Thursday, May 9, 2013

Poems about my New Found Love

Identity

He asks me to be myself
to not let his likes/dislikes influence me.
But who am I, really,
without someone suggesting, guiding, telling,
teaching, preaching, behaving.

"Do what you would do by yourself
without me here," he says,
"Then just include me into your life."

I would attend church at Wakanda on Sundays.
I would go to local theatre performances
at the State, at the Mabel, at the Grand.
I would drink coffee at the Raw Deal
and Grand Ave. Café.
I would read and write and dialogue.
I would stay in school for love of learning.

He tells me that's who he wants to be with,
that person who enjoys all those things
not the things he enjoys.

"Can I be a part of your world?" he asks.

"You already are," I say, "because you introduced
me to me."

My Boyfriend Shows Me How to Interpret My Mirror Image

Look. Just look in the mirror and see how cute
you are.

Rosy, red cheeks and nose, messed up hair.
You are cute.

Look. Just look at your life, how amazing it is.
You are wonderful.

Look. Just look at your smile.
You are happy.

See. I want you to see how you can give
the thing you want most to yourself: acceptance.

Just be you.

Just be the great person you are.

Surface to Face
suggested by Proverbs 27:19 "As in water face answereth to face,
so the heart of man to man."

He is a pool of water
clear to his sandy floor.
My face looks out of his eyes.
A reflection of my features
washed in his refreshing droplets.

"I want you to choose what is best for you
and what you need to feel healthy because
I choose you. Because I care for you very
deeply."

The words he whispers
satisfy the parched dryness on my heart.

I Want to Experience HARVEST

Happiness. Just once experiencing those
                   scintillating thrills of the fruits of a rewarding relationship.
Acceptance. Allowing myself to just be
                     content with the effort I put in and he puts in.
Rest. A place to practice acceptance
         in the time and space we have created.
Vivacity. Feeling alive
                with the joy and love surrounding us.
Earnest. Sincerity in what I am living
              in relationship to Harvest and he to me.
Set. A firm, specified place or position
       knowing who we are in this dynamic.
Telepathy. Communicate thoughts and ideas by sheer wanting to do so
                   and to fill the empty time and space when we are apart.

Knowing Love

Feeling each fingertip of pressure
as my love pats my back
I sigh in his embrace encompassing my body.

In the silence of the moment a burst of one
thousand pieces of glass like silver
confetti rain on my lap.

I HATE cystinosis. I tremble at the word.
"I just realized for the first time that I hate
...
living with a terminal illness."

"Shhhh. Sweetie. Look at me.
We're here now, okay?
I wouldn't want to be with anybody else."

My shoulders stop heaving
My eyes stop streaming drops of pain
I fall against his chest and am happy in the moment.

For if such an intertwining of
two different lives could result
in such deep affection for the
other life, who better blessed
to bestow this love on than the girl
forced to face her own mortality
every eight hours?

Who would sing the praises of a man
lonely since birth and who would
write the wonder of a God in Heaven
Who showers His love on humankind
than the girl who confronts her
demons of her past every night?

No one else but the soul who
has endured evil within her
being and without her body
could accurately describe
how victorious a life can be
when love's desire is fulfilled.

The hairline fractures of her heart
are fused together with tears
and the tears of her eyes are stopped
with the kisses of her beloved and that
is contentment; that is life set free
by the glories of God her King.
 

No comments:

Post a Comment