Posts tagged "loss" — Page 3

Decoupling

I expose a tender, still-hurting place.

He responds: Maybe that’s the lesson you need to learn before you’re allowed to go on to the next life.

Cold. Careless. Cruel. Calculated?
(an accidental alliteration)

What to do but keep walking.

Sad feet stain the forest road.

A muddy pond sinks me lower. Sympathetic trees attempt a rescue.

Signs wave at me.

TURTLE
XING

NO PARKING
ANY TIME

STOP

EXIT

He punctures the silence with a single word, punctuated by his point: Look. My eyes follow his finger skyward.

A hot pink balloon is, trapped in the paws of a grizzly pine.

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Good Night

I called the rain and it came. Night alone was insufficient.
Come on baby

To witness and permit my dis/quiet. My cheerless lullaby.
La, la, la, la, la

I sigh my side of the story. The dis/respect and dis/honesty. A sincere betrayal. My ridiculous indulgences. On repeat.
Baby take my hand

Loved falsely. Without strength and without fruit.
Baby I’m your man

Evicted moon and runaway stars. I laugh at the poets’ dependence on the subcelestial. Ha! I am the fool with avian heart. Writing per requirement. (By far my weakest drabble!) A dead end bitterness.
Don’t fear the reaper

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Wounded

For when a woman resists an unwelcome passion, she is obeying to the full the law of her sex; the initial gesture of refusal is, so to speak, a primordial instinct in every female, and even if she rejects the most ardent passion she cannot be called inhuman. But how disastrous it is when Fate upsets the balance, when a woman so far overcomes her natural modesty as to disclose her passion to a man, when, without the certainty of its being reciprocated, she offers her love, and he, the wooed, remains cold and on the defensive! An insoluble tangle this, always; for not to return a woman’s love is to shatter her pride, to violate her modesty. The man who rejects a woman’s advances is bound to wound her in her noblest feelings. In vain, then, all the tenderness with which he extricates himself, useless all his polite, evasive phrases, insulting all his offers of mere friendship, once she has revealed to him her weakness! His resistance inevitably becomes cruelty, and in rejecting a woman’s love, he takes a load of guilt upon his conscience, guiltless though he may be. Abominable fetters that can never be cast off!
― Stefan Zweig, Beware of Pity

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Musee des Beaux Arts

About suffering they were never wrong,
The old Masters: how well they understood
Its human position: how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer’s horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.

In Breughel’s Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water, and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.

~W. H. Auden

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