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TRIANGLES & COLLOQUIALS
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LYNN I.
I do not understand the carpenter’s triangle:
The juxtaposition of opposite angles equaling…
COST
QUALITY TIME
How one will always achieve
Cornering the market on two angles,
But never all three.
II.
I search my soul…
Through colloquialisms and idioms:
“It’s better to have loved and lost,
than never to have loved.”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
“Necessity is the mother of invention.”
All reveal just as much truth as lie.
III.
I have loved and lost,
The heartache was not worth it.
I do not feel that I would have chose the pain,
just for that one moment of bliss…
People seem never to part on positive terms…
Just so they can kill the pain that stems from loss.
THEY DID THIS TO US. THEY DID THIS TO ME.
I have ventured and suffered greatly…
From risking…sharing not only my heart,
But my home,
My sentimental possessions,
That seem to be more memorable to my
Lovers than to me.
My collections of novelties,
Scattered like the dust of a dead...
RELATIVE.
I have…
GIVEN my time,
GIVEN the best of myself,
GIVEN in sacrifice until my soul has bled.
AND FOR WHAT!
IV.
If “necessity” is the mother of all “invention”…
Isn’t the necessity for quality people for relationships…
Like I do not know this?
Why is my life racked in so much pain?
I thought I was RISING…
From one lover who ignored my feelings,
Who sat like stone to the baring of my soul.
Motionless to the turmoil within my heart.
To the next lover…
Who gave me so much attention…
I could barely survive the beatings.
Who stole from me…
Who lied to me outright…but I already knew it.
To one who could not harm me…
I callused my heart and did not love her…
She entertained me…
Yet when she could not par with my intellect,
So she told her family that I raped her...
On our first date!
To my last lover…
Who was my intellectual equal,
Who offered me extended family,
Who offered me her children,
Who took my last name.
Who stole my heart,
But it wasn’t revealed to me...
Until things were long past “good riddance”,
That her educational degrees...
Sat like best sellers on the fiction charts.
That her child of elementary age,
Existed only in the shadows of her mind.
That her unborn child was just a sonogram picture
STOLEN from Web MD.
EVERYTHING WAS A LIE…to the point…I DON’T KNOW WHO SHE WAS.
AND I LOST MYSELF…TRYING TO HELP HER…COPE!
With the death of her child,
The possible death of her child’s father,
With her possibly having LUPUS,
With her surviving a “Rape”
How much can one take in nine months?
V.
This triangle has caved in.
The colloquialisms are idioms for hopeless romantics…
Stuck in a time and place that doesn’t exist anymore.
And the only thing that comes from “necessity” is writing…
So one doesn’t go crazy…
FROM EMOTIONAL RAPE…
The only “good” thing purged for pain…
Is some “kick-ass” poetry.
I hope you’ve enjoyed my pain.
There are no words to express:
MY EMPTINESS…
Like a bank vault after a gang robbery.
MY LONLINESS…
Like an overheated car in the middle of the dessert.
MY PAIN…
Like seared flesh from the flash of lighting the pilot light
On a furnace.
MY HEART…
Like a submarine, crushed like a soda can on the ocean floor.
My mind…
Feels the weave of maggots and weevils…
Consuming brain tissue, tunneling…
Sliding my once tangible life into insanity…
Where the once…
”She’s not worth it, means nothing compared to the pain.”
And then, people ask me---
Why do you want to kill yourself?
My only reply…
“I know for you, pain is once, and you move on.
But for me it is a devastating earthquake,
That destroys my life in the present,
Rocks my foundations askew,
Topples my self esteem,
And I lay in the ruins,
Where I come face to face with the debris,
Of every failure in my life.
Building on ruins,
Isn’t safe…
Building on fault lines,
Is ridiculous…
Yet if this is where I’m bound to live,
In this body, like the island of Japan,
Unable to escape the biology of my own nature,
Why would you expect any different of an attitude?
Wouldn’t anything be better than this?"
