Divorce, Single Parenting, Dating, Sex, & Self-Recovery

Posts tagged “love poems

more than a love poem

mylove[from strange horizons poems]

a love day
to celebrate the year of changes
and deep understanding

seeing you again today for the first time
i am reminded how easy you are to adore
that first laugh infected my heart
pulling me out of a slumber
brave and strong

aspiring to stand beside you

reflecting back
brief moments of joy
and belonging


into the heart of the sun

OFF-tinymartha[from the collection nyc m]

if i were more excited
more alive
more in love
i’m not sure
i could remain on the planet
any longer
i’m fairly sure
that one more epiphany
a word choice or sound
might do the trick
i think
as i imagine how i’d go
it would be
as if in a hot air balloon
with no balloon
and no sound or flashes of fire
i would float
above this majestic mess
and continue on my way
until the air ran out
or the sun
sucked me in to its heart
with a smile and a song
even in losing everything
even you
i would know love
and joy beyond measure
that’s how i feel
everyday i wake up next to
most amazing



[from the collection nyc m]

and what if i were to tell you
to actually let. you. know.
for sure
that love
in all it’s many splendored splinters
is true
that it’s still possible in your life
no matter
no time
no hurt
has taken away your potential to love
we ache for the oporutnity
to pour ourselves into another person
and sometimes we forget
we have that person but we miss
we slip into something
other than
but even then
even now
in this second
you can turn it around
you you you
can take a breath
make a change
and keep yourself
angled in the right direction

it’s not easy
i’m not trying to kid
or sell you a load
but i am here
to at least deliver the good news
love has struck
right here
right in this very moment
and you are now witness
to a great moment
a longing beyond ages
a fracture that felt unrepairable
two people
wandering wondering questioning
and in

finding something so
pro. found.
clear and present
that the time stretched and compressed all at once
and we knew
just knew

everything since that moment has been a confirmation
a testing without testing
a smile and tickle
a laugh and launch toward what we had almost imagined
but we never gave up
not completely
never lost sight
in this second
right here
i can only tell you
that the love of my life
took 52 years to show up
to deliver me
from sadness and aloneness


love times five


[from the collection nyc m]

word and hand
finger and smile
you are here
and all the world
is rushing by
oblivious to the transformation
taking place
right here
between us
underneath the daytime stars
in and around
strawberry fields
of joy


is the last


we will spend
this far away
as we surge forward
a new
new celebration
for our friends
of what we’ve known
the week
we first kissed


calling all lovers


[from strange horizons poems]

doesn’t your soul love to travel
isn’t your heart ready to soar
and in these moments when you are grounded
can’t you still taste the salt
remember the heat
and anticipation of a kiss
memory of the burning
and skin worn glow


image: secret kiss, kristen, creative commons usage

shooting arrows at the moon


[from strange horizons poems]

i have work to do
and i’m thinking about women again
the absence of them, actually
in my life
in the romantic sense
i’ve got sister, daughter, niece, and mom
and not a single bosom to lay my head
this time of year
it’s a problem
or at least a hardship
of course, it is no different than last year
except i’d just come off a deep jag
with a beautiful young mom
who had a penchant for silences
and filling them with music videos
fancy meals and drugs
i couldn’t sustain
the celebration
long enough to understand or feel
how our connection might evolve
into a higher…
a more solid…
it wasn’t about that
let’s be honest
she was 11 years younger
she was beautiful
she was willing
is there any further explanation needed
i would do with her comfort today
tonight, rather
and yet, i wait and hunger
with intention
it *is* the evolution i’m seeking
a transformation of some sort
of me
of my trajectory
and flights of fancy
my arrow is aimed at the moon
and i will settle for nothing less
than overwhelming joy


image: goldion moon, johnathan leung, creative commons usage

before the transformation


[from a second wave – poetry]

and in the rush the throng the bustle
i love you more than ever
where ever you may be
in this blackest of all black fridays
so far from me at this moment
yet so close in flame and spirit
i am prepping myself for your arrival
with strengthening exercises and lip balm
making playlists for lovemaking
and perfecting breakfast routines
it’s no wonder, no mystery, why you’re hiding
the ache inside each of us
has not synchronized
the destabilization of our old lives
is still in progress
time before
and time after
your arrival


ready for the yes

OFF-randomgirls-300[from a second wave – poetry]

