Condemned For Loving Too Much


Condemned for Loving Too Much

Poetry Palace Award

Loving (TV series)
Image via Wikipedia

“Condemned for Loving too Much”

All was quiet in this forgotten town,

Because of the record snow tumbling down,

Yet in the plaza crowds were shopping still,

Looking for entertainment to get their fill,

There were walkers, and talkers, shops all ablaze,

Restaurants still open but countless delays,

Marge was waiting patiently and talking to a friend,

This day had been perfect, she didn’t want it to end,

Somehow, she noticed him, standing off from the crowd,

His gray eyes fixed on her, haughty and proud,

His brown coat, his lean frame, the thin twisted nose,

Why she alone could see him, she could only suppose,

His eyes asked questions, the answers she didn’t dare,

What kind of man was he? One that didn’t care?

Was he an angry ghost or a demon of some kind?

Why were his thoughts penetrating her mind?

Somehow in his hands he held her new fate,

She thought, “Is it possible to love someone you hate?”

As this thought surfaced, Marge pushed it away,

She had never seen him before, not until today,

“He is not attractive,” she thought, “not in the least,”

But he continued to stare at her like she was a feast,

Her face flushed, and deep within the heat began,

Rising in waves until perspiration ran,

She was uncomfortable, she needed time to think,

But he watched her diligently, not once did he blink,

“Is it possible to love your enemy?” she thought,

“What is it about me that’s so eagerly sought?”

She was thirty-three years old for goodness sake,

And ten pounds too heavy, give or take,

Yet she was flattered by his attention even more,

Unlike her friends, all her faults he chose to ignore,

He willed her to move forward, but he didn’t insist,

Although she closed her eyes, she was helpless to resist,

Silently Marge turned, her demon she faced,

When he smiled, her legs trembled, her heart raced,

She took one step forward, two, then three,

She unbuttoned her blouse, letting him see,

She hated him and yet she was offering her kind,

Melting into love, her body yielding to his mind,

Seeking his hatred, demands, contempt to slay,

Doing what she could, loving his hate away,

An act of love determined Marge’s fate,

Is it possible to love, someone you hate?

All is quiet again in this forgotten town,

But there is one less demon standing around,

No one wants to question or be out of touch,

Should Marge be condemned for loving too much?

No Rain in Sight


the crickets were forecasting the weather last night,

singing, “No rain in sight, No rain in sight!”

wells are drying up, businesses are shutting down,

soon no one will be living in this deserted town.

today two men were chastised for washing their car,

I’ve got to escape real soon to someplace real far.

my friends are looking at me with evil in their eyes,

my well is still working but i’m beginning to tell lies.

if they only knew I took a bath last night,

they’d sputter and yell and say it wasn’t right.

then one and all would leave with a frown,

and sometime at night my house might burn down.

I’ve got to be careful when crickets sing their song.

anything I might say could be construed as wrong.

I’m breathing dust that hangs heavy in the air,

there’s no rain in sight, so beware, beware!

by dan roberson

PERCEPTION


Ugly

I believed I grew up in an ugly town,

A small community tucked in a small corner

Of nowhere,

Where smiles stayed hidden

And were rarely found.

The land was hot and dry in summer,

But cold and wet in winter.

Everyone said it was ugly

And I believed it to be the center

Of a cosmic mistake.

Where was the beauty?

The town pulled at me

Tied me down,

Trapped me in webs of misery

And kept me bound.

“Leave it. Leave it,” I was warned.

“There are places to see, places to be,

Stay away from this town where hope cannot see.”

For years I searched for beauty and smiles,

Crossed oceans and mountains and countless miles.

I did not find the city of my dreams.

Happiness did not exist,

All cities were the same.

I returned to my city,

Weary and worn from my search.

I had learned to smile, learned to enjoy,

Learned to change my attitude.

I greeted each person I chanced to meet,

With a smile.

I looked around and found

Changes in my ugly town.

In the summer it was kissed by the sun,

And the cold in winter was also fun.

This was not a town of misery,

But a town of hope for all to see.

Each smile I encountered brightened my way,

And the town grew more beautiful day by day.

My town, a place to live and grow,

An Eden, a garden below.

Beauty is now found inside of me,

And my smiles are there for all to see.

By Dan Roberson

MISSING PIECES


MISSING PIECES

In a basket on my desk there are twelve coins of various values,

A few handwritten notes jotted down when things began going wrong,

Seven unclaimed keys, one left behind after a few drinks too many,

Three keys meant to open padlocks of long deserted farmhouses,

And two keys from a car missing somewhere on the back roads.

The stately clock in the hall ticks steadily along,

Unaware that the weather has changed and a cold storm approaches.

It’s raining outside and my arms are empty.

