Poem: Seek Your Joy

adult affection bed closeness
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At an unprogrammed Quaker meeting
The spirit moved someone
To remind us to find our Joy.

After, a friend said she would
Find joy in a nice boy toy.
Or maybe it was a toy boy.
She said one is a boy
You’d like as a toy
And the other is something
A boy would like to play with.

We giggled at that,
And I was reminded of a joke
About a party where everyone
Was feeling Joy
Until she got mad and left.

We can no longer joke
About violating Joy,
And I am not bothered,
But then I have a passing reverie,
And I imagine I married Joy.

We became known as
Randy and Joy,
And people made jokes like,
“When Joy feels Randy,
It brings him Joy.”

I sort of regret it never happened
Just for the chuckles we’d have.

R Horton

I’ve Seen You With Other Lovers (#poem)

man and woman kissing near green plants
Photo by Scott Webb on Pexels.com

I’ve seen you enveloped in passion
Entranced and wandering aimlessly
In all consuming lust as you fold
Into taut skin stretched over
A well-tuned bicep shimmering
With the sweat of ones who
Would possess you,
Confiscate your love,
Loyalty, lust, passion, devotion,
Breasts, lips, thighs,
And even your new mountain bike.

I’ve seen you capitulate to complete
Sexual abandon and forget
Your past, your future, and your
Unpaid mortgage. On some
Occasions, you switched from
Lover to lover in your bed
Like a child trying different
Ice creams at the shop with
So many flavours.

I’ve seen you soak the sheets,
Draw blood with your nails,
And shriek till the rafters shook.
You took it all in,
You put it all out.
You forgot who you were.
You looked through me,
Past me, beyond me.

You forgot I existed,
And when you remembered,
You laughed.

You laughed.
Then you shouted.
I had no business blocking
Your way to paradise.
I had no reason to be in your way.

But as you stroke my back,
I open my eyes,
And remember why I came.

Sonnet 35: You’re My All, You Bastard (#poem)

You don’t have to feel so special.
We’ve all done some stuff. Lord,
If you knew half the things I did,
You’d wonder why I’m not in jail.
You can just forget about what
You done, ’cause God knows
I’d let you get away with just
About anything. It’s my weakness.
I can’t blame you for being tempted.
You’re young an horny as a rabbit.
I’m just a rickety old fool, pulled
This way and that by anger and lust.
I mean, I’m the person you done
It to, but I can’t stay mad at you.
Screenshot 2019-04-27 at 07.36.22

Accepting an Infinite Regression of Causes (#poem #NaPoWriMo)

IMG_6604If only life had come into being
On different terms, according to a different template.

If pain weren’t the primary motivating factor
For keeping life propelling itself forward,

If the best of all possible worlds weren’t
A universe where all life is suffering,

If life required no development,
No yearning for higher goals,

If life were complete, as it is,
With nothing but simple satisfaction
To guide it to its inevitable conclusion,

If only the ultimate spirit,
The source of all energy,
Had held back just a little,

Then I wouldn’t be staring into your eyes
Wondering why you still tolerate my gaze.

The Distinct Challenges of Hyperfocus (#poem #NaPoWriMo)

Straddling a life between town and country,

I remember you once stood on a snake.

You never saw it as we were shouting,

Until you moved and it slithered away.

Once you walked into a concrete column,

As I told you to hurry and catch up.

But you were focused and a little solemn,

Just searching for green anoles close up.

So many times you fell into a pond,

And I had to pull you out of the mud.

You were just looking to find what’s beyond.

You were happy to risk bruises and blood.

But I wonder now if you see my life.

As only pixels tell me of your strife.

The Unintended Consequences of Complimentary Behavior (#poem #NaPoWriMo)

He made a clumsy compliment,
And it was taken for an insult.
Immediately, he tried to explainScreenshot 2019-04-03 at 08.02.28
The misunderstanding, but
He was told to “stop digging.”

And so it was.
He wasn’t in love, exactly,
But he admired her
Constantly and consistently.
He spoke highly of her to colleagues
And mutual acquaintances.

Hoping to eventually mend the rift,
He overcompensated with kindness,
But she seemed to recede further
In the distance with each step
He tried to take forward.

