In Love With Love?

I was rambling through my archives today and came across this poem. Thought I’d give it a fresh airing — just ’cause I like it.


AMOEBA MAN UNDER LOVE WEIGHT

Oh, I wish I were in love.
How I love to be in love!
It’s so great to be in love —
Until you’re dumped.

Oh, but love is so exciting,
With emotions all igniting,
In the favored one delighting —
‘Til you’re dumped.

I believed in sweet romance,
Loving arms in which to dance,
Titillated by a glance —
Then I got dumped.

Now, I’m not so sure of love,
It’s so hard real love to prove,
And if I don’t fall in love —
I can’t get dumped!


Perhaps I should let my faithful readers know that this poem is not based on a true story. Actually it grew out of a brief experience I had today when I turned on the car radio and heard a song from my high school days. It took me instantly back to a restaurant where I was enjoying some time with a guy I “thought” I was semi-in-love with. Our relationship never did develop into anything serious, and for a short time, I was unhappy. However, by 5 years later, I was thanking God that I never got into anything more serious with him than a mere friendship. I do pity his wife a good deal. But as I thought about that experience, I just sat down to write a poem about how we tend to fall in love with love sometimes, and — well — this is what I ended up with.

 

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It’s So Great to Be in Love?

AMOEBA MAN UNDER LOVE WEIGHT

Oh, I wish I were in love.
How I love to be in love!
It’s so great to be in love —
Until you’re dumped.

Oh, but love is so exciting,
With emotions all igniting,
In the favored one delighting —
‘Til you’re dumped.

I believed in sweet romance,
Loving arms in which to dance,
Titillated by a glance —
Then I got dumped.

Now, I’m not so sure of love,
It’s so hard real love to prove,
And if I don’t fall in love —
I can’t get dumped!


Perhaps I should let my faithful readers know that this poem is not based on a true story. Actually it grew out of a brief experience I had today when I turned on the car radio and heard a song from my high school days. It took me instantly back to a restaurant where I was enjoying some time with a guy I “thought” I was semi-in-love with. He never did allow the relationship to develop into anything serious, and for a short time, I was unhappy. However, by 5 years later, I was thanking God that I never got into anything more serious with him than a mere friendship. I do pity his wife a good deal. But as I thought about that experience, I just sat down to write a poem about how we tend to fall in love with love sometimes, and — well — this is what I ended up with.

 

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Prompt Nights # 29: Loss & Madness

sad_face-sweat-greenThis week’s prompt delves into the various aspects of loss and the volatile  emotions it can cause — and considers the possibility that there is a strong connection between loss and madness. I’m offering two pieces for this challenge. The first is a poem that considers loss without the madness — although making the decision to let the wrong person go from our lives could very possibly help keep us from going mad. The second piece is a work of prose that I actually posted in the past in connection with an entirely different challenge, but it seemed to fit this one so well that I thought it deserved a second bow. It does include a degree of madness connected with loss

DECISION

Let him go.
It’s time to admit you’ve been a fool
And take possession back of your own soul.

At first encounter
You saw the good was mixed with bad
The right choice then by now would make you glad.

But foolish child,
You were intrigued, so closer crept
And threw out counsel that you should have kept.

“Do not touch.”
Three words so easy to understand;
Unguardedly, you opened heart and hand.

It’s harder now,
But still you have to make the choice.
And this time listen to the wiser voice.

You call it love,
But such a love that’s unrequited
Just leaves the soul living life one-sided.

Even if
He claimed to share the love you feel,
The danger of forbidden fruit is real.

Let him go.
And pray the feelings soon will die.
To hope for more would be to live a lie.

Let him go.



SECOND THOUGHTS

I’ve thought about you countless times this past year. I sometimes wish I hadn’t been so hasty to make the decision. There are days when I wake up thinking how good it would be to still have you beside me for a few hours. And, of course, every time I make the curried chicken casserole I think about you. It’s downright lonely in the kitchen these days. And I don’t even cook most of the time. I do carry-out.

I don’t order from our favorite Chinese place, though, and I don’t go in there anymore because they almost always ask me, with sadness in their eyes, how I’m doing now that you’re gone. That gentle couple who own the place really got to like you. I think you were probably their favorite customer during the three years we ate there. I miss the Chinese place, and some of the other haunts we made our own. But I’m finding new interests and new friends, and things will work out.

But — sometimes — on a summer evening — when the windows are open to the gentle night air and someone’s laughter floats across the breeze, it reminds me of your laugh. I think that’s one of the things I miss most about you. You were so abandoned when you thought something was funny. You never held back.

But then, as well as I can remember, you never held back on any emotion. And that fact, of course, is what finally led me to make my decision. You just couldn’t seem to hold back on your feelings for all the other men in your life — even my best friend — a man I’d thought would have my back through thick and thin — especially after all we’d been through together in the war. But you were just too much for him. He fell just like all the others. And so I made the decision.

Yeah — as I consider it all again now — I know it was the right thing to do. It put a stop to the hurting for me and for all the rest of ’em too.

The only thing is that — on nights like tonight — with the fragrance of the roses you planted drifting in from the garden — and the radio playing an old song we used to dance to — well — I have to admit to myself at least — I do feel just a little sorry that I poisoned you.


 

To participate in this week’s challenge, visit “A Dash of Sunny.”

 

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Tell Me A Story Saturday Writing Challenge – A Woman Scorned

 

Here’s my own story in response to my “Tell Me A Story Saturday” challenge. Just follow the link to learn how to join in the fun. This week we are writing stories of 25 words or less.

WOMAN SCORNED

 

 

 

 

 

 

A WOMAN SCORNED

Annie!  You’re attending my wedding?!”

I’m the planner.”

You?  My ex-wife?!”

Relax …. Here, this glass of champagne’s just for you …. It’ll all be over soon.”

 

 

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100-Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week # 107 – Three For One

100 WORD CHALLENGE LOGO

I’m especially excited to be taking part in Julia’s challenge this week because I also invited students of my current creative writing class to participate as well. Many of my students are just too busy to write more than what’s required for the class right now, but two of them, Erin Campbell and Lyra McCarty each submitted a 100-word poem for the challenge. I’m very proud to call them my students, and I think you will enjoy their poems.

The fact that they chose poetry for their response to the challenge is especially interesting to me because I had written a poem this time around as well and was awaiting the student submissions so that I could share all of our work in this post. 

For those of you who are not familiar with the challenge, you can find all the details on Julia’s own site at this link:
http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2013/09/30/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week107/

The prompt this week:  “… as the world turned …”
Now for the poetry:

OPREA
by Erin Campbell

A rock is my island.
The rock is my throne,
where I sat and watched
as the world turned to dust.
A thousand years of progress
swirls around me like
a cloak around my shoulders.
It caresses my cheek and settles in
my eyes and hair like a crown
as the wind bellows at its loss.
Tides rise and wash the ages onto
sallow shores, leaving broken shell
memories behind in their wake.
I am the only one to keep them close.
The island grows as I grow.
Loved and feared by nothing.
A ruler of ashes, I command ghosts.

~
© 2013 Erin Campbell

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AS THE WORLD TURNS
by Lyra McCarty

As the world turns I seek you.
I listen — and you are here?
Not a caress passes between us.
But I know that you are near.

Always a crowd surrounds us
In a whirlpool of noisy things.
Some are always pushing
They think I have no King.

I live in the twilight hours
Lost between night and day.
I know you Dear Lord Jesus
And understand your way.

As the world turns I seek you.
I listen — and you are here?
Not a caress passes between us.
But I know you hold me dear.

~
© 2013 Lyra McCarty

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AS THE WORLD TURNED
by Sandra Conner

As the world turned and turned and turned,
So his heart yearned, and churned, and burned.
Day unto day and night unto night
He pondered on ways to satisfy spite.

If he could not have her – his love, his life,
He’d see to it no one else made her his wife.
He thought out his strategy, planned every move,
And finally knew how to deal with his love.

So swiftly he made his way into her room
And there, as she slept, introduced her to doom.
Then, satisfied that a lesson she’d learned,
He joined her in silent death as the world turned.

~
© 2013 Sandra Conner

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