deepundergroundpoetry.com
Into My Cup
I weep a loss,
I dwell in sorrow
no comfort in this heart
storms of regrets rain through eyes
My love is like dawn
shining through murk
of past lies and actions
a light from beneath the dark
Now no more voices
find us in embrace
no music tie our hearts
the brightness of you is gone
the tone of your gaze
is like faded sepia
the flowers around the shrine
now grow wild, all engulfing
and the altar of my heart
peacefully encircled
by what was
acceptance of what will always be
I dwell in sorrow
no comfort in this heart
storms of regrets rain through eyes
My love is like dawn
shining through murk
of past lies and actions
a light from beneath the dark
Now no more voices
find us in embrace
no music tie our hearts
the brightness of you is gone
the tone of your gaze
is like faded sepia
the flowers around the shrine
now grow wild, all engulfing
and the altar of my heart
peacefully encircled
by what was
acceptance of what will always be
Published 1st Aug 2022
Author's Note
A Dream
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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comments 10
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2nd Aug 2022 2:20am
2nd Aug 2022 1:00pm
3rd Aug 2022 00:14am
3rd Aug 2022 8:59am
the tone of your gaze
is like faded sepia....
Grace, the poem is fine...good use of words and metaphors....
I just truly have trouble with the concept of letting go. I over analyze. I drag thoughts around like old teddy bears.
I mean to just let things be what they are....to accept fate...but....I do a lot of magical thinking...if only, what if, maybe someday.
Alas, and yet....
You're a brilliant writer, RT. I have always envied you. As for letting go... thoughts are like prisms sometimes...they strike out in different directions and difficult to bridle someones
3rd Aug 2022 1:03pm
That's sweet of you to say, Grace. My ability to defend or express myself through my writing is the result of getting my ass handed to me 10,000 times. Even an old blind hog can find an acorn if he gets hungry enough.
Like so many people here, my history is chock full of experiences that were the school of hard knocks looking for another street graduate.
And on most fronts, I was able to walk away a wiser and more cautious man. In love, in the area I spend the most time writing, now nearly 30,000,000 words, I have been a very poor student.
I work here, in this arena, because this is where I have been kicked to the curb the most.
All I wanted was someone to devote my life to, to praise, to love, to worship. If you knew what I had done in the name of love, devotion to people who had not a single drop of mercy on my foolish heart, you wouldn't be able to decide whether to laugh or cry.
I shamelessly fall in love, give my entire being, carry any weight....and over and over....what the hell was I thinking.
My writing may be tight as a drum but my heart has been an idiot. It's just now, at 68, that I have finally resolved that self-care may be the best I can do.
I look back at the crimson battle field that is my personal love life history, and there are singular moments that haunt me like air raid sirens.
Much of my work is written between 2 and 4 AM. I sometimes don't sleep. 3 years ago I didn't sleep for 32 days....at all.
So, I appreciate your kind estimate; I'm 40% Asperger's , and while I have a natural bend towards emotional detail in some regard; in a very practical way, I'm much more an idiot than a savant.
And these are those stories I can't let go of. I've met up with my fair share of narcissists. I'm a creative powerhouse. And like any sled dog I do my best in difficult situations.
I built castles for queens and I lived like a Spartan. I can perform White Tiger kundalini yoga that makes a woman's body levitate orgasmically. My hand painted birthday cards have been framed and hung on walls. I can cook, clean, and dance. I have 56 garden areas with nearly 100 species of flowers. 10,000 pieces of art. I'm a powerhouse of creativity.
And I can't let go of some of the stupidest things. Simply resting is nearly impossible because....with all that...I never really found anyone to truly love me back.
I was spoiled early on. My mother loved me unconditionally. She was a force of nature as an artist. We stayed up all hours drinking coffee and discussing everything. Her mother was the same way.
I grew up thinking that having a lover, a girlfriend, a wife, was about having a best friend to share everything with. I was taught to love deeply and absolutely without training wheels.
