“Leaned on elbows in white linen caress…”
“Large frame windows staring out at the sea,
a ballroom restaurant pre-rush and scurry.
Leaned on elbows in white linen caress
her smoky accent winds ’round her dress….”
Stabbed In The Ego
(for that poet)
Am I really not as good, not as inspiring nor mysterious
not even deserving of a couplet, or a quatrain in fixed rhyme?
To be a muse, there must be some fireworks and wine,
to be remembered, pined and worshiped in the dark,
there must be a play to play in, with some memorable lines.
So it wasn’t my smoky voice, my table-clothed restaurant by the sea,
nor was it your nervous passion when you approached our intersection.
My eyes stung in lemon tears, to realize the tidal wave was not for you and I
and no debris of love’s alchemy, nor spuming over- flow contained my name
I collapsed, a big balloon who met her thorn, a hope now pricked to die.
Ahh, The silly luxury of wishing to be someone’s special one,
one who moves a bard to song, a poet to tears, to rhyme or drink
Don’t we all wish to engrave ourselves deeply inside a wandering heart
to be a GPS that tracks their thoughts and poetry back to go,
and then we realize we’re not the starting line? Oh…stabbed in the ego!
Karima Hoisan
LINC Island SL
Sept.19, 2012
* How embarrassing! I thought that little excerpt of a poem in the beginning was written for me…then I found out it wasn’t… (cringes but I can laugh about it now) Well it did move my muse to write a few verses…:) and No, not saying who wrote it…I’m just keeping that part to myself.
Digital Rabbit Hole 
Oh yes…we’ve all been there, too. So many really good fantasies. Fantasties that someone we adore desired us passionately…..couldn’t live without waking up close to us. laying…pulsing…in harmony with our heartbeat. It was nearly perfection! They…the look the gods themslves grew jealous of. The desire beyond nuclear power….
Yes. And, to find, years later after surviving tough years of growth and stern reality…they didn’t even remember us…..we were never even a figment of any imagination. Cruel reality. Cold facts and truth. Bloodless truth. Death by a thousand mortal wounds. Each itself fatal.
Yes, we all know this one. Maybe…maybe…it was just as well we didn’t intersect. Later…through adult eyes and knowing….we finally shed the baby eyes and see with adult’s. We did it all to ourselves. All the desire was made-up. I played all roles in this psychodrama including the loving and beloved. Ouch….bloodflow. The loss…unsurvivable. But, somehow we all survived. and painfully became adults.
Without cottony filters believing in some impossible fantasy. That this one beyond beauty couldn’t actually remember us clearly. Devastating cruel truth. For me it was an Irish lady I met at 9 in school. Fast forward years later…after military duty and much enforced wisdom hard won…I met her again. All the years of agonizing desire. I was not remembered in any way. Psychic blood flowed for months. I hadn’t even registered. I did it all. She was the innocent. I was the vilian. I made this world up in my head. She was totally innocent in this bloodletting. The hurt doubled then doubled again. Many years later I see how truly foolish I was. I am sorry for being really selfish and thinking mabe I was important to her. It was all me doing this to me. She, in reality, was the goddess I saw so many years ago…..sigh…Yes, Karima knows this particular injury. So well laid out like some butterfly in a display case. We will recover, eventually. T
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Hi Tube, thanks once again for your great comment, and examples from your own well remembered and observant history..Yes we sometimes play all the roles in our own mythical productions, our wishful fantasies..but I don’t think we have to apologize for this, just see that we are not the only ones, and to do so, to err in this sometimes embarrassing way, is quite human after all:) I think in the end, with enough time passing, we start to see our ego-centric yearnings, and can smile at them..oh well maybe some day someone will write that poem (or one like it ) for me:)
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Hehehee…. Yes, this probably hits home with 99% of us. Great poem. 🙂
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Thanks for dropping by Spiral. Glad you enjoyed my take on this subject:)
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great poem!
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Marhaba Linda..what a nice surprise:) Thank you for reading it…Come back soon:)
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Brave of you to publish this embarrassment! This is exactly the type of story that most people prefer to cover up 🙂
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I debated and then realized that one of my best survival skills is not taking myself too seriously:) Hope you enjoyed my “public humiliation”:)
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Kari, Kari We are all so prone to project what we consider the most favorable interpretation, and bravos to you for writing about it. His loss, your win. You won the poem about it, which surely transcends the event. Love and blessings, AJN
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awww well his poem is very nice too and we both have laughed about it and I have been at a reading where he dedicated it to me..so now… it has become a little mine too after all 🙂 Thanks for stopping by and leaving your comment Alex….hugss
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