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

Posts tagged “poetry of the off parent

be as beautiful as you are

OFF-youthswim[from a second wave – poetry]

buoyancy and energy
the highs of youth
and challenges going forward
if it’s youth you want
you’ll have to pay
for gravity defying breasts
another alteration of obsession
but the body is temporal
we change, fade, grow, bend
we move into new phases
of beauty and beautiful
if the light is out within
there is no fitness routine
no crossfit lover who can
help us respark our fire
this journey of love
has its cost and benefits
we are alive but once
if we are complaining
and always wishing for more
less, other
we are missing so much
of what

be cute
be happy
be as beautiful as you are
at this very minute

nothing can change your joy
and nothing is as attractive
as the smile that opens
across your face
burns in your eyes
as we look at each other
in the fading twilight
and years of negotiations
with gravity and coffee
and resistance and sleep

there is more in your smile
then in a thousand youthful breasts
and yours are just as i like them
attached to your


image: cancún, carlos mendoza lima, creative commons usage

joy or i’m gone


[from a second wave – poetry]

twenty women walk into the upscale coffee shop
i am noticing what is attractive to me
fitness, beauty, swagger
or is it what’s radiating or not radiating
from within
you can see joy a mile away
a feeling that’s coming off the happy ones
is dramatically missing from those
less joyful
and that’s more important than the fitness
underneat the lululemons
or the Porsche she parked just outside
shining and waxed in the sunlight
almost painful to look at
in brilliance, power, and lust
i am free here
to look
and drink my Italian sparkling water


any muse will do

OFF-annas-mustache[from a second wave – poetry]

at the back of her neck
her hair is cut short
exposing the gentlest
and most delicious part
and her smile, though aimed away
is infectious
and her walk
and black shirt
falling off one shoulder
oh, but she’s young
they often are
these sirens
as she sips the coffee
and drops a few coins
in the thank you box
and gone
without a glance or care
towards my typing character
in some suburban library
tapping and internetting
and writing poems
to her


image: Il baffi di Anna (anna’s mustache), SCassandraALverde, creative commons usage

new entry


[from a second wave – poetry]

if i were to write you another love poem
starting with touch, taste, smell, and sound
or your sparkling eyes
and smile
i would need new words
of boundless joy
and easy laughter
and some extra ingredient
like chemistry
like an experiment
in mixing flammables with more stable liquids
fluid and frictionless
some new lubrication
of lost expectations
or misplaced and misdirected
at the angle of entry
between us


image: absinth ritual, danielle blue, creative commons usage

goodnight and go

[from a second wave – poetry]

every snapshot in my mind
of your beautiful smile
the voice that rubs a warm spot
in my chest
i am fascinated
in tow by heartstrings
un-before discovered
played now
like some fine symphony
bowed or plucked strummed
and ringing with joy


image: imogen heap, promo photo, creative commons usage

Screen Shot 2014-08-07 at 12.15.32 PM

a dream undone


[from a second wave – poetry]

i see the image of stairs leading upward and away
and i think of leaving you, or of what was left long ago
it’s an exit or a return, a dream undone
of travel, and escape, decay and breakdown
any repairable years have been lost, all is lost
and yet, there is the arriving or departing
the traveling and hope that is still captured
in ascending motion towards another future
what’s past is gone and overgrown
there are devils and snakes there
in that house we built and dreamed up together
it’s not as if i’d like to return
not to the house of my father either
it’s a pause
almost a prayer of …
delayed gratification
or no gratification at all
a reflection of moments unlived
and children unfathered mid-childhood
the gate remains closed to me
and the armies of decay have set in
where we once ate delirious breakfasts
hopeful lunches and spirited dinners
everything was ahead and above us
like the stairway to our adult lives
each step a new milestone along our emergence
into moms and dads
with arms already beginning to show their weariness
as we carried each other
and these marvelous bouncing cherubs
i’m not sure when the weeds began to take hold
but i am sure you saw them first
and wished that I would save the stairs
without having to be told there were issues
and if i didn’t know and you didn’t say
the roots took hold and began to break the foundation
whisper quiet and relentless

i am no longer writing you love poems
they are about other women, other moments
hopes, reflections, and dreams
but you stopped hearing my voice
as you were overwhelmed by the fear or antipathy
and the poem, pray, song, hand across your back
no longer brought a blush to your cheeks
and as the green tendrils continued their march
you could hear nothing but the crumbling stone
as you hovered and worried over the boy
and championed and cuddled with the girl
and left me alone night after night
it was no happy palace we were defending
there were no defenders and no calvary to call
only us
and the house that leaked
and the babies that cried
and the emptiness
of the first ice storm
we should’ve bundled together
but we bungled apart
and the weeds were covered and forgotten
by one of us
and held as evidence by the other

the cold halls
and icy rooms
under dank blankets
in separate rooms
with the dangerous night
and clicking of sleet
and ticking of a clock
that was louder than any hearts
left inside


image: found via g+, no attribution, creative commons usage

temper the joy

OFF-final-cut-300[from a second wave – poetry]