And that's who I am. Others, not so much. And I over analyze that thread of mystical dynamics. I'm trying to pry my hands off of that line of thinking. It's a prism....that has been a prison.
In some ways, I feel like I'm just getting started. I know all the rabbit trails. I wish I knew then what I know now, but then if I hadn't gone through it, I wouldn't understand it. My education in the gutter of lost loves is nothing to envy. It's a cautionary tale.
One I wish I could turn off.....and I would give it all up for a pair of lips that would love to kiss me back.
Like so many people here, my history is chock full of experiences that were the school of hard knocks looking for another street graduate.
And on most fronts, I was able to walk away a wiser and more cautious man. In love, in the area I spend the most time writing, now nearly 30,000,000 words, I have been a very poor student.
I work here, in this arena, because this is where I have been kicked to the curb the most.
All I wanted was someone to devote my life to, to praise, to love, to worship. If you knew what I had done in the name of love, devotion to people who had not a single drop of mercy on my foolish heart, you wouldn't be able to decide whether to laugh or cry.
I shamelessly fall in love, give my entire being, carry any weight....and over and over....what the hell was I thinking.
My writing may be tight as a drum but my heart has been an idiot. It's just now, at 68, that I have finally resolved that self-care may be the best I can do.
I look back at the crimson battle field that is my personal love life history, and there are singular moments that haunt me like air raid sirens.
Much of my work is written between 2 and 4 AM. I sometimes don't sleep. 3 years ago I didn't sleep for 32 days....at all.
So, I appreciate your kind estimate; I'm 40% Asperger's , and while I have a natural bend towards emotional detail in some regard; in a very practical way, I'm much more an idiot than a savant.
And these are those stories I can't let go of. I've met up with my fair share of narcissists. I'm a creative powerhouse. And like any sled dog I do my best in difficult situations.
I built castles for queens and I lived like a Spartan. I can perform White Tiger kundalini yoga that makes a woman's body levitate orgasmically. My hand painted birthday cards have been framed and hung on walls. I can cook, clean, and dance. I have 56 garden areas with nearly 100 species of flowers. 10,000 pieces of art. I'm a powerhouse of creativity.
And I can't let go of some of the stupidest things. Simply resting is nearly impossible because....with all that...I never really found anyone to truly love me back.
I was spoiled early on. My mother loved me unconditionally. She was a force of nature as an artist. We stayed up all hours drinking coffee and discussing everything. Her mother was the same way.
I grew up thinking that having a lover, a girlfriend, a wife, was about having a best friend to share everything with. I was taught to love deeply and absolutely without training wheels.
And that's who I am. Others, not so much. And I over analyze that thread of mystical dynamics. I'm trying to pry my hands off of that line of thinking. It's a prism....that has been a prison.
In some ways, I feel like I'm just getting started. I know all the rabbit trails. I wish I knew then what I know now, but then if I hadn't gone through it, I wouldn't understand it. My education in the gutter of lost loves is nothing to envy. It's a cautionary tale.
One I wish I could turn off.....and I would give it all up for a pair of lips that would love to kiss me back.
4th Aug 2022 8:37am
5th Aug 2022 00:39am
Such beautiful thoughts, such uniqueness contained within you. I feel like you lived on a parallel highway to mind, although mine was shaped by opposite of yours. I wish I walked that garden with you.
For such beautiful insights should be written in pages that will light up and inspire others. 🌹
For such beautiful insights should be written in pages that will light up and inspire others. 🌹
5th Aug 2022 5:13am
Thank you....
I have been thinking that this year I will move outside and paint flowers....I really don't do landscapes let alone recognizable objects....but why not? I have 100,000 bulbs.
Flowers are a weakness of mine.
Should you be in the neighborhood, stop by for coffee and a stroll through the woods and gardens.
I have been thinking that this year I will move outside and paint flowers....I really don't do landscapes let alone recognizable objects....but why not? I have 100,000 bulbs.
Flowers are a weakness of mine.
Should you be in the neighborhood, stop by for coffee and a stroll through the woods and gardens.
