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Is hope an emotion? To have allowed myself to want her? To know what could have been? 3
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A poetic journal of my month-long romance with janeofdreams June 19 - July 25 20095
The longer I am away from Jane, the more I will cherish our days together; the deeper I will delve into them, and the more I will impart here. Such days, and I hope you've had them, are precious, though they become frozen in time... 6
italics - for poetic monologues and actual dialogs 7
standard text - narration 8
indented - poems 9
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My Days with Jane- Meeting in Dreams14BC – BEFORE COMMENTS15
She came from a dream evaporating into the atmosphere,
rising up and beyond the clouds, then beyond the earth,
spanning the universe with the energy of her creations,
reaching from her window, out of profound sadness
and enduring devotion, touching the heart with lasting imprints
like beautiful memories, even victory over death
in epic fairytale sagas for those feeling abandoned and forgotten,
finding company in writing, even though alone,
taking others to new worlds with new perceptions,
continuing on in the midst of despair, kindness being its own reward,
the rise and swell of the sea spraying upon the peaks of words
in the heights and depths of love pricked by loveliness and gloom,
the weariness of a heart in an empty hourglass of time,
dreamy, mysterious as a silver orb in the soft moonlight
whispering in the dark with a voice posing questions about life
dwelling on the tongue, opening inner pathways
with no real triumph, just another great sadness for the natural world...16
A fisherman in his boat, with two lucky lovers wonderful to watch,
having faith in what they found, love renewing amid loss
in gloss and tossed hair, in a detached awareness,
adding grace to an otherwise tragic life, grounded in transcendence,
expressions of gratitude eternally cherished, a ride not completely useless,
even in a freefall of helplessness amid the indiscretions of selfish people,
being twisted, turned, and pulled to the depths of mankind’s darkness,
flowing streams from the deep well of emotions, free spirited,
in a wonder-filled journey of self, bittersweet yet hopeful,
taking time to describe the sorrow of innocence lost,
then regaining composure to give good advice,
in the worst of times discovering who you are,
gaining inner strength and conviction, crafted to drive us away,
yet drawing us in, unique and independent, compelled to speak
while traveling with the mind and dreaming with the heart,
surrendering to the force of sheer creation,
until she ran up against a hard head of granite with a creative spark...
So she met the fierce creature in a timeless wonder...17
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June 19 INTRODUCTIONS 19
This was a timeless wonder, so short, yet an era,
the everlasting impact I could not imagine, to be punished forever,
but that is the essence of this site, to write,
to capture all of life, the good, the bad, the joyous, and, always in the end, the sad.20
Was it a mysterious mystique that was so compelling, this brevity?
Sophistication leading down many avenues, carefully paced in the beginning,
presenting enough to pique interest, then leave the other craving more;
a curious view, the exchanges, the writing, seeming to stress something beyond,
perhaps simply to take the reader out to dinner, feasting on heart, soul, and eyes...21
If you could read my mind, these words would not be necessary.
Was she trouble in a skirt? Most decidedly.
Were there revolutionary jelly beans scheming in an old film noir?
Actually, yes.
There were apologies, the world going obsolete;
emotions shaken, then stirred in pithy and poignancy,
their depth cloaked in wit, humor, and divine retrospect
blended in an emulsive mix...22
She saw strength, vigor, mettle, and forcefulness in brief expressions
of significance and importance, but she was, she confessed, very lonely,
and desperate for a man...23
At times she became scared, running away when emotions of love surfaced,
drowning in pools of deepening tears while addressing them alone,
yet here, she stood undressed, in pure admiration and heartfelt regard,
her untouched heart and soul bared, ready for the sheer impact
of an emotional orgasm, pondering out loud on the experience,
a cleverly disguised great work of art under lids to be lifted slowly
to discover wise and deep insights, in gradual degrees,
less one’s heart and mind explode;
and a beautiful, sexy face, neither yawning nor eating popcorn...24
There are many layers to beauty, and some require age,
or more euphemistically, ‘a long time to develop’,
layers which are victims of the shallowness of their times,
easily crushed, but, life, being a battle of wits,
offers a level playing field that all can enter on equal foothing,
the winner often employing psychological ju-jitsu...25
She was trophy material, and had suffered the consequences,
a lack of self image, no freedom to develop as a person;
and hence here she suffered my pep talks, a side benefit of an interactive site,
prodding her not to lower her self-image to the level of her surroundings...26
Our passing destinies crossed when she endeavored
to think deep and chew gum at the same time...27
June 16, 2009
Mountain Rain28
Words fell like rain over the mountain
As nature prepared for her day of work
The first drops fell on the mountain's eyes
Like glistening diamonds of treasured surprise
The rain fell over the mountain's side
And embraced with trickling arms to guide
The rain fell into the mountain canyon
And formed a river of deep abandon
Swirling with airy, white foam peaks
Driven by currents of deep-swept mystique
That flowed to the meadow and flowered its plain
As if my mind were the mountain
And your words were the rain.
