Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Ghostly love/like

This was all I ever wanted
In a reflection, ambuscading, through a key hole my deep blue eyes
roving, before the drapery conceals me, I
touch her creamy back, wonder the imperfection
inviting me.
Out of the disproportionate window,
watching over her, I anticipate this time, all I ever need.
Painting her as I fancy the thick curls brushing
my face, the flickering eyelids teasing me,
I run to reach to her
but she shuts the window.

Admiring the satin skin in faint stars, till the
gentle breeze flows me in through the gaps, minute gaps.
I listen to her plastic talking, all night long
to a many people, I think I never knew,
She perceives my presence
around her ear,  when I whisper, around the age old lamp
when I blow the candle, around the chime
when I present my heart,
but
she ignores,
she overlooks her hand held against mine.

This brings me down from the ceiling down her bed,
I hear her, loving someone,
but I don’t know how to cry.
Waiting eternally to go back to where I belong,
Out her window, out her scent
till with morning light, she sends me free
only to lie and think of her, waiting eternally to go back
for a dawn to rise all over again.
Eyeing her all over day, searching for the words
I ll have to say,
till at night, I see her loving someone.

6 comments:

Susie Swanson said...

This is awesome, but then you are an awesome writer. I never get tired of reading your posts., Blessings, Susie

hedgewitch said...

From title, to the last line I wanted to hold back--so this poem could continue mesmerizing me--every bit of this was excellent.Words could only diminish it, but I wanted to let you know I read and enjoyed.

Fireblossom said...

Oh, this makes me ache. It's gorgeous, it's familiar in its details, and it's heartbreaking.

Jack Edwards Poetry said...

Breathtaking poem

Andreas said...

I've had some difficulty commenting her recently. I don't want you to think that's because I'm indifferent to your poetry, because I'm not. I'm always challenged, often moved, when I come here. Oh, stick to your vision, Monika. I believe your soul cries out to you through the words you write.

"Admiring the satin skin in faint stars, till the
gentle breeze flows me in through the gaps, minute gaps."
I'll be whispering these words tonight, holding them like a light to the darkness; like Diogenes asking for one true man.

Monika said...

Thanks Andreas, I completely understand and believe me it's pleasure for me to have you visit me, and all the more have you admire my work with all your heart.
I love the trueness of your soul, honestly pictured in your poetry.
Thank you so much!