Forbidden

Your Love
was not for kisses
except for those near misses
that left it lost in time

Such hopes
were not for holding
in no way emboldening
my heart to make you mine

Your voice
was not for ever
despite its best endeavor
to echo in my dreams

The truth
cannot be spoken
forbidden not forgotten
if all is as it seems

I wish upon a star

And write of love unknown
much as ghosts are

 

When I find a windflower, I find my heart can love no other

 

I have been putting most of my poetic thoughts into my prose these days. So, just a simple one, nothing like the beautiful intricate poetry that my very talented friends are writing. This one just came and, for what it’s worth, I share.

 

donatellasmallest©Artwork and writing, unless otherwise indicated, are the property of Diane M Denton. Please request permission to reproduce or post elsewhere with a link back tobardessdmdenton. Thank you.

Repost: Wrestling with Love

Originally posted November 2011 (Just haven’t had time to come up with anything new … but hope you enjoy whether you have seen this one before or not.)

Wrestling with Love
The rug was a rink
in front of the fire,
its design hooked
in roses
and thorns;
e
ach to a corner
fringed on desire,
hearts ready to fight
in poses
and throws.
The match was a show
of how they did play,
rolling and rolling
then pausing
to part;
b
ack to their places
for
rules to obey,
one not the other
fostering
the pact.
A blow from behind
turns trust on its head,
perverting the game
to cheating
for fun;
forgiveness is hard
her faith all but dead,
hope losing hope of
defeating
its fate.
Time is the stealer
of heartaches to face,
prospects laid to dust
in roses
and thorns;
more and less fondness
alive in each case,
the show going on
that closes
this thought.
 

Copyright 2011 by DM Denton

Writing note: This poem was inspired by two cats I brought from England in 1990. They were a year apart and cousins. They are, of course, long gone…but, equally of course, not forgotten. The younger gray one, Sophie, was very carefree as a kitten but grew into a self-centered even schizophrenic creature (she never forgave me for putting her on a plane). On the other hand, Heidi, the black and white one, was the loveliest most balanced spirit I’ve ever known, a soulmate for sure, my best friend and protector through difficult times (no doubt the trip from England to the US was traumatic for her too, but when she looked around her new home and saw my mom and me that was all she needed–home was truly where her heart was!). 

©Artwork and writing, unless otherwise indicated, are the property of Diane M Denton. Please request permission to reproduce or post elsewhere with a link back to bardessdmdenton. Thank you.

Past Life

The snow is freshly fallen, connecting this place to every other, blending past and present, enfolding me in the company of one who has come and gone. The colorless shapes through my window are as haunting as my heartache.
Copyright by Diane's Mom 2013

Copyright by Diane’s Mom 2013

I cannot offer an explanation to anyone but the moon. Remember when I wrote:
I told the moon tonight—
the moon so full and bright—
what I wanted to tell you.
It was as though I had,
for you are like the moon,
as constant and changing,
as out of reach.
Others mourn you better. They were a part of your everyday and everywhere. They created memories for sharing without suspicion. I was but a reminder of what had passed, like a whisper, between us.
How could I lose the one I never had?
Romantic love has never made a home with me, has never stayed long enough to unpack its plans and rest assured. It becomes a habit, one life to another, this living with what is undeclared, like a smuggler of illegal hopes.
Now you are gone from this world. The lives you touched are left unresolved and may’ve already begun to move on. I have nowhere to go if you are not with me, even if I have to backtrack a little. Surely, memories haven’t any consequence: a meeting that wasn’t the first; a beautiful wife for you and sister for me; a voice that caressed even as it called me ‘contentious’; a kiss that just missed my mouth for my cheek; a chair that still rocked after sailing the seas for you; a cat that let you spin it into embarrassment; a bump to my head you seemed genuinely concerned about; a song no one knew was just for me.
You stole my heart
hundreds of years ago;
only now can I gladly let you have it;
only now
in the space time makes
before
and after
can I know what I was missing.
I turned from you. I know that is why we never were.  If I had been braver we might’ve spoiled everything.  I was afraid that the noose of loving you might strangle me again, unless I wrote a different version of the story.
Although I still talk to the sky as if that is where you are.
No one can take the moon
from me;
the dark sky can conceal its varying
brightness and
watchfulness
and mockery,
but cannot convince me
it is gone.

img002©Artwork and writing, unless otherwise indicated, are the property of Diane M Denton. Please request permission to reproduce or post elsewhere with a link back to bardessdmdenton. Thank you.

Poem: Wrestling with Love

The rug was a rink
in front of the fire,
its design hooked
in roses
and thorns;
e
ach to a corner
fringed on desire,
hearts ready to fight
in poses
and throws.
The match was a show
of how they did play,
rolling and rolling
then pausing
to part;
b
ack to their places
for
rules to obey,
one not the other
fostering
the pact.
A blow from behind
turns trust on its head,
perverting the game
to cheating
for fun;
forgiveness is hard
her faith all but dead,
hope losing hope of
defeating
its fate.
Time is the stealer
of heartaches to face,
prospects laid to dust
in roses
and thorns;
more and less fondness
alive in each case,
the show going on
that closes
this thought.
 

Writing note: This poem was inspired by two cats I brought from England in 1990. They were a year apart and cousins. They are, of course, long gone…but, equally of course, not forgotten. The younger gray one, Sophie, was very carefree as a kitten but grew into a self-centered even schizophrenic creature (she never forgave me for putting her on a plane). On the other hand, Heidi, the black and white one, was the loveliest most balanced spirit I’ve ever known, a soulmate for sure, my best friend and protector through difficult times (no doubt the trip from England to the US was traumatic for her too, but when she looked around her new home and saw my mom and me that was all she needed–home was truly where her heart was!). 

©Artwork and writing, unless otherwise indicated, are the property of Diane M Denton. Please request permission to reproduce or post elsewhere with a link back to bardessdmdenton. Thank you.