You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Pain’ tag.

Although, as yet, unsuccessful

No fault be found in trying

Never to manipulate

Never insincere

Always honest

Always pure


Hope, most likely, will be shattered

Trust freely given, sadly broken

Respect, unearned, surely forsaken


Of the kind and generous spirit

Advantage will be taken

Yet no thing done in the seeking

Shall ever be regretted


Though beginning, vague and without substance

It grows sharper with each disappointment

Becoming more defined with each heartbreak

Through the hurt

Through the sorrow

Clearly now I see

My heart’s true desire


I seek a love . . . I can depend on

Not just today, tonight, tomorrow

Not just next week, next month, next season

Not just the next few years to come


I seek a love . . . To last the rest of my life


Feeling for the road now

Yearning, yearning

Feeling on the rise

Burning, burning


Never such a feeling

Dreaming, dreaming

Never such a cry

Screaming, screaming


Road calls to me now

Non-stop, can’t stop

Road calls to me now

Can’t stop, won’t stop



Never such a yearning, burning

Never such a dreaming, screaming

Never such a cry, staying such a lie


Feeling for the road now

Yearning, yearning

Rubber meets road now

Turning, turning


Road calls to me now

Non-stop, can’t stop

Road calls to me now

Can’t stop, won’t stop

Yeah, yeah


Yes, Virginia . . . faeries are real.

And some of them do wear boots, Ozzy!


Picked up a nifty, little fridge magnet.  I hate it when people cover their fridge with magnets, but this is a small one and all alone.  Its about an inch, round, white button and not so much to look at, still what it says . . .


“Never apologize for your art!”


Got it in an artsy, little town in Oregon, that and a ring for my lover.  He’d been looking for so long . . . banded, Celtic knots wide enough for a man.  Now he wears it everyday.


Nope, he doesn’t have a job yet.

Nope, I don’t think he’s looking.

Nope, I have no idea what to do about it.

All I know is that I love him and want him . . . period.


I’m beginning to think we don’t pick the people we love deeply.

Fate, karma, repeating lives, destiny, dumb luck, what-the-fuck.


There was another man

A while back

Found a picture on the Internet

No, not mine . . .

Okay, that too

Picture was a simple

Lined, journal-type page

Hand-lettering declaring


“Art is what you can get away with.”


So here’s my art.


Random thoughts

As they run through

My mind


Random fears

As they chill

My heart


Random lust

As it warms

My loins


Random loves

As they destroy

My life


Random ideas

As they save

My soul


No apology . . . define “get away with.”  LOL.


Met a talented and nice lady

Southern Oregon is a pretty cool place

Neat towns and people

My bestest friend lives there

I think I’d like to live in SoOre


I’d go tomorrow

Got my ball and chain though

Great American Dream


Nothing more than another trap

A different kind of nightmare


Can’t go, must wait.

I hate waiting

I want to go now!


Blue with white capsules

In the morning

Little white and yellow pills

In the evening


Trying not to feel



Trying not to feel



Trying not to feel



Trying not to feel



Trying not to feel



Is it prose? Is it poetry? Is it fiction?


“There’s only one person in the room.”


Do you hear me?


Is it ending?
Can it be over just that fast?
Is it loving?
Where the hope it might last?

I think he’s found another lover
No woman, nothing so low
He goes to a place I cannot follow
So once again, I am alone

His embrace not there to warm me
His life I do not know
His heart does draw away from me
So painfully, so slow

My sadness overwhelms me
Still my age-old fears subside
My release to him of all of me
Once more withdraws inside

Tis bittersweet my aching
How do I say goodbye?
Truly how long do we carry on
Before its all a lie?

Waiting is pain
Struggle past tears

Brooding is angst
Suppression of fears

Feeling is risk
Contained sad emotion

Caring is lost
In life’s mad commotion

Losing all hope
There is no returning

No love for real
Hard lesson she’s learning

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December 2022