This isn't about a literal person, but about a former addiction. The concept was inspired by the words of King Solomon to his son:
The Dangerous Woman
She waited by the road And whispered as I passed. Quiet, quiet.
I didn't catch the words, And so I turned aside. Listened, harkened.
Please come and sit with me, She offered airily, Smiling, guiling.
We sat and talked a while. She touched my hand and soothed; Gently, sweetly.
While with her cunning skill She forged and wove a chain; Bound me, drowned me.
She robbed me of my home And filled my life with pain; Laughing, scoffing.
But now I see her face, And now I know her name: Villain, robber.
Yet I am not alone And God unlocks my chain. Sees me, frees me.
I'm wiser than before, But wish for wisdom more. Patient, quiet.
Listening, praying. Working, hoping, winning.
@JoyfulHeart, this is achingly beautiful. Well written. Thank you for sharing.
Thank YOU, @Mela_B!
It's been 5 1/2 years since I wrote it, and I'm glad to say that my journey has been upward from that point. The joy that I have now is made even brighter, having been set in sharp relief by the pain of the past.
I am glad to hear that. I understand, I carry pain. Sometimes the weight of the past is difficult to drag into tomorrow, but you're right, it provides a contrast.
I must admit As I submit these words that are all true. You are now gone but my love is deeper for you. I would give my life for one last kiss. How I miss the way you taste. Your led bright eyes always put a smile on my face. I’m sorry friends and family if you think I’m a disgrace. For this choice I’m gonna make. I make no mistake in the next life I will awake to her
The Laundress (by me!)
Sweat-scented sheets which once wrapped legs and limbs, limbered by love and lust and expansive, demonstrative selves now sit clean and sterile, cast aside on a lonely shelf like trophies commemorating a sport no longer played.
You folded them crisply with your distant hands, just before you left.
Reduced by one to one, lessened when your key, removed from the lock for the last time, was pressed into my sweating, salty palm: its green rubber cap matching your fading eyes.
I kiss it as you recede, bronze tart on my tongue, softer than your heart.
I've enjoyed these poems by famous poets, and especially by you folks yourselves. In that vein, here's one of mine (don't worry; I'm not a cannibal):
Come and taste the people! How delightful! What a dish! Juicier than tenderloin And flakier than fish.
They’re candied and they’re gravied, So don’t worry, they taste fine! You’ll like them even better With a glass or two of wine.
Precautions have been taken To extract the heart and liver And all the vital organs At the thought of which you shiver.
We’ve tenderized the tough meat So that you could have the best! We serve the people haute-cuisine, So put your fears to rest!
Come one! Come all! They’re tasty! And they’re oh-so-much-improved! Everything about them that was Human’s been removed!
Copyright © 1987 Daniel Greene
I wrote this one to celebrate a friend's struggle and ultimate triumph over addiction (in the analogy, she's a honeybee, which is the meaning of her name):
Phoebe’s Flight
Melissa’s flight on pap’ry wing Drew close to earth, consumed in flame Bitter ashes, tears that sting, An end to mirth, a sense of shame.
But not in ashes cold and gray, Nor in the tears, nor lost in death Were where the “sweet” and “gold” now lay: She throws off fears and takes on breath.
Now clothed in flame, she surges high. Not only sweet, but also strong: And for a moment treads the sky. In joy complete her heart gives song.
But not in strong and sweet alone Could she sustain, nor wings uphold. The soaring flame fell like a stone, Returned to shame, extinguished, cold.
But once again, she triumphs, leaps! To “sweet and strong” adds “pure and bright”. No longer in despair she creeps: Melissa! Phoenix! Phoebe-white!
Villon’s Straight Tip To All Cross Coves
by William Earnest Henley
Suppose you screeve? Or go cheap-jack? Or fake the broads? Or fig a nag? Or thimble-rig? Or knap a yack? Or pitch a snide? Or smash a rag?
Suppose you duff? Or nose and lag? Or get the straight And land your pot? How do you melt The multy swag?
Booze and the blowens Cop the lot.
