On Waiting

Waiting for love's recognition

i’ve spent years and a day waiting on you to recognise me

i accompany you on hands and knees looking for

inspiration and knowledge beneath

         coffee tables

i sit with you as the mental scabs c r a c k and the past

comes bleeding forth,

wiping away the blood and the tears and the shame

a smile dawns on your face and illumines the Nightly room

empty and bare save

for two almost-wholes contemplating eternity and love and friendship and sex

by the light of a cold fire, you smile and

the flash of brilliance hurts, but so good,

an abuse that keeps victim crawling back for more,

always more.

i’ve waited...

waiting for the recognition of love to shine in eyes

that see more than most

   yet not enough

waiting for a mouth that says my name with drapes of endearment

garmented in delicate

gossamer a n d

kinky leather a n d

safe wool

waiting for an invitation to heart and bedroom

to explore the bounds of love in caverns of sex-spirituality

or libraries of numbers and theories and cold equations

impotent in all things human

waiting to feel the shrill electricity of skin on skin

i’ve waited years and a day

to hear the one i’ve waited on say

“through cloud and rain,

there must always sunshine come again

sunshine, sun that shines and sun that warms,

into this life of night, I welcome now an intricate dawn”

and then for him to jump down from the soap box conference chair mountain of admirers

into the cave of my heart lined with promises and hope

and there to dwell

in comfort and consent

contemplating eternity and love and friendship and sex

Reviews

[JayG]

• I’ve spent years and a day waiting on you to recognise me

I think a good deal of the story necessary to give context to the words still resides in your head. When you say, "wiping away the blood and the tears and the shame," what can it mean to me, who has no clue of to what you refer? I sure don't feel any shame and you don't identify this unknown person's shame...or reason for tears...or blood.

When you read it, context for the words exists, so the words point to images, memories, and ideas that live in your mind. But intent doesn't make it past the keyboard. So for a reader, all too often, the words point to images, memories, and ideas that live in YOUR mind. And since you're not there to explain...

Focus on involving, not just informing the reader.

[Franky]

Your lovely expressions from your heart made my mouth water. The subject though is a sad one indeed.