The Heart Goes Missing

Powerful poeming and gorgeous rhymes… love, loss and broken hearts
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No Talent For Certainty

When all the towers you could build
Come tumbling to the ground,
When all the music you have loved
Becomes just so much sound

When all that you held precious is
Dismissed for someone new,
The heart goes missing for a time
There’s nothing you can do

Instead of heartbeats, there’s an aching
Constantly, inside;
In lieu of courage, emptiness,
Where once there was some pride

They say the heart is broken, but
There’s madness in its place:
I’d say the heart goes missing;
Numbness
Filling up
The space

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Exhaustion — Poetry

I exhaust you
I exhaust me too —
this calamity of my mind
leaves a decimated forest in its wake
nothing beautiful flourishes here

And yet, you still love me —
despite the reign of terror
I unleash with voice and hands
the screaming, screaming
and objects aimed at your head —

I am a wildebeest!

In those moments of rage
I am engulfed by fire
my eyes frantically scan
for any exit in sight
but I cannot escape myself
I am trapped inside this mind
as much a hostage to my illness
as you are for loving me

I can’t make this fair for you —
no amount of wishing makes it go away
nor denial
it’s not a matter of if, but when
I will go off again —
How many times will you put out the fire?
How many times before we are both so exhausted
we are consumed by the flames?
Exhausted, exhausted
And die

©November 2013, Lori Carlson

Everything I Gave — a poem

Whole days I lingered
Parts of me fused into you
I couldn’t distinguish
My backbone from yours
Where my thoughts began
And yours ended

Once, our bodies molded
Into one lusty union
Passion so fierce
I feared us
We blazed the world
Untamed

I would have remained
Craven unto you
A victim of your will
Forever enmeshed
In this unholy bargain
A deal struck by blood

But you had me tangled
In fishnets
Of twisted waters
I nearly drowned
My lungs filled
With your darkness

You offered no light
No life
Separate from your illusions
Everything I gave
You stole
Crushed beneath your feet

This was not love
No joining of souls
Only despair remains here

©March 2015, Lori Carlson

Morning Ritual — Poetry

In silence, I find you
Sleeping idly
Locks of blond hair
Cascading down
Awashed in a waterfall
Soft eyelashes
Breathing upon your face

I hold my breath—
This moment will last a lifetime

Curled into me
A soft down pillow
One small hand upon my shoulder
Feet intertwined—
We are one
A trickling creek
Lingering through a meadow

I sigh—
Such bliss I’ve never known

You stir—
Eyes opening in awe
Two blue flowers blossoming
A shy smile beckons me
Red lips parting
A whisper upon my ears—
Rippling waves upon the shore

I breathe you in—
Good morning, my love

©February 2015, Lori Carlson

A Missive to Unfulfilled Love — Poetry

Dearest One,

I watch you laughing
Your face shimmers in early winter sunlight
Your beauty draws a crowd
Who wouldn’t want to be with one so radiant?

I sip my coffee
Too afraid to be near you
Too scared that I will reach out
Smooth away a stray hair from your forehead
Or caress your cheek with my hand
I need more than a few moments of your time

I’ve dreamt of lifetimes with you
Whole years lost in your loving arms
Where moments like this
Feel strange with others touching you

Your eyes scan the room and land on mine
I smile; you smile
You cross the room, settling into a chair beside me
I try to listen to your excited chatter
But I cannot resist your lips
So perfectly formed and rosy wet

You lean over and kiss my cheek
Your hands squeezing mine
And then you are off again

You are a social butterfly
That everyone wants to capture
To pin on display
But my heart would break to see you that way

And so, I let you go
Over and over again
©2014, Lori Carlson

A Letter to Dad, Father’s Day 2013 — Poetry

Dear Dad —

there’s a soft rain falling today
reminding me of home
and you —

rain ping
ping
pinging on the tin roof
like your laughter ringing through the house

