A Poem

I am NOT a poet. Not by any stretch. I never could figure out how to adhere to any sort of real prescribed structure. So the end of this is formatted nothing like the beginning. Or maybe I should have just pretended I meant it that way? Yeah, we'll go with that. I meant for it to be this way!

Just the place my uncooperative mind took me in an effort to shake off my writing funk.

Love is Cool Water

May 19, 2012

The fire’s all burned out now,
The candles’ melted down to bone
And in these dying embers,
Nothing looks like home.
Passion brought us to this place,
And passion laid us low.
For in the dancing flames,
Not a thing was wont to grow.

The flowers are all dried up now,
Dust and dirt and death,
They taste of sour promises,
And choke with every breath.
Every wish has turned to wind,
And done what truth could not,
Cracked a heart in two,
And filled a vase with rot.

The gems have fallen out now,
They fell from melted gold,
The diamonds cut like razors,
Because affection can be sold.
We cry when we should laugh,
And laugh when we should not,
Because nothing really matters,
When this love was bought.

Love is cool water
and deep, thick mud.
It is earth and roots and all that is constant and keeps us whole.
Love that is bought or traded is not love at all,
but a glamour.

Love does not burn,
Love does not smell,
Love does not sparkle,
It has no secrets to tell.
Love is cool water.