Two Lines More

In Tampering with love
I transformed my heart
Into a pink bundle of feeling flesh...instead of a warm welcome to a fellow soul I am  butcher sacrificing myself.

Not anymore a lover
annointing her twin flame.
But a gamer outwitted
trying hard to win the game.

I had sell my soul for two kind lines from you...
But the going rate is a throwaway, so please don't feel flattered.
  
There was a time there was a place
When love meant annointing with passion's grace
Now business conducted at  marketplace
loving become an unholy race.

Laugh at me a little, or laugh a lot
Scorn me mock me the fool you sought
Forget my value in your thoughts
Hand me anything but your hate
For that I cannot tolerate....
Erase my memory, despise me not.

 
My love is a double edged sword
It cuts and dissects that which it tries to hold.

I love you
No doubt it must be true
Because...
I'm beginning to frighten both
Me and You.

The trick is to behave very well
Though the trickling trail of rain
Inside the mind
Tells tales of drowning
And going insane.

The thundering Gods upstairs
scold rebuke and send mighty deluge!
What have I to fear from a flooded world
When drowning in rivers of lonely tears
My last refuge.

I am the rich sustaining mud
And you my lovely lotus
I'm enriched nourishment
And not cast off as detritus
I'm your solid bed of love
You my lover in coitus.

To grasp at our straws of faith and doubt
Is to dare truth from its hidden closet out
Surety is a state of mind
For you must seek if you need to find

To dive in to the deep ends of fear
To cut off the ends of telomeres
Age is a fraction of impulse
A lifetime in the beat of a pulse

To leap and tumble to somersault
To carp at nothing but embrace the faults
The flaws you perceive in existence
Translate to feats of valor in future tense

Poets are such lying two faced tiresome Januses!
Then again,
being Ubiquitous is the tiresome business of applying mosaic vision.

Wish desires to be fair.
Inclination wishes to be partial.

Perhaps the condensed spirit of all the poems we write in our lives may be poetry. Perhaps the one perfect poem our masterpiece makes a poet out of the most mundane um...poem writer.
And perhaps the perfection that eludes us all our lives lives on as the wistful poetry in all our failed efforts.
And the nature of poetry will fling off all our attempts to define and contain ...and a collection of musical words will become a lovely lyric for a lonesome soul.
For me a poem is itself the spirit of a living soul touching inner beauty. So I respect them all.

Who is a beggar?
One asking for alms?
What if I have earned it?
The right to expect your humanity?
What if you give not because I need, but because you need to.
Who is the beggar then..
We're all beggars begging daily for love affection understanding compassion opportunity expression.
We're begging our souls to rise and shine and make us proud of our selves.
We're begging to achieve.
We beg your understanding
Dear God and fellowmen
Beggar is not a dirty word.
It is how we treat them and our own neediness that beggars us.
Of Compassion. Of esteem.
And truly makes a beggar of us.
One who hasn't a heart large enough to admit he needs help.
If you can never ask courageously for help shrugging off humiliation how will you learn to help yourself my friend?

Today's beggar is tomorrow's almsgiver.
The Universe throbs pulsates and winks ...Pay  it forward.
And be courteous. A human being just asked you to hold his hand and help him up, just for a while. ...

Version 2: Beggar

Some Thoughts on Begging....

(Inspired by many dear friends.)

Who is a beggar?
One asking for alms?
What if I have earned it?
The right to expect your humanity?
What if you give not because I need, but because you need to.

Who is the beggar then?

We're all beggars begging daily for love, affection, understanding compassion, opportunity and self expression.

We're begging our souls to rise and shine and make us proud of our selves. We're begging to achieve.

We beg your understanding O
Dear God and fellowmen and friends.

Beggar is not a dirty word.
It is how we treat them in our thoughts and perception and our own neediness that beggars us.

Of Compassion. And of esteem.
That is what truly makes a beggar of us.

One who hasn't a heart large enough to admit he needs help. If you can never courageously ask for help, shrugging off humiliation as false pride, how will you ever learn to help yourself my friend? Or help anyone else for that matter?

Today's beggar is Tomorrow's almsgiver.

The Universe throbs pulsates and blinks and winks ...
Pay  it forward.

And be courteous while doing so.
A human being just asked you to hold his hand and help him up, hedid not climb on your shoulders and settled like Sinbad's burden.

Hold it just for a while.
When you walk away it might be with a smile.

All rights reserved
(c) Amrita Valan 2014

My tears are heavy water
I can't take their weight.

( Posted As a comment.)
R Reed Rosson
Where I come from being a feminist means respecting my rights and desperately trying not to let "Man"kind infringe on them.
And a fair feminist need not be at odds with a true humanist.
:)

All rights reserved
(c) Amrita Valan 2014