My weary head floats down to the plum fluffy pillow on the bed. A quick glance to the right reveals an empty space where my true love would roll over into my arms. My eyes soaked with sadness grow heavy as sleep dims my vision. Hoping to or perhaps not to wake up to see the new morning sun I wrestle with sleep only to go down to defeat. Bring on the dreams of despair.
A World Without Love – Peter & Gordon
Do you remember the times we rode horseback along that twisted highway that led nowhere? All Sunday nights we spent walking along the edge of the ocean as the water came up and licked our feet meticulously making sure no toe was left untouched. The seaweed entangled itself around our ankles creating a hugging like sensation. Quickly we would outrun the onrushing waves onto the cool white sand to add another layer of tingling sensations. Some time ago I remember when we surfed on a rainbow riding bareback on the yellow haze of the sun. The windmill whirled around us and we around it. All at once a crater buried deep beneath the earth broke open pulling what was left of our love deep within its bosom. Nothing that was never anything can ever be changed or created. And so it was with us.
Just in time for nothing as only nothing knows nothing better and how to put it back together. ‘Twas in another lifetime that love was all that we would ever need. In sorrow, death, and woe another lifetime ago would be the life we are living today while the shadow of a new tomorrow peeks around the corner. What is the verifiable truth that today’s end needs us to know?
The sailors sailed upon the sea with their sails saluting the breeze. The army battalion crawls through the muck and the mud until they arrive at their tragedy. Warplanes hellbent on destruction take flight against the backdrop of luminous air. Answer me my love that you will. Signify with your hand your acceptance of what is unceremonious in nature. A bullet blazes a trail to extract life from the living. Who gave it that right?
‘Twas in another lifetime the children lacked not for nurturing. We gave of them what was there to give for them. Cries of hunger were not left ignored or unattended to. The relentless pounding of the doors by the wolves with saliva drooling from their mouths in anticipation of ripping them away to be sent somewhere that nobody wondered why. They were all that we had. They were all that we dreamed of. They were all that we would ever need. Now they are gone having gone away. Weep for them while you pray for them. Bring them back you manglers of domestic tranquility!
For what is the worth of what you do not have that nobody will see that the deficiency of such is nullifying the necessity of these lives? Do we dare deny dignity to those who have been designated as unworthy by those whose noses leak green or yellow slimy mucus born of their self-righteous indignation against the so-called sub-human pitiful pathetic patronizers of poverty as if they really had a choice?
The cat smacks its lips after lapping up the snow white milk from its bowl. It begins to emit the sound of contentment known as purring. Soon it will climb into its puffy soft bed blink its loving eyes before curling up like the furball that it is and falls asleep. It lives in the here and now in a reality that only it knows for it only knows a zest for life. For the giving it of its needs, it gives love unrequited. With a coat of silk and shine it has its home in your home and inside fo you. Until G-d calls it by its name forever it shall be among you.
Take my bleeding broken heart with you when you go leaving no trail behind. Such is love forsaken if not forgotten. It was then but not now nor in the hereafter shall it reign again. Love without love is no love at all. Love conquers all until the carnivores of cruelty lock it all away. Before love there was love. Love in the 21st century will break free of the chains that bind it so lovers will lower their lips unto the other in a celebration of the victory for all that which is good. Woebegone is the day when leaders try to lay love to waste.
‘Twas in another lifetime I sacrificed my soul in return for the grace. Scorn was my pay but never shall it be repaid. I was led to learn so that I might know the treasured secrets buried deep down below so very long ago. Men of the knowing yearned for my yearnings to learn. To seek to know the desire to be with one. Let not the pure glistening sands of time slide through my fingers entrapping me, ensnaring me into the jaundiced jungles of the future in absentia of my mindfulness. I have no need for ya. There is no need for ya.
It was yet in another lifetime ago I thought I had all. Fair maidens at my feet sincere in their desire for me. An armored iron suit formed by flame with weapons at the ready was I fitted with. My steeds were sleek slender and strong. The stagecoach in which I traveled hither and yon was adorned with adulation. If you crossed the bridge over snakes and the alligators who wanted for your flesh at my castle door you did arrive. A goblet of wine was put in your tortured trembling hands for you to introduce into your palate. My most regal mare you will mount as you set forth onward into the future.
The exodus of man has begun. Banished from your lands in retribution for your misdeeds. Redact your frivolities. You are reaping the pain you callously doled out for others to feel. Etched out was the intrinsic value of caring for another being. There is a place many a man will go. Nary a woman shall be in tow. Her stealth movements defied your futile failed attempts to dehumanize her. In the end, as it were before when it was she who would stand alone to be enshrined as a true teller of truth. Should she deem the being inside her to be repugnant to her she will die alongside what she killed.
Heart Like A Wheel – Linda Ronstadt
In my most solemn moments of solitude, I wonder what would have been of what once was had it not been for now. If I was then who am I to be now? Twas that lifetime a forever forgone conclusion for a precursor to the pretentiousness of the present? Whilst I stutter and stammer out my vocal lamentations who will echo the undertones of my warnings you are not likely to heed?
“They would not listen, they did not know how. Perhaps they’ll listen now.” – Starry Starry Night-Don McClean. ‘Twas In Another Lifetime Ago.
Fare Thee Well! What I said was what I had intended to say but perhaps could not. For now, my words may lay quietly stoic in their newfound state of silence.
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