with potentially dangerous epiphanies
i learned to temper the joy
hide the enthusiasms
mistrust the high
i could not contain
i tried many strategies
tell no one
tell selected few
tell my therapist
none worked very well
epiphanies may be between you and god
see… that right there is the problem
saying stuff like that
gets you in time out
and adult time out is much worse
then kid time out
so for now…
this time…
this joy

i’ll keep between me

you fill in that blank for yourself
no, it’s okay, i’m good


image: the final cut, robb north, creative commons usage

dark woundings of my own


[from a second wave – poetry]

the precision in a glass of wine
loosening the tongue just enough
to truthfully expose the inner heart
the pumping seething heart
rich red with healthy passion
or black blue with choked off pain
i cannot stand in your way
nor cushion your deep slide this time
my target is moving now
released by your trigger finger
and slippery anger-joke-anger
mad, just kidding, is still mad
and opening the door
date-night door, as well
with “i’m mad” is a sure sign
as sure as the slight slur
almost imperceptible, almost passable
but the message uncoiled and venomous
was unfiltered this time, by feints and jests
and the bile poured on the floor between us
what could’ve caused the flood
releasing pent-up frustrations and …
a deathly release from being loved
a striking to keep from feeling
a fear greater than being loved
a fear of loving and losing again

i can’t survive this poison
i’ve seen too clearly the trajectory of loss
disappointment and un. met. expectations.
i survived this song long ago
so long, i no longer want to do the dance
around the venomous tongue
the wounded and striking viper
i won’t go back to charming
starring with glassy eyes, praying
playing the flute
hoping for a long and happy life
i failed my snake charming class
and burned the books
branded with my F
but released from that prison
of dangerous shadows and unknown traps
i am released and recovering
from dark woundings of my own
i won’t take on more
no matter
what the





image: models dive 25 meters, bejamin von wong, creative commons usage

please stay gone

[from a second wave – poetry]

i can’t take it back
you’ve got it
our love has spawned
these beautiful

and when you’ve got them
i am ultimately alone
alone in an ultimate way
a way i never anticipated
as we looked ahead
our mad plans
and said

i don’t
and i can’t imagine
what misguided joy caused you
to send me photos
happy photos
i guess you’re showing me
“our kids” are so happy


are you in any of the pictures

so i can put you up on my mantle
if i had a mantle

please leave yourself out
your smile still hurts
the ache now is for them
and the loss of any seconds
with them
you were my world
you are gone
please stay gone

thank you


for the story read: divorce support

image: dad and kid on the beach, dinuraj k, creative commons usage

Screen Shot 2014-07-30 at 6.09.47 AM

some distant storm


[from a second wave – poetry]

i know you do not understand
and i have resigned to that knowledge
there is no concrete image or metaphor now
that will bring things back around
to set the world on its proper path again
once we have tasted love, heat, desire, unlimited
we are hungry forever
unafraid in the quest for breast and bone beneath
i cannot take away your joy
or smooth out the creases of this life
but the days can move easier in my arms
we walk alone down this new dusty path
and rain clouds seem always on the horizon
things are different now
fractures and scars they say are stronger
but a ghost of the pain remains
no matter how tough we appear
how confident this voice you think i sing
each love song for you
even before we’ve met
i knew you’d arrive
as long as i kept singing
but as this night falls
again with some storms between us
i cannot help but feel the rise of the hair
on the back of my neck
warning of the storm
the flashes of brilliance
followed by clusters of noise
it is no easy task loving another person
there is no sudden unlocking
but as we uncover each new inch of skin
and listen to the complaints and joys
hearing deeply for the resonance
we begin to open
grasp again at some dream
of what we had
what we would become
how things might still
this one time


image: rain? set, cj romberger (cjromb), creative commons usage



[from a second wave – poetry]

let’s get wet
and forget about the consequences
flood our senses
with cinnamon and scars

each inhale of you
i take another step
towards some cliff
of exhilaration

in the sun
your glisten
happy laugh
and arch of your back

this maybe the only moment
nothing before or after
can touch our now






an infinite goodbye

[from a second wave – poetry]

the next time I saw her
i was unable to look in her eyes
too much had passed
words that should’ve never been spoken
and i didn’t want to see
the smile, the body, the hair eyes breasts and skin
that i adored for years and years
now stripped from my grasp
from beneath my fingers
i no longer had beauty beside me
and in my loneliness
i found
how we’d never been quite honest with one another
she’d not told me of her trespasses
and I had taken the path of non-resistance
and left her alone
in the bed
trying to sleep
rather than make love
we were tired
she deserved her rest
i fell
through the cracks
and let my energy dissipate
with every night i did not demand
that she love me back
that she receive my touch
that she reclaim her own joy
the part I had fallen in love with
it was not my part to recover her
so i fiddled
and complained
but did not demand
my fully empowered wife
to reignite
perhaps it was …
no it was both of us
it was nobody’s fault
but mine



image: Olivia Arezzolo by Gervin Puse, creative commons usage

don’t tell me how it ends

[from a second wave – poetry]

