Why We Were
I stand on the corner looking for a ride.
I want to go to an unknown place,
to be anywhere but in this moment
where you intrude, standing defiant in my thoughts
amidst the rubble of shattered expectations
not agreed between, only in me.
I heard what I wanted and not what was said.
He liked me and even cared, bar love, not ever,
I loved, not liked, beyond cared, until he said
we couldn’t be anything beyond the moment
we were in which was more than
nine years but less than a decade.
When I start blaming, nothing goes unscathed.
My mind was broken, my eyes uneven, the words
I wrote-empty, the prose lacked poetry, the love
I gave discarded once spent,
lost in the Egyptian cotton sheets in room 319
or was it me being incomplete he could not love?
I asked for a definition or even reason, why we were.
Goodbyes come too soon and since you, more difficult than hello
I don’t want to leave, can we linger
beyond where we are without the burden of details
I ask of his heart and whisper in the wind
and to the moon at 3 AM
I plead for understanding and finally, adieu.
I stand on the corner waiting for understanding.
{ 31 comments… read them below or add one }
I have had all the emotional upheaval I can handle for one night and so I am SO not going there!
Signed: Drained but Fine.
Oh Elizabeth, I home you are feeling better today. I was only moaning at Karma.
I think we all have. It is tough seeing people who broke your heart, especially when you can't bring yourself to be angry with them. Sometimes I think the best breakups are the ones that end badly because your anger takes over the previous feelings you had for the person. It's being able to still sense those feelings that makes it hard.
I love the idea of love–my dad's fault since he was always reciting poetry when I as a kid–which is why it's in all my writing. I am Latin with a heavy peppering of Apache and Ute, thus the exaggerated fascination. I like that I have these past hurts, besides shaping me, it's a deep well to draw from when I am looking for words and emotions. It did make me smile seeing both of them yesterday.
We all go through break ups… we put the pieces back again only for it to be broken… It's hard and emotionally draining. No matter the amount of heart aches one goes through… we come out stronger and wiser…
Savira – I know! I love that we do because it makes us all the more colorful. So glad you agree and for visiting.
This was was from some place deep.
Hey Val, yes it did, but not in a painful way. I am most happy when I am peeling back the layers. Kind of like some of your words, my dear.
Oh Brenda, I know you're not one to moan, but we all wonder why 'they' happened to us, don't we? I don't envy you for your work location – I'm glad my 'befuddlers' live far away…All except one that is – and that one I delight in seeing now and then only because he now looks old and haggard…Now am I mean, or am I mean?
You cracked me up Corinne. I don't mind. I am amused by the mystery of life. It keeps me young in my heart and head.
Definitely Brenda!
I have multiple befuddling former lovers. I don't think I could handle working so close to where they live though! Dang that would have me on edge. Hang in there! Hopefully we'll figure it all out someday.
Rachel – I am good. Seriously, this was long ago and my heart is mended (except for the missing pieces, which is par for lovers). I kind of like knowing fate has brought them full circle. Both are good people or I wouldn't have fallen in the first place. No regrets.
love the poem — the way it is full of real depth and love, not spite.
as far as your job's proximity to past lovers — makes me wonder if you meet men on your cigarette break? haha!
i am in touch with virtually all of my past lovers except one. i wonder how he is, or if he's even alive. i miss him and would love to run into him …
Only you, Linda. HAHA… No spite. I've never hated anyone I've lost, sure I've shed a tear or two, but such is life. Thanks for the kind words, it came out in a rush and I was hesitant to edit it. Best when they are raw. Good thing I am not a true poet, I hear Emily now.. groaning. ( As for the one lover you have lost, trust me, you'll bump into him when you least expect it. This much I know.
Brenda…can you stop by blog for a moment? I have something for virtual sister!
Val – you're a sweetie. Have been and now pondering.
….. Egyptian cotton sheets in room 319.
Loooooooooooooove your details, Ms. B. xx
Only for you, Kim, do I share these strange ramblings of mine..
Brenda, I'm not so much into poetry, but even I can see you have a special way with it. As for crossing paths with two men who "slipped beneath your skin," (I really liked that), the timing was unfortunate at best. Running into ex's can be quite jarring, no less two on the same day. As for being left befuddled by a man, that hasn't been my experience in adulthood. In my younger years it was frequent. I had a penchant for sleeping with men right away, then wondering why they never called. Thank God I grew out of that!
June- you are probably wiser than most women. I liked that line too, slipped …. it's how it feels when someone takes hold, puts up a tent, and settles before obtaining permits. Delighted that you enjoyed. My work here is done. Yeah!
Ahh, love lost. I could write for days on this. Love replaced by anger, replaced by rage, replaced by some foreign feeling that you still don't recognize. I'm not a poet but I loved this Brenda. We sometimes need to release. And it feels so good when we do.
Thanks, Dawn. I always struggle with poetry because it's so esoteric and I am not a writer of that sort. I like it plain and a little on the raw side, which probably explains why Oprah isn't interview me. Love, is a strange and mysterious wonder.
Well girl, get your hanky panky groove on at the J-O-B.
I'm having a relationship with my laptop. I love him and besides the internet going haywire from time to time, he loves me back. Always there. Reliable. Sleek. And most importantly, Working.
Girrrrrl, I stay away from the job thing. I wouldn't wanna see them hookin' up with some other office hussy.
Tosh – you crack me up. I think it's karma playing with me. She knows I was raised by wolves and gypsies and can take it, so it's just a little test to see how i'll respond. She's on my side really. I got a poem of sorts out of it. Not have bad.
Loved your poetry today…such emotion oozing from every word. I love the image (well, not love it for you, but from a literary standpoint) of you being sandwiched between buildings of your past lovers. That would make anyone clausterphobic! And I know Market Street well…SF is much smaller than one would think!
http://mamawolfe-living.blogspot.com
Mamawolfe (still love your handle) finding the word or words to trap a fleeting emotion is has healing as drinking a glass of wine and listening to Peggy Lee.
Keep up the poetry Brenda; it soothes the soul like little else. I’m especially fond of the line, “My mind was broken, my eyes uneven, the words I wrote-empty, the prose lacked poetry…”
When something lacks poetry, you know it’s ephemeral as morning fog.
Have had plenty of loves that left me befuddled. That’s when I accept what turned out to be prose… but could have been incredible poetry.
Debra – poetry is a fearless art. I have great admiration for those that are gifted. Sometimes squeezing big emotions into a few lines of verse is the only way to contain what can't be.
Lady, I'm happy to report I am never left befuddled at the sight of old flames because to date, they all look like road kill. In any case, I'm left sighing…in relief. Not to mention, looking up to the sky and informing the man upstairs, "Now I understand."
Bella-you are so funny. You and Bev D. oh yes, and Miss June, have a wicked wit. Road kill.. love that.