And small mistakes can have
Grave consequences. They say
The entire universe is a mess
Because Brahma was too drowsy
During the act of creation,
Which is an important lesson
For fertile but untutored lovers.

And as the universe tends to replicate
An original error exponentially,
So relationships can create
Great webs of resentment
And confusion. Even chaos.

It was all right, of course.
He found other jobs and
Other social and vocational
Networks away from her gaze.
He found a wife, passed his
Own genes on to unsuspecting
New persons peering into
Brahma’s mistake for the first time.

After her divorce, she heard of him
And his relative success and wondered
How such a ham-fisted and socially
Awkward dimwit could carry on.

But we do carry on.
Brahma hasn’t had a nap
In eons, and light travels to our
Eyes from the furthest reaches
Of space, just so we can experiment
With clumsy compliments.

Pretty Messy Things (#poem)

The poetry is pretty perhaps,

And some may appreciate the aesthetics

While being put off by the messinessSlippery Slope

Of the content, preferring a tidy theme.

And maybe you could clean it up

A bit to avoid making the prigs uncomfortable.

Say something about flowers by the seaside,

For example, and let us forget people have sex.

And let’s forget about messy conflict

In relationships, too, while we’re at it.

Some people just want to get on with

A quiet life, not be confronted with

Confounding crises among the lovelorn.

Put a stitch in it, stuff a sock in it,

Do anything but speak of it.

Poetry is supposed to have pleasing

Rhyme and rhythm, after all,

And make us think of waterfalls,

Soaring hawks, and lovers who don’t

Fumble with zippers and buttons.

We prefer romance that is clean

And smooth, lacking rough edges,

Free of trauma and tribulation,

Free of interest and humanity.

We want the love that is printed

On a Hallmark card in February.

We want the love that we’ve dreamt

Of since we were able to dream.

And we were told the poets owe us

At least this much in reparations.

Salutations for Sally (#poem)

A poem for my wife’s birthday.

Salutations for Sally

 The years don’t pass slowly anymore,

But there’s still time for an eternityIMG_0329

In your eyes, in your arms, your love.

Each moment a step to infinity,

But time doesn’t march, it ascends,

And we rise on the years,

Sadder, yes, but wiser and

More loving, more understanding.

And you lift everything around you

To the stars and beyond.

You are both the zenith and quasar.

And as time dissolves to energy,

I will be your light—particle and wave.

Photons on a joint journey—

Born of a supernova—

In eternal abandon,

We will live forever.

 

Close to the Flames (#poem)

I stood outside the gates of Hell,

Ready to dive headlong into flame,hell

But you put your hand on my shoulder,

Turned me toward you and kissed my face.

You held me tightly against you and promised

You’d protect me for all eternity.

You assured me I was one of the good ones,

And I never should have been in this place.

You led me from the depths to a softer light,

And we lay, exposed, face-to-face,

But still I forgot to ask why you were loitering

Just outside such a damnable place.

To Define a Thing (#poem)

He broke her spirit when he declared

He didn’t even know what love is.IMG_7275

She had only asked a simple question

As she planned her own future.

Whilst he resisted closing his options,

He never noticed how open hers were.

She awaited his answer as her suitors

Sat on the sidelines biding their time.

 

He pretended he didn’t understand

The comfort of constant companionship

Or the fear of inestimable loss.

He needed time to think about

This question of love, to contemplate

The reality of solitude or the

Possibility of greater satisfaction.

And his hesitation was her answer.

 

She knew that whatever love is,

She would never feel it for him.

She could see a future free from

Waffling and wavering solidarity.

She imagined a life where love

Never demands a sacrifice.

For her, love was ultimately freedom

Of choice to soldier forth in unity.

 

And she knew love as a litany of lies:

Each person has only one intended.

Love is blind to the beauty of others.

Love is a freshly paved road.

Love is a bind, a prison, a restraint.

Love is devotion, obedience, compliance.

He saw love as a list of restrictions,

But she saw love as a prison break.

 

She no longer thought so much

About love. She only lived

With enthusiasm for those moments

That brought her unalloyed joy.

She decided to be selfish and

Forget about the cares of others.

And her dogged egoism brought her

Continually to your arms.

 

And if she had not, my dear friend,

You could not stand on your own.