I missed the underlying meaning of her symbolic entry,
seeing only a pastoral relationship between writer and reader,
the flowering of plains, and a head of granite...29
I reached, as did she, in, then all around, and deep within, then farther out,
reeling in sublime imagery, devouring words deeply thought and slowly written,
the emotional repertoire introspectively expressive in wit and circumstance,
drawn from trying relationships, the weariness and wounds
sometimes lost in the cheer of the stadium...30
‘Deep’, the quintessential expression of what their writings to one another were,
in which her skirt became entangled, and, quite delightfully
clarifying the way, making astute observations, and most importantly,
shining a light of intellect long thirsted for, and long denied;
dreams soaring through the heavens with imaginings,
and yet more Shakespearean innuendos sailing right over my head...31
There were main poetic entries, but also profound replies,
the placing of one another within; the admiration of indomitable strength
even as it softened in wonder with what it found in hand,
reacting more to the poet than the poetry, and thinking of her in solitude...32
Then a little dread onscreen, while dancing with chance,
after eyes were closed and mouth opened saying too much;
then the fear that eyes would open to loneliness again, because of what she said,
and me, a friend already,
which I, dwelling farther from the heart, did not suspect...
but progress was made, we became favorites...33
She found uncommon wit, patience, and understanding in me;
and I found daydreams that require pulling off the road to finish.
I then allowed myself to dwell upon her photo with heart and mind,
and I studied it, searching deep within, and this is what I found...34
June 26, 2009
In a Woman35
I see her eyes, eyes that once burned with fire,
I feel her heart, a heart once filled with passion,
I share her sleep, a sleep once filled with summer dreams,
I know her arms, arms that once held what she wanted most to hold,
and her smile, a warmth that was once given willingly;
in her eyes, I see the gleam subdued…
in her heart, her passion, embered,
her dreams, misting just beyond her reach,
her arms, waiting to hold that which she most wants to hold,
and her smile, searching…
for a man to give them all to...
This is not an easy journey,
the pain of life awaits every wrong decision,
every unrequited endeavor,
every shallow and mean encounter…36
So they stir, low...37
In her eyes, wishing to gleam bright again,
in her smile, yearning to be given freely again,
in her heart, grasping to feel warmth again,
in her arms, wishing to hold again
that which they most dearly want to hold;
a sleep, waiting to arrive in summer dreams again,
and in a woman,
searching for a spark again…38
So my imagination began to roam, with her, about her, over her...
and she departed, traveling back to water, waves, sand
and the eternal qualities of the sea that have inspired poets for all time..39
She endeavored to learn all she could in eight seconds,
if she could survive the rhythmic pounding of the bull,
just survive, with no grand words of wisdom for a children’s book,
just mystic tones, quiet within the forest, with a spirit of awe and deep respect,
as peaceful and serene as a starry sky, yet lurking deep within
an incisive power that cuts the soul, an image of evil as a cloak,
creeping, ominous thoughts, then actions, hurting those one loves
descending, frightening, damaging, tempting, then finally passing
with deliverance of compassion and sacrifice, enduring visits,
escaping its grasp, though coming away inanimate,
except for the mental tongue dragging on the ground...40
She shared her spirit, though that of a lone wolf,
the journey of a solitary life now a song of joy and praise,
falling under despair the rising again, though questioning
if there should be hope in life amid its bitter taste
and the quest for universal appeal, beauty in serenity...41
Then she came hither again, but did not know what to wear,
living her whole life just to hear one simple phrase,
and being granted a fantasy, though no song was prepared,
she departed again...42
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