i fall too easily
into the curls
of the woman in the green dress
a shape and form of attractive proportions
and i would say yes
to whatever she suggested
before she’s even had a chance to speak
thus is the romantic
and the poet
captivated by beauty
driven by desires
unspoken yet captured
in this random scattering of letters

i amuse myself
with this whimsical passion
and flights of fancy towards bright ringlets
usually i’m drawn to darker locks
but still the yearning is real
i am the poet of longing
of imagining my lover into existence
if that was how it worked

but i don’t need to capture her
only this song this prayer this appreciation
i don’t need to smell her perfume
or hear the sound of her voice
talking about things i might find less alluring
and there she is
whole, complete, perfect
and distant

this is not what i want
i want close skin
whispered passions
raucous laughter
i want to be loved back
to be fascinated by the curve of an ankle
the tease of a toe peering out of a sandal
but not the promise
not the imagination of her
i am ready for her
the woman
the yes
“what’s next”


image: random girls, thomas xu, creative commons usage

The Honey Trap: How Beauty Can Lead Us Astray


My first two marriages were initiated and founded on beauty. In two very different ways, I was drawn in by the stunning good looks of both women, to the point of overlooking a number of warning signs that things might not go as planned. And it’s probably not their good looks that drive their lives, they weren’t like model-types, but they were, and still are, quite good-looking. I was captivated by that beauty in a way that was unhealthy. I am trying to educate my way out of this trap, but it’s not easy.

It is very easy to get way ahead of the relationship when the chemistry is hot. It is easy to overlook incompatibilities and misses when the lust factor is overriding your brain.

Walking along the lake-side trail this morning I was fascinated by the tremendous variety of women walking by, running by, laughing by, and just going on about their business, with little or no notice of me. But I noticed them. I always notice. It’s sort of the animal part of my brain, I think. I’m not lusting after then, just observing.

And some of the things I’m attracted to are sort of amazing to me. Take the new trend in athletic tops for women. I love all the fancy crisscrossing straps, the bright colors, the mixes and matches of sports bra, top, and skin. I love it. I am fascinated by it. And you can see the designers are into it as well. The variety in color, shape, and sparkle is amazing. And it has very little to do with the beauty, but it has a lot to do with the attraction.

Scent is another indicator that is often overlooked. But when a beautiful (from what I can see) woman passes by running past me and she leaves a slight scent of eucalyptus or mint I’m intrigued in an even deeper way. It’s an odd thing, the lingering scent of a woman as she runs away from you. The metaphor is too close to reality.

When I ran into the high school friend who would later become my wife, she came in and hugged me rather easily. It was a happy greeting for both of us. “So you’re married?” “No,” she said, “Divorced.” “Me too!” I rejoined with a bit too much enthusiasm. And we were connected and fascinated into the next rounds of courtship. But her hug left a touch of her perfume on my neck. And the rest of the day I could not get away from it. I didn’t want to. But I was also sort of mesmerized by the way she stayed with me for the rest of the day. Like a smile. Just another signal of something, desire perhaps.

I am full of desire. And when I don’t have an object for my affection (a relationship) I project that romance on to everyone who passes by. It’s a hunger that is slightly unhealthy, but when observed and checked, pretty harmless. But I notice my own hunger, and observe my silly misconnections. For example, the amazing runner who passes by, with all the signs of “YES” when caught up to at the water stop, I see she is very different from the front. It’s the face and eyes that hold so much of the soul, the chemistry information. And even that, the chemistry, the spark, is a trap.

I know I am an excitable boy. I know my projections, my love poems, my illusions, are my own. This woman cannot fulfill my hopes and dreams.

And what I mean by trap is this: it is very easy to get way ahead of the relationship when the chemistry is hot. It is easy to overlook incompatibilities and misses when the lust factor is overriding your brain. And the further you go down the sexual connection before establishing the friendship connection, the deeper you get into the trap of beauty. The heat and lust and beauty drive our animal instincts, and we find satisfaction of many of our needs in that simple animal connection. Yes, this is true. BUT… There is so much more necessary for a relationship to work. The compatibility and friendship can be overwhelmed by the rush to bed.

So when I find myself projecting too heavily at the backs a pretty runners in LuLuLemon matching tops, glistening with energy and effort, I laugh at myself and my mystical imaginings. Beauty is a big part of the equation, for me. But the beauty aspect must be tempered with all the other aspects of the relationship. I’m lucky, I am getting to experience some of that craving with a woman, today, who is really wanting to go slow.