Fiddle, or fence, Or mace, or mack; Or moskeneer, Or flash the drag; Dead-lurk a crib, Or do a crack; Pad with a slang, Or chuck a fag; Bonnet, or tout, Or mump and gag; Rattle the tats, Or mark the spot; You can not bank A single stag;
Suppose you try A different tack, And on the square You flash your flag? At penny-a-lining Make your whack, Or with the mummers Mug and gag? For nix, for nix The dibbs you bag! At any graft, no matter what, Your merry goblins Soon stravag:
It’s up the spout And Charley Wag With wipes and tickers And what not. Until the squeezer Nips your scrag,
Weary of kissing frogs and hugging snakes, Of stepping barefoot on dead grass, You often blame life for the unavoidable ugliness And run away to hide!
Stratagems for avoiding what is Repetive, unkown or unpleasant Require endless additions of new Psychological makeup. You want the colorful rose but not its thorns, The loving touch of Sun and wind Not tornadoes and burned skin Yet, no mud no lotus my dear! -Ayni Poet
@Melomaniac9 Speaking of frogs, here's one written by, um, well.... I'd say, but modesty prevents me:
The pretty young princess of Prague Wrote fanciful tales on her blague. The prince, who was Czech, She'd kissed on the nzech, When he had the form of a frague.
@JoyfulHeart 😂😂love it!! I have a fascination with frogs & elephants 🤦🏽♀️
@Melomaniac9
The elephant packed up his trunk, With various pieces of junk. He didn't feel well Because of the smell: His packing included a skunk.
@JoyfulHeart 😂😂😂 this ones too good
@Melomaniac9 Thanks! I have a bunch of animal ones. 🤓
I love frogs so much! Great poetry 😊
@Mela_B Thanks!
we used to rise with the dawn our spirits elegantly entwined. now we climb from each night like passengers from a wrecked ship. there is no sweetness for me left upon your lips, there are no prayers left scribbled like scripture on my hips. you can seduce the bedsheets, and I'll be gone by the time you wake. see, i've never been good at negotiating, so what I propose is this - i'll let you keep the bright memory, if you let me keep the dull ache.
-Mela B.
@Mela_B That is hauntingly beautiful and tragic.
@JoyfulHeart thank you. My poetry is most often cathartic.
@Mela_B
Damn…
I loved that, and hated it…
@CharlesThePoet indeed. All part of life, alas.
One of my favorites.
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling) i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
-ee cummings
@Spud424, yes, absolutely love ee Cummings.
@Spud424
There is e.e.cummings and then there is everybody else.
Well, there's Walt Whitman, as well.
Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you, You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream,) I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you, All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured, You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me, I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only, You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return, I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone, I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again, I am to see to it that I do not lose you.
I write dark stuff. Who would've guessed? 🖤
Folds of Darkness
They’ll think the worst. Driving with my baby, Colt 45 they’ll pry from your cold dead hands. And from mine, the poem I wrote to make it romantic.
We knew too much but nothing real, like how some live in the thick of it, padded by riches, oblivious to back alley needles, graffiti under bridges.
They’ll find meaning on a touchscreen. Autocorrect might suggest a fitting phrase or two of platitudes, which read a little off in their heads.
Emoji bookends add a nice touch of clarity and context. Just look at all the Likes. What’s on my mind? I still can’t show you that side of me. Would it kill you to see the do or die of me?
Still-life, snapshots, Stop-motion in strobe lights, blinding flickers of composure illuminated through chaos. You can’t see what I hide in the folds of darkness inside my heart when the flash goes off and the shutter closes.
Ones like you always seem to end up with ones like me. You like to tell me it’ll be okay. Deep inside, I fumble for lies, grip them tightly behind clenched teeth. Truth is hard to swallow– my truth will choke you, “You’re probably right.”
I post my poem, you take a swig. I tell you to smile. You’ll never see it coming, not from a mile. When the flash goes off, the shutter closes on one last drive. One ordinary night, death becomes a life event larger than a Like itself.
That is phenomenal 👆
snaps Ever performed that? It reads like a good slam.
So many phenomenal poets here. @Mela_B Thank you! Loved yours too, it was heart breaking. I also loved @JoyfulHeart The Dangerous Woman and @nurturingman Tasty People (?) My top three. Thanks for the thread!
@Big_Chris No. I'm too shy in real life. Lol Thank you though!