Poetry 2015 - Odessa McNiel (beautiful books to read txt) 📗

The Meaning of Love

One day, a little boy saw a word that someone at school showed him,

And he didn't understand the meaning.

So, he asked his mother and father about the word

And they couldn't even begin to explain.

He was too young to understand the meaning of the word anyway.

 

A few years later, the boy saw the word again but in a phrase with a different meaning.

So, he asked his parents what it meant, but they didn't know what to say.

They didn't know how to explain the word that way.

 

A teenage boy falls in love for the first time,

And he finally thinks he knows the meaning of that word in that phrase.

So, he decides to tell his parents the meaning of this word

Because he didn't think they knew what it meant.

 

So, he invited over his friend and stood before his parents,

Prepared to tell them what he thought it meant.

But they shunned him, and told him to go away.

They didn't want to hear what the boys had to say.

 

Now, two men stand before a priest that held a bible in his hands.

They told the priest the meaning of the word they heard so long ago,

And he nodded his head.

Someone finally heard what had to be said.

 

So, the priest took the bible and laid it upon the alter at the front of the church,

And he read the traditional vows of the wedding.

And he understood what the men had said about the word they learned in school when they were young.

And he rethought all the things he thought he knew about the meaning of love.

Again

It's like the pain is real again.

This tearing of my heart,

Tearing into physical pieces,

A from B,

B from C.

 

I thought I felt the real pain

Six years ago,

Almost to the day,

Like a stake to my heart,

Blood pouring freely from the open wound.

 

I thought it was over that day,

This pain that's tearing me apart.

I want them to be happy;

There's nothing that I want more than that,

But this somehow makes everything

So real,

So painful-

So terribly and utterly painful.

 

I felt so terrible when they told me it was over

Because I blamed myself.

I've blamed myself somewhere

In the back of my head for the last six years,

Even though it wasn't my fault.

 

It was never my fault,

Yet somewhere, in me, I've always thought it was.

I was the one who proved it-

My little, naïve brain had found the fugitive responsible for my mother's pain,

But the repercussions of my actions

Have brought me the most sincere pain

I've ever felt in my whole life.

 

I thought it turned out well in the end,

The two of them on invisible opposite ends of the Earth,

The most logical plan in the book.

But the truth bruised me,

It has never faded, and

It possibly never will, and

There is nothing I can do.

 

I feel hopeless.

I feel lost.

I feel broken beyond repair.

 

I love the woman who has gained his heart

Even as if she were my own mother,

But there is a part of me who questions the motives of his heart,

I suppose that if her were to break her,

I would never forgive him.

 

I'm not going to pity the man who hurt so many,

It will be his fault this time,

If he hurts her,

Not mine.

 

Becaue I don't think I could handle the burden of another of his heartaches.

 

I don't think I could take the pain again.

 

I don't think I could look into his eyes and beg for his mercy again.

 

I don't think I could watch his downfall again.

 

I don't think I could cause that much pain to anyone else...

 

Ever again...

Subject

The words were meant for comfort.

The gifts were meant to occupy.

The money was meant to buy.

 

But it couldn't buy your love.

The gifts only distracted.

And your words never helped;

They only faded.

Arson

The flowers withered,

Forgotten with time,

Colorless with age.

A ring of loneliness

Surrounding the display.

The house in disarray.

Piles of its shambles

Strewn across the floor.

Browning glass scattered,

Their pictures lingering

In the frames still burning.

Char marks paint the remnants

With the likes of black acrylic,

A stain everlasting.

The bedroom in the back smothered,

The scent of gasoline hanging low.

A bedspread still simmering.

A burnt body still sizzling,

Chained to the bed by Death.

Two shallow graves in the yard,

Fresh with the pokes of a spade.

One grave filled and patched.

One still to go. 

You

The walls are crumbling and tumbling down.

Chunks are falling ever so slowly towards the ground.

Soon it is gone, and all I see is you.

All I see is you standing there,

Reaching out for my hand.

I'll reach for yours too.

 

Because of all the things that I want,

I only want you.

I could have millions,

But what would it all be worth without you?

I only want you.

 

You broke my shell,

That hard outer casing surrounding

My own living hell.

You released me from the suffering

And aching within which was my soul.

So beautiful.

 

My heart grows sore from every moment

That I've lived without you.

You built my strength up

And then left me to deal with the down.

How is that fair?

I was barely coping before you came around.

I loved you.

 

Because of all things that I wanted,

I only wanted you.

I could have had millions,

But what would it all be worth without you.

I only wanted you.

Our love was worth more than its weight in gold.

I miss you.

 

You left me in the middle of the night.

And the glue from the walls was suddenly repaired with new.

The bricks were relaid and my emotions fell away into each bottle of champagne with no review.

The depression was worse than anything I ever knew.

My friends, they told me the things that all along I knew were true.

They were the few.

 

I tried letting go.

Oh, I tried so hard.

I cried.

The memories of you were obscenely surreal.

I thought they were real when reality set in and set my thoughts all in a spin.

Yes, I knew then.

 

But you were all that I wanted.

I gave you all that I had,

And when nothing was left to give,

It all died with you.

In that hospital bed.

I still love you. 

Mellifluous

Hot honey-filled tea,

Soothing the ache in your throat,

Calming your temper.

 

Fresh coffee with cream

On an early morning day.

The caffeine raging.

 

The sound her voice makes

When she calls my name at night.

My heart will flutter.

 

A pianist's hands,

Stroking each key right on point

Never missing one.

 

The wind and willow,

Whispering wildly so

Slightly to and fro. 

Of the Night

 I remember those nights 

Underneath bright twilight.

Me wrapped in your arms so tight.

The moments that felt so right.

 

We'd speak of our secrets 

And of our deepest fears,

Shedding the tears

Of our worn souls' years.

 

We'd plant the trust

With seeds of love,

The roots spreading to and fro

To the deepest parts.

 

We'd fall asleep under

Moons' full gaze,

Tangled in the other's arms,

Not caring in the least.

 

Then wake to the sunrise,

A warming light against cool faces.

It changed us, those nights.

But what became of them 

Is now of the night.

The Rain