OFF-smashi close my eyes
hoping not to notice
the numbing sadness
overtaking my momentum
not this time i say
i’m detached and calm
cool and moving forward

except we were so close
well, except
for the fears
and slips in judgement
and chemical release
that held us to the breast

letting me down
closing my eyes
don’t tell me how it ends
i’m just beginning



image: smash, anthony topper, creative commons usage

it’s three o’clock


[from a second wave – poetry]

once more i find myself alone
it’s not as if you could come with me
that’s silly
it’s a thought

i take you with me
for now
you are the object of my desire
i guess that’s good and bad

if i’m obsessed then it’s bad
if i’m just romantic it’s good
if i’m unrealistic, of course i am
you are amazing
could be

and there is the rub
the pause
the caution sign
i know, i hear you, i understand
but i don’t have to like it

and of course there are things
that don’t quite fit
that aren’t quite right in my dream
of next generation us
because i have scars
i am willing
and waiting

if today
you said
i want to be with you
i know that i would smile
if today you said
i love you
i would feel a moment of

holy shit
wait, what?

but you don’t
and i don’t
so we go along
as you have asked
side by side
sort of

and then

as well


image: kiss me, sarah (rosenau) korf, creative commons usage

a little love poem

OFF- a little love poem

[from a second wave – poetry]

it is simple
and nothing
a poem
about loving someone
you, in particular

but it is something
a nudge
a prayer and promise
in the direction

a song
a dance
a time we share


image: seaside woman with piano, artur mashnich, creative commons usage

in between

[from a second wave – poetry]

the moments in between
in pauses
i imagine you
beside me
saying something exotic
and promising
a glint in your glance
warms the cockles
sets the deepest bones
this in between time
is ours


Screen Shot 2014-06-24 at 6.57.46 PM

image: because your lips are the light of my world…, courtney carmody, creative commons usage

gone bye bye

gone bye bye


[from The Black Pages – poetry]

i no longer hold the smell, the taste, the sound of your beauty
what has been lost, an ache i will carry forever
there is no replacement, no substitute, no succor
it just a missing part, a hole in a recently protected heart
the blood has been washed away by time and effort
and the healing takes place with every kiss from another woman
a distant diversion, a diverted arc, from the dream i drew with you
forgive me for not looking directly at you tonight
i have learned to shield myself from the echoes
the electrocardiogram of revealed slivers that still remain
has given me reason to avert and avoid
it’s not you, it’s what you did
it’s what you didn’t do
it’s all behind us
it has died

bye bye


image: a warm goodbye, gabriella ferreira,creative commons usage

symphony and storm

bridge of a cello

[from Making Love To Other Women – poetry]

in symphony and storm
i lean into the idea you leave inside me
in crash and fire
song and string
i can only imagine your caress here and now
in the flashing dark
i would swallow you whole
if there were a way to take you
with me
to satisfy the hunger for your skin
and smile
and laughter
it is easier in this moment
to point out what won’t work
than to hope towards the fit we crave
the exposed heart
opened again
but the trembling drums
and flashes of brilliance
illuminate just an outline
of what is possible
of how you felt
of what i can remember

we could try and pretend
that our souls weren’t seeking connection
we can say we’re complete, alone
but we can’t deny the fireworks
and the warmth that caught our minds
when we met
when across the room
our two broken spirits
recognized a kindred ache

it might be easier to listen
to the no
the reasons for avoiding the flame
and the fearful counsel of the firefighters
and weathermen
predicting more storms ahead

but under the rumble i hear the timpani
in the shuddering booms i know the melody
and in your arms
i’ve held one more cello
tight and warm
to my chest
and listened
to your breathing
seeking echoes
or rests

in this night of symphony and storm
i hold a projection of you
who i imagine you to be
who i hoped for in previous attempts
at writing the masterpiece

today i have a few notes
some scribbled maps, burned at the edges
and a hope


image: cello bridge, andrew sutherland ,creative commons usage


against beauty

mermaid series - jesse sublett - aug 2009

[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]

the nuance is lost
when i hunger
with such intensity
i wear myself out
i cannot imagine
my heart bursting

anytime there is a glimmer
i jump with both feet
as into a fresh rain puddle
without care or map
i am reckless
and abandoned
i thrash slightly
with romantic epiphanies

there she is
beauty personified
wings folded
smile alight
there she is
smelling of salt

an easy death will not come
not little deaths
but large ones
i do not haunt or hunt
i craft and scheme
and write missives
hoping she will

here she is
within reach
still fluttering
both of us
at the closeness
and heat
and risk
of flame

i have the patience of a surgeon
and the passion of a teenage boy
i do not fumble
but ready my arrow
and give voice to flying instructions
asking for her assistance
a little lift
is required
but we pause

the is nothing simple about falling
nothing casual
about what I am craving
i fall well
i love even more intentionally
at least…
at least i imagine i will

given the chance, the shot, the siren
i will gladly crash into her
burning all maps
forgiving all plans and transgressions
as we explode
but there is no exploding
today i am only dreaming
today i am doing
my romantic poet

i can tuck this craving under a stone
and go on about my business
today has many turns left
while rubbing up against beauty
ever familiar
ever distant
inspiring yet again
without tangible evidence
that i am getting any closer
to her


image used by permission: mermaid series by jesse sublett