It’s a good thing, this slowness. I know I am an excitable boy. I know my projections, my love poems, my illusions, are my own. This woman cannot fulfill my hopes and dreams. I have to fill those for myself. She can, however, become a treasured companion, all in good time. I don’t know the pace of things. I don’t know what dating should look like.

I really don’t know what the word LOVE means. But I know what it feels like. That’s not good enough. Pacing the relationship, regardless of the attraction and chemistry, even sexual heat, is the only way I can think of to temper the beauty trap. Because as we age the beauty changes, and our love and affection should only grow deeper. That’s the hope, anyway. The process of learning the other person’s rhythm and habits is a process. Jumping into “RELATIONSHIP” too fast is also a dangerous trap. I want it. But I know it’s not what makes for clarity and understanding.

I want to know. I feel it, but I need to know what our time together is like. And what’s the only way for this understanding? Time.

I like to say, time is on our side. We should not be in a hurry. It’s like a mantra for me. But it’s a mantra that I’m using to try to slow myself and my big romantic heart down. I could lose myself again, and miss the disconnects that ultimately derailed both my marriages. And whether I get married again or not, is not even relevant. All I have is this time, this moment, and today I am happily plodding along, in spite of the beauty trap, and learning at a slower pace, how our lives MIGHT fit together. And man, is it too early to start thinking about that. Really.


The Off Parent

< back to On Dating Again

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image: stars on her back, the author, july 3, 2014, creative commons usage allowed

What Is A Love Poem?

Screen Shot 2013-10-20 at 10.10.14 AM

Why does love elude accurate descriptions? Why is love perhaps the most sought after ghost and the song most sung by those of us who feel?

And the love letter too. So sad that such delicate work is not more widely shared. Often the masterpiece of passion and longing is shared by only two. Is it the privacy that makes it special. Is it the voyeurism that makes them so tasty to read?

Putting love, or our fleeting attempts to capture love, is a grand tradition. I am doing nothing unique or especially different. Of course, my word stream for it will be different from yours. Do you let yours out? If you gave expression to a love poem, right now, what would that sound that ringing of letters tell about your feelings.

Each love poem is a measure of the heart. Often those measurements and mappings are colored by the day’s events. Occasionally they are triggered by a smell, a memory, a glimpse of a photograph that held a tiny sliver of magic.

If we open up our own hearts, opening the veins a little, and let the expressions tumble out, even just for ourselves, we become more familiar with the soundings of our hearts. And as we get more comfortable with the process an amazing thing begins to happen. There is more love.

As we pay attention to certain things they become more important in our lives. And what is more important than love?

Word by word I try to get down something of my longing, quickly, unedited, and with the full force of my feelings. As best I can. But there are many things in the way of a love poem. Chores. Money requirements and thus work. Sadness. (Though finding a voice for the sadness is a way to release what might be underneath, longing for love.)

And poetry is not for everyone. Perhaps a clearly written love letter would be more to the point.

However for me, there is great freedom in allowing my heart and linguistic brain to try to hook up for a moment. Bypassing the editorial board for a minute, I occasionally achieve a satisfying result. But even the bad poems have a purpose. Even writing a poor love letter is better than not expressing that love at all.

Something about letting the expression out of your heart, through your words and sounds and letters on a page, that gives room for more. Each love poem inspires the next. And if you can nurture that “lover’s voice” wouldn’t you rather be speaking in tongues, than writing up another to-do list?

Each. Poem. Has. Value.

And if you write love poems or love letters, focusing on LOVE is a powerful medicine. And the transformation takes place without any effort once you let the flow start. Your heart and language begin to connect more frequently. You see things as LOVE again. You observe love or lack of love in the world, but rather than squelch it off you give voice to your feelings on the subject. It’s a process of opening yourself again to love and loving.

And of course, love is dangerous. If I let myself fall into a poetic trance and forget to pick up my child from school, there are consequences. If I muse for the entire afternoon without getting my work for money done, I’m not serving my life very well.

So love poems have to be tucked into our lives where ever and when ever we can find the impulse. There are so many distractions and requirements that would rather us not pay attention to our hearts, our impulses towards beauty. But with each turning back towards the heart, with each sounding out of a poem of desire, we strengthen that voice in our lives.


The Off Parent

image via creative commons use – beauty in death