But I know my destiny is calling and I must answer,

The rain will turn into snow and cover my tracks.

Tonight she’s with someone and I wait impatiently,

My rage contained and hidden behind a smile and a promise.

I know which farmhouse they’ve been visiting,

And I know by now they have had too much to drink.

The missing car is lost forever, just like my love for her.

If we could have kept our love unblemished,

We could have grown closer instead of apart.

If she had been faithful and remained committed,

Those keys would have rusted away without being used.

It’s snowing now and I know I’ll miss her warm embrace.

The blanket of white is so appealing,

All the ugliness will be covered until spring.

All that I’ll keep are the coins to remember,

Erasing the pain from my broken heart,

Each coin represents a lover. Why did they all go wrong?

By Dan Roberson

I LOVED WOMEN!


I LOVED WOMEN

I loved women long ago,
A time when I wrote poetry and songs.
I wrote stories about them, too,
Stories from my heart.
I dreamed of them in color.
My fingers dipped into paints, creating beautiful images,
Filling my dreams with warm memories.
I still think about the women I loved, and the women I lost.
I focus on their enigmatic smiles, their eloquent eyes.
Each with unique characteristics.
I keep the memories sacred, never blending,
Never forgetting.
Every woman was special
But one in particular caught my attention.
It was her fragrance,
Her way of pleasing me, her touch
That I loved so much,
The energy she used to keep us together.
Yes, but in some ways she was not so special.
She had one flaw.
She was jealous.
As I admired other women I found that
Each one desired to be beautiful.
Each loved from her heart.
Each had a fierce determination to keep me
In her spell.
Because I did not, could not select,
My dreams didn’t last.
My world crashed as one woman after another
Became disgusted when I did not choose her.
I didn’t want to become attached
And I lost my opportunities.

I don’t speak to women anymore,
At least in a romantic fashion.
I have no idea where they have gone.
They scattered to the winds.

There is one I still treasure
My heart aches as I picture her, and us,
Loving together, laughing as we planned our future.
I know she will enhance the life of someone,
But not me.
Too late I woke and found her gone.
Too late did I welcome her love.
She took my heart when she left.
I miss her but no one will ever know.

DANCING AND LOVING IN HIGH HEELS (Her Version)


The music begins and my tension fades.
I relax as we warm up for a strenuous routine.
My partner says, “This has to be a good practice.
We are still clumsy and we compete in two weeks.”
Our movements must be fluid and graceful,
Effortless and natural.
Two long steps, Slide, two quick steps.
Your hands hold me firmly as you guide me.
You lead and I follow.
You step. I step.
My steps at the beginning match yours,
Except that I’m in high heels and going backwards.
No words are necessary.
We communicate by touch and sight.
My confidence in you is well-founded.
Your confidence in me is invigorating.
There is no hesitation as we spin and twirl.
When we make love our movements are smooth and natural,
Following our guidelines for dancing.
There is no rush and my arousal is guiding us.
We move purposely, learning from each other.
My anticipation builds as you touch and caress,
Loving me with gentle consideration.
You move and I follow.

The trust you’ve earned lets me relax,
And I celebrate our love with abandon.
As I love, dance, communicate, and celebrate,
My love grows deeper each time.

DANCING AND LOVING (Two versions)


(His version)

“Practice. Practice. Practice,” I say.

We know we must dance together purposely,

Even when our moves are smooth and graceful.

Our movements must be effortless and natural.

Two long steps. Slide. Two quick short steps.

I lead and you follow.

Our eyes are locked. Our hands firm.

We communicate by touch and sight.

The hours of practice are evident as we display our skills.

We move as one. I step. You step. I jump. You jump.

There is no hesitation. Your confidence in me is important.

When we make love we follow the same patterns,

Even if our moves are smooth and graceful.

We practice, learning from each other,

Communicating by touch and heart.

My speed is measured as I wait for your growing passion.

I move and you follow.

Loving and dancing. Dancing and loving.

There is no hesitation. Your confidence in me is vital.

Celebrating our love, communicating with our hearts.

I’ll never let you go as we move as one.

you believe in my love. I believe in yours.

Our confidence in each other is crucial,

As we love, dance, communicate, and celebrate.

Our love grows deeper each time.

Once


 

These gnarled hands once were strong and quick,

Tying fishing lures and shoelaces.

They wiped tears and held your hand,

Kept you safe in scary places.

These feet usually raced you home.

You always thought it was fun.

Then we had days of kicking back,

Relaxing as we soaked up the sun.

These eyes read the words in your favorite books,

Counted stars and vacation miles.

I watched you grow up too quick,

Leaving for school with grown-up smiles.

My heart once thumped loudly at each parade,

As you marched proudly by.

Often we laughed at memories we made.

My! How the years did fly!