I’ll stop for now, as I see it is finally dawn.

*picture courtesy of OpenClips on pixabay.com

First Crush

I can see the gray that’s made its way into your beard.

I can see your middle bulging out.

I can’t decide if I should really tell you how I felt.

Read this and you’ll know without a doubt.

I had been in love with you since first I saw your face.

I was right there with you all along.

There were times I know you thought that you were all alone.

I wanted so to tell you you were wrong.

Sometimes you would say things that would give me grains of hope.

I would dream that you could love me back.

But I kept it fantasy in case you’d break my heart

by showing, where your love would be, a lack.

I didn’t think you’d want me so I never took the chance.

Finally, I realized, nor did you.

I took that as a signal and I moved on with my life…

the hardest thing I ever had to do.

But I did move on and I’m so very glad I did.

I see you there alone and growing old.

I’m so much more happy than I’d ever be with you.

I know that from your stance that must sound cold.

I still care quite deeply for you, and I always will.

I’m just glad I married whom I did.

Turns out, when you grew up, you’re a very different man

from whom I thought you’d be when you and I were kids.

I hope you can find happiness, however that may be.

I noticed that you haven’t found it yet.

Of all the people I could wish it for, I’d wish for you,

my first crush, whom I never will forget.

Covert Ops

I learn about you everyday. The more I know, I find

I want to see in more detail the workings of your mind.

Just like none can judge a man who knows the game is on,

you reveal such nuggets when you think your curtain’s drawn!

I see whom you are inside and want to be like you.

At times I most admire what you’ve chosen not to do.

Genuine like none I know, you plot the course and stay,

all while living life like you accept it’s day to day.

You have self-esteem that’s real, from how you act and live,

the kind no school or trophy top could ever hope to give.

You’re forgiving. That I know. I’ve seen you be a man.

I’ve seen you set a lofty goal and give it all you can.

Though true that luck was on your side, so many gifts from birth,

you squander not, but shine instead, and give your life its worth.

Into dark I’d go with you. I’d follow without thought,

for you’re The Man, my whole life through, the one for whom I’d sought.

Even if you didn’t love me, I would love you still.

I’d have a wretched, gaping hole that none could hope to fill.

It’s because I love the you that you don’t try to be.

I love the you that sometimes you don’t know that I can see.

Thank you, Love, for having me, for making me your wife.

Thanks for being beacon fuel that burns and lights my life!

Were It Just That Simple…

Were it just that simple, I would only be my best.

I’d never let them see me sweat. I’d always ace the test.

Were it just that simple, I would save the whole damned world.

I’d smite all evil. Off the cliff, it neatly would be hurled.

Were it just that simple, I would keep an open mind.

I’d hear out every argument, and they’d pay back in kind.

Were it just that simple, I would never hurt a soul.

I’d always find a way to show amazing self-control.

Were it just that simple, I would be the perfect wife.

I’d give him everything he wants and bring his dreams to life.

Were it just that simple, all my dreams he would fulfill.

I could never want for more and know I never will.

Were it just that simple, I would only make him laugh.

I’d tell him jokes and watch him smile and cry on his behalf.

Were it just that simple, he would never make me cry.

                 He’d always be so patient and he’d never, ever die.

Were it just that simple, there would be no petty fights.

We’d fill our time with love and song and sweet romantic nights.

Were it just that simple, we would be the perfect pair.

And never to the other would we ever be unfair.

Were it just that simple, all the words I set to page

would keep us warm and cozy as the years advance our age.

Were it just that simple, I would run off with my man.

We’d live in bliss and reminisce ’bout how it all began.

But…things are not that simple. All men’s lives are full of woe.

To take that journey with him is the only way I’ll go.

So…it’s not that simple. There are worse things that could be.

Perfect blends are boring, dear…that’s why he’s here with me.

.

Enabling The Future

A Global Network Of Passionate Volunteers Using 3D Printing To Give The World A "Helping Hand."

Everywhere Once

An adult's guide to long-term travel

the poet's billow

a resource for moving poetry

James Windale

The official blog of James Windale

Shadow and Clay

Adventures in Attempted Authoring

Writing Madness

blog of author charlotte cyprus

Catpaws Cafe

Random musings from my virtual fountain pen

Always Rebecca

A Mathematician attempting to swim in the ocean of writing.

Shanan Winters

Interpreter of Inspiration

La Belle Epunque

The Blog of Artist, Poet and Author, Alira Alomien Rosi

Pickled Words

a place for pickles, a place for words

To Tilt With Windmills

countless worlds at your fingertips

Red and the Big Bad Wolf

The story of me - Red living with Myasthenia Gravis or the 'Big Bad Wolf' as I prefer to call it

Wrong Side of the Glass

My Journey Through an Undefined Illness

One Fierce Mama

Unapologetic, uncensored, opinionated, and a mother.

Autoimmune Warrior

Life with Invisible Illnesses

the myasthenia kid

Life with possibly undiagnosed myasthenia gravis, diagnosed severe autonomic dysfunction and ehlers danlos syndrome

Experimental Fiction

"Come with me, and you'll be, in a world of pure imagination" Willy Wonka, 1971

Myasthenia Gravis Blog

MG Mind, Body & Soul Blog

%d bloggers like this: