Lost & Found

                So I’m going through my flash drive and I stumble upon a folder that reads “Wedding Plans”… the funniest thing is that I forget it existed, and I hadn’t opened it since April 2010, almost two years ago… I should have deleted it on site but I didn’t I opened the folder and every document it contained… *deepbreathe* Let’s say it put a small damper on my high spirits or maybe I’m just trying to remember to forget what was. It’s sad that one person can change everything you ever thought about things, and what I am now is not exactly who I used to be… Now I am cautious, callous, and calculating… and to make matters worse I have no interest in sharing myself, at least not the way I used too.



See this is the thing…


*deepbreathe*             I wanted to have his babies           2, 3, or 4 of them


*deepbreathe*             I wanted to bend his realities        cast away the past


*deepbreathe*                   ……………………………                 but I’m no God



               If the truth has to be told… I knew better, but my morals and principles rests in truth, possibilities, justice, righteousness, and second chances… If God lends us second chances shouldn’t man???? I loved him completely regardless of everything, the crimes sentenced, the sins committed, the lies, the nights out, the silent moments that grew cold…


                And still …. I wanted to have his babies, wanted to get married, wanted to give life to the dreams we each had and the ones we dreamed up together…I wanted us to be everything beyond what normal people think love is…because to us love was an active experience something you lived, breathed and touched daily…I wanted all the things I never wanted before, and with him those wants materialized into a needs…


                So finding the wedding I once started to plan makes me remember how deep and willing I used to be… Seeing all that loved displayed on my PC’s screen reminded me that one day, I’d like to experience it again even though, parts of me know it will never happen!!!!

master piece

                                                            
this time i wanted him to paint me in lyric,
a quiet melody with screaming bass lines, haunted by a murmuring treble clef…

this time i needed him to beat my womb in tandem with his heart
and let sweat beads gather in unison,

as
his breath sweeps across my neck traveling,
to where tongue meets collar bone, and
sweet lullabies are sung,
pacing to that place where his heart captures my soul
and ravages my spirit…


slowly,

intentionally,

burning secret desires into my womb
until I whisper his name,
beg him to repeat his rhythm,


on countertops…
backs against mirrors…
hips on stove…


slowly…intentionally…

tongues exchange language,
bodies translate,
and limbs write our verses into pillows,
while we drum our melody into the bed posts…
we call it sheet music


brow to nose,
lips to cheek,
sweat beads on chin,
pelvis thrust,
bodies creep into a bending passion,
making puddles of nectar,



While the Sheet Music Plays


©brokenSILENCE


                                    

lights, camera, action...

Every year I promise to write more on this thing.... And every year I don't... So I'm not promising or saying.. I'm just going to start doing... My newest creation.... Let me know what you guys think...

Poetry blended with passion, long walks to the theatre cuddled mid row, watching… waiting, lights dim, and the lovers pull each other close, close enough to kiss just before the opening act….

Lights, camera, action…

Lonely moments comforted by thoughts of the conversations that draws circles,

Cold nights, warmed by memories of flowers, cards and surprise visits…

The aftermath of the smells, tastes laced by touch…

Climbing to the peak,

Falling into a waterless ocean, but somehow soaked by its essence…

lights, Camera, action…

I wanna allow myself to,

Place fingers on dial pad,

Phone to ear,

And hold my breathe until I hear the sound of his voice…

The thickness mixed with concern

“Hello”

The easiness

“I miss you”

Knowingly

“I wish we could just be”

Lights enhance the picture while capturing the action of the love we had… each day I wish I had prayed for a something to shake loose the memories, and undo the done… a prayer to melt the chains that link your existence in my heart…

…Lights…

but if we talk about the truth,

…Camera…

I nurture every memory, protecting it from everything that was wrong,

…Action…

because I simply don’t want to dirty the you in me!

Lights, camera, Action…

I love you

Lights camera, action…

Forever…

(c) brokensilence



tuned in....

                 For a long time I’ve been contemplating on what to write, what to say, and how much of it to say… I could never decide, so I decided that it’d be best not to say anything, maybe wearing the weight of life on my hips is enough, maybe being silent is the remedy but, I have found no refuge in the fogginess of silence… and since my thoughts are no longer peaceful, I began to write again, not on paper but on the walls of my thoughts…for the most part I am satisfied in the sanctuary I have conceived but I often wonder what will happen when I fill the walls of my thoughts, and bend my brain into pages… will I pen memories or dreams? Will some intellectual dam break and bleed out?


I still question what to say and when to say it…

Stay Tuned…..

valentine hope

every once in a while i get the notion to share , i really don’t like to share my writing… mostly i keep it to myself, partly because i’m more of what i write than what people see. if that makes any sense at all… so i share with strangers here…leaving the most intimate parts of myself on here and refusing to think twice about what i’ve said or what they’ll take it to mean…i continue to be selective about who i invite into this area of my life… i choose people who have war wounds, scars that life kicked salt into, fresh bruises from old lovers, scabs that haven’t completely healed, and blisters that need stitches instead of ointment…they understand that everything is not what it seems, and appreciate the truth instead of beautiful lies…



once in a while i get the notion to share like on valentine’s day when i wrote him a poem, hoping it would explain the things my mouth wouldn’t say…knowing that maybe he’ll understand and maybe he won’t…but trying nonetheless to reach pass all the concrete, and break away the granite, so i could sit next too his shuddering heart, just to keep it company…build a campfire and listen to it beat, be its company and maybe hear it say “thank you, i was cold and lonely”… i wrote what words couldn’t say, and asked him to name its spirit… i signed my name and wrote:




i’ve wanted to hold you for a long time now...

wanted to wrap my mind around yours and warm your heart with my hands,

wanted to hold you in places you won’t go,

places you’re afraid to acknowledge,

places you haven’t discovered…



i’ve wanted to hold you in moonlight according to candlelight psalms,

watch the heavens heal the earth and call it a horizon…



i've wanted to measure your pain with pleasure,

match your distance with comfort

wanted to be your fever so you’d sweat passion…



i’ve wanted to hold you for a long time now,

so let me…




he understood,
and said,
"b, you make me want to write you poetry"...

salvaged

he didn’t always understand my poetry…. he didn’t always understand that sometimes, i talk in riddles… but he understood that i love the way sunshine feels on my skin, he understood that i liked to share…

i tried to love him

tried to tie it around his neck,

stuff it deep in his pockets,

and told myself that,

he’d carry it around with him…

promised myself that it’d be enough

but…. it didn’t work…

plan aborted… access denied…mission unsuccessful…

it didn’t work….

but i wanted it too, i needed it too…

he didn’t always understand me but somehow i fascinated him, and somehow i intrigued him into loving me because my affection was innocent… i loved without conditions or return…i loved the man he was, and the man he wanted to be…i loved him when he had nothing to give and everything to gain….for these reasons he loved me but…

couldn’t sustain, couldn’t fight,

didn’t know what was at stake,

with temptation invading,

there was no fail-safe, no life jacket…

so we sank, drifted, and sank some more…

somehow i managed to find the find the surface, managed to collect some of the debris, and cast away the forsaken memories…comforting myself with possibilities of resuscitating what died in his arms,

drifting…

floating…

into oblivion.

M-16

if i could be a weapon
i’d be an m-16
stuttering with resisting,
a roaring of explosion,
leaking my insides on wet pavement
and pouring salt into my own wounds.

but i’m not that m-16 and some how i’ve managed to misplace myself
managed to lose myself in esteem,
managed to walk over myself…
managed to set my mangled limbs on fire and rock myself to sleep on gasoline beds of silence that bleed hope.

if only i could be that m-16

hitting moving targets,
smoking the slight movements pouncing in and out of eye-sight….
freeing “little refugee me” with cocked barrels
rescuing “tied down, undressed me” with gnawing triggers,
spilling secrets, in soiled grass crying to be bathed.


but i’m not an m-16
instead…
i am the swaying silence in trees
the song that can’t be shaken from the willow’s weeping branches…
the lullaby mothers won’t sing to their young,
the sad ballad lovers won’t play because it hurts
to hear the pain decoded by the piano’s keystrokes.

i wish i was an m-16 stuttering with resistance
but instead i’m a silent song, quietly screaming in pain.

© brokenS I L E N C E
3.26.10