Blessed Foolishness

m parkes inappropriate love
from my favorite artist Michael Parkes

After belaboring sowing and reaping,

and reminding that Karma is a bitch,

I laud blessed foolishness.

There are things in our living

that can make tricksters of us.

Absolute fools.

The high card of them all

is love.

Praise affection

familial and friendly.

For me, nothing compares to

Eros —

Who sets one cockeyed silly bombastic

earthmoving and roving,

melt-earth-and-rocks foolish.

I do experience this

addicting affliction in my lifetime.

It is fully irrational,

falling to pieces to give all my pieces away.

Mister Toad’s wild ride careens

between crashing chaos and

pummeling wind

euphoria

mounting the silken enchanted carpet.

This love takes body, soul, goods and

sanity.

Foreshadowing of the searing slicing

pain

of Eros’ love’s end

haunts, bites and blunts.

It leaves me with

gratitude

that I live authentically

recklessly

from my foolish smitten heart.

I lose all. I find all.

No one can take this away —

body and soul are knit.

I am the fool clown for love.

I live on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Thing Called Love

“I love you”

Falls easily from lips,

One realizes.

Almost a cliché.

Now I think – if you love me,

prove you are man enough for me.

I am formidable.

Only the true and brave stay

beyond the adrenaline rush season.

Cowards all?

A simple part of being

man enough –

Is

Paying

Attention.

strong me
Photo my own

 

 

 

 

 

If I Lived Down Your Road ….

trouble
Online Gif

If

I lived

down the road

from you,

How discombobulated you’d be by the things that I’d do. Late at night I’d knock at your door gowned in muslin and fragile moon haze. You would take me to your arms for my warm comfort after my mind-numbing days.

On languid summer afternoons, I’d saunter by to join you in your jazz fest hammock nest. When fireflies and crickets would start their twilight play, we’d follow suit in sweetness and damp. Your beard would be wet with dew before the predawn hour.

There are times I’d come to you tense as an out-of-tune piano wire. You would brush my hair. I’d groom you like a cat — with care. We’d tangle in frantic therapeutic moves wrestling in front of the Cherrywood fire.

If you lived up the road from me, how bumpy and unpredictable your days and nights would be, my sovereign. Sprites would people your life, all to be in the company of this astral traveling husband and wife.

Just so you are aware before the time is due, what will happen when I live down your road from you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To Darling Daring Don (Juan)

mp for me
Art ~ Michael Parkes

Salute to a man

real man

who is man enough

to be with a dimensional

smart wild woman.

Cheers to a man

who has courage to choose life

against all pressure in a culture

in a coma dead from feeling.

Choosing, choosing, choosing for himself

— not just talking about “no boundaries”

but choosing to love and not fear

a woman of light, shadow and vitality.

Hurry to me.

 

 

 

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

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

 

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.

 

 

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.

 

My Last Lament About THAT

Angel Interrupted by M. Parkes
Angel Interrupted

As of December 14, 2018, I am going to quit mourning and start enjoying this Yuletide/Advent/Christmas Season.

“After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul

“And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning, and company doesn’t always mean security

“And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts and presents aren’t promises and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes ahead

“With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child and you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight

“After awhile you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much so you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers

“And you learn that you really can endure, that you really are strong, and you really do have worth

“And you learn

“And you learn

“With every goodbye you learn.   ~   Veronica A. Shoffstall