Skip to main content

Beguiling Anger

Sometimes I stop and consider whether all of the effort is profitable, yet alone worth it. We will be sailing along calmly, the waters still and relaxed, a veritable rippling mirror. We cradle each other's hearts lovingly, our bond unvarnished, pure, and inexplicable. No pushing or prodding is required to maintain it. It simply is, natural and free, an accepted fact like the crisp air or the vast skies. Then, from nowhere, a tsunami hits, followed by an extraordinarily torrential thunderstorm. We struggle vainly and perspiringly to stay afloat, to maintain structural integrity. However, despite all action, we inevitably capsize. As I lay dying, adrift and motionless on the lapping, depressing surface, I witness something beautiful and eerily familiar. Out of the wreckage, you and I both rise, seized by some unseen force. Our vessel is repaired, no longer a rickety, wooden skeleton, but an ironclad warship. Like the phoenix, we ascend to the horizon, revitalized and assured, before landing gently back on the deck, rejuvinated. With weary eyes and hopeful hearts, we embark again on shaky sails and a loving bedrock. Move towards the Sun, it leads to Heaven.

We were outlaws roaming free, surviving intimidation and incarceration, rivals and reticence. Our conversations were light and spontaneous, carefree and wily. We were explorers, each discovering a new, unmolested cave that led to the unrestrained, dangerous wilds of our hearts. Eagerly, we rampaged through the world hand in hand, unobstructed by depression, unmoved by weakening temptation. From you I scavenged peace of mind, sanity, acceptance, and, most unadorned, friendship. Love blossomed, and we never looked back. In return, you found in me hope, a home, and the raw materials with which to mend your aching soul, torn and maliciously savaged as it was. We healed together, and as I think back across the vast swathe of time weve spent together, tears trickle past my stubborn hands, leaping past my defenses. Your mark on my spirit is as indellible, unique and permanent as any tattoo.

Two stubborn, broken fools, thats what we are. We argue because of our collective pride and due to the prodigious swiftness with which we both take offense. Our hearts have beheld us in agony as we degenerate into little more than posturing monkeys, locked in the knells of deadly combat. Screaming, screeching, howling and yelling are the calling cards of a verbal onslaught. Objects thrown, feelings distended and devotion dismantled are the ultimate results as we both lay collapsed in the wake of the fog of of our own personal war. We aren't unlike any number of couples that thickly dot the Earth like pores on skin, present but invisible due to the sheer density of their ranks. But then, they dont matter. No one matters but you and I. For every endless grind there have been exponentially rising periods of gliding ebullience. No one is perfect, especially not you or I. But you AND I. That's where the magic lies. Perfectly imperfect, functionally dysfunctional, syntonically dystonic. Beautifully horrific. Bonnie and Clyde.

Through sheer force of will and me coming to my senses, youve managed to corral this drifter into something I said I would never again suffer through: A long distance relationship. My last attempt ended disgustingly, to put it mildly, and after the dust had settled, as I rocked my battered heart carefully, encased in strong arms, I promised him that we would never take such an abysmal risk ever again. I would instead be autonomous and incorporeal, flitting in and out of women's lives at will, while claiming and discarding them like a libidinous collector. A fun life, one that I enjoy and hold no regret nor remorse for. But it was a reverie, and like all reveries, it had to eventually be punctured by reality. Loneliness gnawed at my heels, an inscrutible hellhound that refused to be ignored or disregarded. Incensed, I recklessly pursued pleasure in greater and greater amounts until, spent and barren, I gave in. I acknowledged that I needed, if not a girlfriend, then a companion, a ride or die partner, who would provide emotional buoyancy while enabling me to keep my cherished freedom. Then you appeared. I begged my Lord and Savior for an angel to descend and save me from my vices, my torment and anguish. Instead He laughed, and allowed a demon to surface, clad in camoflauge, yoga pants and flannel shirts 3 sizes too large. Things began simply enough, and as attraction blossomed into infatuation  which then shed its juvenile chrysalis and became a mature, deep love, we grew devoted and exclusive. One morning I woke with a start, and with the sudden thought, "Fuck, I have a girl again.", I surrendered myself to our fantasies. We are inseperable, chained together by an unseen, irrepressible force more potent than gravity. An ocean is nothing compared to kindred spirits. Take my hand and lets fly.

