Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

Who, What, When, Why.

Poetry By: maximilliano
Poetry



Written as a therapeutic piece to lessen the pain of a disastrous relationship.


Submitted:Jul 24, 2009    Reads: 85    Comments: 4    Likes: 2   


Who? What? When? Why?

A tight con-fusion of stardust and moonbeams; joined by spit, love and glory;
I sit half way through tomorrow; heart whole, but soul slashed and gory.
Through my tormented lifestyle, I'm high on the 'go' juice, just starting the story
and closer than midway to sorrow without whom I called mi amore.
I dangled my love at the end of my hand and offered it all, like a note, promissory.
But can't see the end of my world in the mirror, just flurries of short allegory.
I'm really much more than the sum of my parts I've been told. I'm trying to hold
all the pieces together, while they all insist that they're ready to pack up and fold.
I'm a little, black, shiny, ball of antimatter, suspended in the magnetism of your glance.
Looking out for a means of communicating, though fearful of your understanding lance.
I'm antimatter, and dare not caress a hand or an arm of any of those that matter.
For if I did the result of such a touch would cause one huge, madhatter splatter.
Why cut me to pieces with your indifference when I offer everything I shall ever be?
Why tear a strip off each time I open my heart? I found myself crimson with gore,
Each time I proffered my pittance for your perusal. You ever wanted more from me.
In ways you never told. You dared not, ever, let me know the knowledge that you bore.
Times past were ecstasy. Filled with fulfilling each others wish. Always, there was love.
With a touch, glance, lightness of step, smile of contentment. Slept like two commas,
Steeped in the knowing of each others needs and feeling my heartsmile unfurl.
Working towards a common goal, I thought that's what we wanted but you had another.
Then all changed when you unfurled the true you. Confusion contorted my thoughts.
My 'head' was gone and I never knew where hence it went or why, only the 'who'.
Confucius says. By keeping an enemy unbalanced you give balance to your troops.
Since when was I an enemy? To be beguiled by the twisted logic of your thoughts?
It's all so confusing, this waiting and hoping, whilst helping my life to unfold
And I'm blessed if I know why my heart is so rushing and pushing me on to be bold.
For it's all of a madness, this heaving and shoving, to find out we're all of us told,
that the sum of our future is always and ever, foretold.




2

| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.