I could have spent my entire life
comfortably by your side —
instead I ran from God
mother’s childhood and small-minded people
my own mind, a wide-open chasm
even you fell through —
I didn’t even know you were gone
that’s how selfish I’d become

and now, so far away from you —
you’ve become my Zen master
just relax and enjoy the day
if I had only been an ample student
I would have known this my entire life

like the drops of rain on the tin roof
slow and methodical, like laughter pealing

© 2013 Lori Carlson

A Valentine’s Dream — Poetry

A Valentine’s Dream

Only when I sleep
do I find you
slipping slowly
ever slowly
into my mind
there…
just a hushed breath
away from me
where you are always
leaning into me
your hot breath
sizzling my neck
your hands
encircling my waist
our bodies
crashing into one another
down down down
onto the bed
falling into one mass
searing kisses
leaving us heaving
our tongues
lapping
teasing
exploring
taunt ripe nipples
erecting toward me
Only there
my lips
searching your body
lands so rich
with honey-dripping
caramel-infusing
creamy undertones
of chocolate-lacing
intoxication
lapping at your essence
feeling you spasm
from waves of pleasure
Your hands
pulling me closer
ever closer
into you
legs wrapping
around my waist
and the moaning
moaning
consuming lust
And in that moment
looking up into your eyes
seeing your face flushed
your veins
popping around your neck
wide-eyed
staring back at me
waves of orgasms
tensing your abs
fluttering…
I know this is love
And as I wake
reeling in your afterglow
longing for just one more moment
I remember…
Happy Valentine’s Day, my darling

(c)February 2015, Lori Carlson

Two Thousand and Fourteen

~for TS~

You still linger there
On the cusp of thoughts
I’d longed to forget—
The way your smile
Enchanted me
Lips curled up—
You sucked on your lower lip
Whenever I entered the room
Your eyes left me naked
And vulnerable—
I still shiver
Not from embarrassment
But from the mere desire
I felt then
And now

I still wonder
Where you went for nine months
Why you left me
When I was so exposed
And alone—
Why did you chose midnight
Of the New Year
To return to me—
I couldn’t bear the pain
Of losing you all over again
So I ripped you from my heart
My life
But not my memory

We will always have College Street
And those six months of bliss
Even as my heart hardens
And these tears stain my face—
Will I ever find love again?

©January 2015, Lori Carlson

The Harborer of Love

I enter the bedroom, so exhausted from living
and see you lying there, ebony strands on ivory,
your comforter-encased body clinched around my pillow.

If only I could tell you the haunts that keep me from you.
I tremble as I sit upon a corner of the bed, fear crawls in,
leers back and forth between us.

I beg it to leave, to not take the love we share,
to allow you the innocence of one unaffected
by the struggles of a deranged mind.

You stir; your eyes barely open and blink
as you move your head to rest upon my knee.
You inhale and exhale, sighing; I smell of sea salt and fish.

Tired from a day spent worn from demons,
I gently caress your hair. Your eyes close
and fear trembles upon your lips.

Sighing deeply, I tell you all is fine.
You whisper, I know
but I hear the doubt.

Amends

In the glint of your eyes

I see the reflection of smoke, rising

You study me—hands on hips

Head cocked to one side

I don’t blame you for the uncertainty—

I wouldn’t trust me either

But I’ve come to make amends

To give back to you what I stole

That night I littered the streets with your dignity

 

I hold out my hands

A small box nestled between two sweaty palms

You look down at it, your face twisted

And I can only imagine the conflict, bleating

I move my hands closer to you

Pushing the box within mere inches of your own hands

You hesitate—shaking fingers begin to reach forward

You grasp it—I move back a step

 

“What is it?”

“Open it.”

You lift the lid and the box nearly falls from your hands

“Why?”

“It was never mine to keep.”

“But I gave it to you willingly.”

“And look what I did with it.”

You look at the cold flesh lying inside the tissued box

Tears well up—you thrust the box back at me

“Keep it.”

“But you deserve to love again.”

“You’ve mangled it. What good will it do me now?”

 

I place the box on the table

Give you another glance—you cross your arms

That one motion that tells me it’s time to move on

“Take it with you!”

But you know I won’t