You anger and beguile me. Your tenacious attention to the details in my own life that I either miss or neglect drains me of my rebelliousness until I inevitably concede. At times I feel like Im a teenager living back at home. "Take your boots off in bed.", "Youre not eating Taco Bell again for dinner.", "Put on a shirt, for fucks sake.". I rally against the structure and order with all the rage and contention I can muster, yet it is in vain. Because the truth is that for the past 2 years Ive craved somebody there to care about me. To penetrate the facade, the leather, callousness, tattoos and hostile aura, and see me for who I am. Ive wailed for reconciliation, and instead Ive been given a new lease on life. Congratulations baby, youve successfully eluded the Fighter's fists, expertly placated the Player's silver tongue, convinced the Vagabond to cease his directionless roaming, and eased the suffering of the Poet. If we succeed, rapture awaits us, and if we fail, we can bear the pain knowing we defied Neptune himself. But we will succeed. The alternative is a curse neither of us can bear. Now, lets do this. I love you.

Popular posts from this blog

Countertop

Haunting this countertop/ Wondering how could all/ This go bad and walk/ Away from us, the patterns caught/ On repetition in my life, absent thought/ A coward's plot/ To brandish false/ Hope and manage slots/ Left over from the branch that rots/ Away, the old adage copped/ As an excuse, wrath of God/ Plant your balk-/ -ing seeds and stand and walk/ Because you are my spectre/ And I'm stressing/ Out over the time left in/ Our dying ending/ The price mentioned/ Was too much, so I write, wept in/ Quiet, bet this/ Life's questions/ Won't answer why settling/ Down defied convention/ My best friend/ You'll soon fly, stretching/ Our hearts like vested/ Lives destined/ To find remnants/ Of each other in every girl or guy messed with/ And getting over you/ Is akin to choking booze/ Down and moping through/ My days, hopeless, nude/ Vulnerable, emotions bruised/ Soaked in blue/ Feelings, morose and gloom/ My heart poured into/ Every poem proof-/   -read at a bar, alone, enthus

4 Reasons Why I'll Be A Vagabond In 2 Years

4 Reasons Why I'll Be A Vagabond In 2 Years As my parole date looms and I prepare to muster out of the service that's cradled me the entirety of my adult life, I face the future with an uneasy trepidation coupled with my characteristic combative nature. I've heard every excuse, tempting me with bonuses and transparent promises regarding where I could live next, to tales of woe and agonizing regret, detailing the life of a miscreant that fleed from the Navy, expecting to flourish in the free world, no longer bound by the constraints of military life. Eager and cherry, they're invariably met with a crippling reality, sprinting head first into a shallow pool of filthy water barely concealing jagged, dangerous rocks and craters. I'll take my chances as I retake the reins of my life, though, even this far out, I know that my path will hardly be traditional, and will probably offend some traditionally and civically min

A Drunkard's Lament

              Alcohol/ Is a battle fought/ With madness wrought/ From the sadness caught/ Between a man that calms/ His hands and thoughts/ With poison that wraps its claws/ Around his watch/ Makes time pass and stop/ Whenever he slams a shot/ I have forgot-/ -ten the chasms walked/ Barefoot and half distraught/ When I've drowned in bot-/ -tles of the brownest rot-/ -gut liquor, that the damned can flaunt/ Prancing, dropped/ By the rancid vom-/ -it that crams and falls/ From the mouth of all/ The manic lost/ Ones that choose to pad their traum-/ -as with Jack and vod-/ -ka, Schnapps and all-/ -the traps of karma/ Let's get plastered, crawl the/ Line, disasters wobbling/ Pants are starting/ To tear, we're panting, heart is/ Racing, death a tragic pardon/ From the crimes of a master wrong one/ The fortune amassed is startling/ Fan your pockets/ For the change that's always last for varmints/ Alas, unvarnished/ Regrets are magic, popping/ Up wherever you're lashed and