LOVE’S HURT

Oh why does loving hurt so much?
And bite so hard with such smooth teeth?
And clutch so tightly at my heart
As though to stifle every beat?

Just one dark look, one heavy word,
Is like the lash of some foul whip,
And lacerates my tender frame,
And brings a quiver to my lip.

In vain I try to stem the ache –
Othello’s antique pain.
The handkerchief is suspect still
My anguish will remain.

[ First published on rolandsragbag.wordpress.com blog on 5^th October, 2016 ]

My MoJo

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My MoJo

Please let me have my mojo back,
My passion has abated;
Now faded into lustless life,
All rapture now vacated.

This fractious war’s collateral damage
Has snagged me in its thorns,
And leaving me dispirited,
Has taken other forms.

For all the hurt I now repress
The damage leaves its mark.
What will it take to bring it back
That vital vibrant spark?

 

On Waking Up

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Waking, this morning I said,
I don’t think I’ll get out of bed.
There was no concealing
I had hurt her feelings,
I’d spend the day sleeping instead.

Waking in fear and dread,
I regretted those words I had said
I’d not meant to hurt,
Just meant to assert,
I cried crocodile tears when I bled.

Waking and wond’ring what’s next,
I decided to send her a text,
To tell her I’d lied,
Our love had not died –
Just sulking because I was vexed.

 

Love Lost

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Soft words
Kindly spoken
Ended our affair
Harsh words
Roughly spoken
Captured my despair

How could I
All this time passed
Not bring myself to care?
Be expected silently,
The hurt, the pain, to bear?

Was it not her
Who from the start
Had always said she cared,
Whilst I, blasé, had many times
Devalued what we shared?

But now we’ve parted,
Untied the knot,
And gone our separate ways,
I feel the hurt
Each passing day
Left only with this vile malaise.

 

Love Justified

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Love Justified

As winds are made to blow
And waves are made to break,
As the sun was made to shine
And the earth was made to quake.

So you and I were made to meet,
Our lives and love to share;
To nurture children, watch them grow,
Their trials and troubles to bear.

And now when time has wrought its hurt
And you have left my side,
Our blessings now live on in them,
Loves purpose justified.

 

 

Hand over the Chocolate

Photo:  WHB – Somerset, 2019

Hand over the chocolate – and nobody gets hurt!

Ah, the thrill of choc’late,
Tempting, teasing treasure.
Try me, taste me, test me,
Tell me your mine for ever.

Lick me, suck me, drink me,
Smear me with your richness;
Cover me in your flavour,
Bathe me in your sweetness.

I need you, oh, I need you,
As Adam needed Eve;
I’d sell my soul for choc’late
In the land of make-believe.

 

The Guardian of Hell

In Norway for a holiday
I chose to take a train.
I found a railway manager
Standing in the rain.

I asked him how I’d get a train
From here to Tromso town.
He looked at me askantly,
Then put his flag and whistle down.

Pausing a while, he sighed a sigh,
“Just go to Hell ” he muttered.
I thought how rude, how quite uncouth,
Such harsh words to have uttered.

I didn’t like his acid tone
I felt so hurt, and, sadly,
Wondered what I’d done to him
That made him treat me badly.

But then he started telling me
About a town called ‘Hell’,
Sitting on the Tromso line
A place where many dwell.

How the long-suffering railway chief
Had laboured to dispel
The reputation he’d acquired –
‘the Stationmaster from Hell.’

So at last I understood
I repented feeling badly.
Now I’d love to go to Hell,
Pay respects quite gladly.

Then standing by the station sign
I’d take a snap as well,
To show how I admired him,
This Guardian of Hell.

How Can It Be?

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Sad the moment
Instant grief
No containment
No relief

How can it be
That such a stricture
Such hurt
Such pain
Can come to blight
A life again
When all else seems
So sweet
So rich

One thought sustains
And moves us on
Relentless time
Regarding none
Ensures at last
The past is gone
While healing hope remains

 

Two Word Tales: #1

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Two words

‘Get lost’

They hurt

I cried

 

My ‘Two Word’ Verses

Throughout this week, I shall publish each day one of a series of short verses which, together, by the end of the week, will have told a story. 

 

In Resignation – A QUATERN

My attempt at  … A QUATERN

Definition … 

A Quatern is a sixteen line French form composed of four quatrains. It is similar to the Kyrielle and the Retourne. It has a refrain that is in a different place in each quatrain. The first line of stanza one is the second line of stanza two, third line of stanza three, and fourth line of stanza four. A quatern has eight syllables per line. It does not have to be iambic or follow a set rhyme scheme. 

”Ocean Waves’ … Pen & Wash – WHB . May 2017

‘In Resignation’

I wish the tide to swallow me whole
As though a thief had from me stole
My life, but then in guilt forgone
His gains, paused, and then moved on.

I’ve had enough of body and soul
I wish the tide to swallow me whole
For now I see, I realise,
Life is too short to compromise.

Decisions hurt but must be made,
And so, before my debts are paid
I wish the tide to swallow me whole;
I’m ready now, I’ve  lost  control.

No longer can I bear the pain,
Resigned to never feel again,
Towards the waves I edge my stroll
I wish the tide to swallow me whole.

‘The Seashore’ … Pen &  Wash – Photoshopped  with edge effect … WHB – April 2017