Wrestling with an Angel

mparkes unraveling himWrestling with an angel

and prevailing….

Ah, the mystical

mystique of the thought —

To wrestle all night

with a mysterious stranger

who begs to be gone

before daylight.

Wrestling with an angel

and prevailing….

After such a wrestling match,

you still get wounded

and you limp with the imbalance

and memory of it

for the remainder of life.

bonnat-jacob-detail
Detail from online art
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Something more.

Not sure what I am longing for.

Something more

comes to me as an impulse, event,

wind for good,

illusive wave upon the shore.

Something more

like the descent of a silken love god

draped in that “stop time for awhile” cape

whom I adore.

wind andrew wyeth
Painting: Andrew Wyeth

 

Winter Evaluation

goddess
Online Art of Goddess

Her best friend tells her not to take the rejection to heart.

“You make them feel unworthy. You’re formidable, boho and smart.”

She wonders how she managed to alienate such a crowd.

She has always been a “pleaser”. She is not crude or loud.

Her friend says the problem is brains/sass mixed with fun.

She’s the patron saint of unwise decisions.

There is no regret for wild actions,

Except those deeds she has not done.

 

 

In Memoriam — To Hope

agonizing-wolf
Online Wolf Tattoo

“Rumor has it he’s the one I’m leaving you for.” ~ Adele

 

There is a kind of peace knowing I treasured you.

I always will.

You hurt and disappointed. I forgive all involved.

I love you still.

 

You can celebrate and dance because if this has been a duel

Of beauty, pride, making an impression,

Having meaning in life,

You are winner without question.

 

My life was a phantom of being loveless without you.

I’ll put in my time — whatever I’m due.

My essence was an unfinished sentence . . . .

I no longer have to be completed by the likes of you.

 

 

 

 

 

Swan Song

Nightfall painting and giclee on canvas by artist Michael Parkes
Art ~ Michael Parkes

Curious, isn’t it.

I perhaps never loved you.

I just needed your distraction so badly. I was bored.

You perhaps never loved me.

You simply needed me to be your fairy god mother. You were oppressed.

Now we have separated because of our dis-eases.

After all our investment.

I am still bored.

And you are more oppressed than ever before.

But.

I loved you.

No perhaps.

 

 

Wonder One . . . .

Boulet-Mercury003 Susan Seddon
Art ~ Susan Seddon Boulet

I will not forget the first time we had a corporeal encounter –
A hovering gossamer legion –
On the gray shore I stood watching essences float from silver heaven,
Chorusing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”
In thousands of intonations.

Once I was startled,
When One whooshed through my closed bedroom window,
A chest-high eagle, in the half light,
Gazing at me with keen golden eyes.

Wonder One sometimes acquires the form of a warm, brown horse.
Once, my first husband shot this creature.
Of course he could not kill — only wound.
Such power heals and lives.
I embrace the sturdy neck often.

Phenomenon flies behind my back and wraps me in an owl feather cape,
Chanting singsong whispers into my ear
When I am tied high in swaying pines.
At this touch, my hang-ups snap.

I have seen Divine as a curly-haired faun,
With fragrant, silken taupe skin.
Rarely could I look into such a face then.

Medicine woman, Robelle, saw my Protector when I lived in the haunted vicarage —
A giant young man in a brown suit standing guard.
In that house I needed shelter.

Great Crone came and sat with me on the stone bench before my altar
As my maternal grandmother Hannah.
She cackled when I asked her if she loved me.

Another time, as I mused on the same bench, before the same altar,
On a warm shore of Lake Superior, Wonder One emerged from the water
On fine gild-scaled legs, filmy wet gauze trailing,
Long strands of jewels and sea weed wound in tangled hair,
Silently sat with me.
Here again were the eyes of the eagle.

I summon Wonder One
Who cannot be escaped,
Who cannot be forced,
Who loves on me. . . .

OF YOU (a feeble effort at a love sonnet)

parkes_for-mirror
Art ~ Michael Parkes

My eye delights in you with disbelieving relish.

You are my perfumed paradise destination.

My love for you spans to the rock-pounding horizon.

The world with you is my eye-candy dish.

My love is for joy. I am not selfish.

My purpose is delight – not breeding-stock procreation.

The glory of far flung love is for our celebration.

Choose me to be your purple fragrant fetish.

 

 

 

REMAINS

familiar
Online Art

Of all the people I ever met, I thought I knew you the most intimately.

Of all the people I ever knew, I loved you the most fiercely.

Of all the people I ever loved, I was the most wide open to you.

Of all the people in all my life, you knew

most thoroughly my inner and outer terrain.

And yet, until that evil day,

you began to believe her lies about me,

there did not exist a love pure as mine for you.

And yet, you withdrew.

Body, soul, heart untrue.