When that person called you up
at odd times with desire to speak,
you were busy then having fun
with persons you admired,
with those who filled your days
with fun and laughter,
make your hours shrink
into enchanting seconds…..
That one call used to bring a break,
little lull in those ecstatic moments.
You some times pick up the phone
and gave some polite excuse to him.
Some times you just used to let it ring
and later give him some half hearted alibi..
Then one day your butterflies
flew away to other pastures,
Leaving behind only shadows of
sweet memories and empty hours,
you turned around to search
for that person who has pestered…
All you could see was a shadow
disappearing in distant horizon,
Love came, knocked your door,
waited for you and departed rejected,
When you were busy chasing butterflies
the flower of your life withered
wild wind blows free
13 years ago
2 comments:
I wanted to thank you very much for your comments, I apologize if I am so long getting back to them and that I also owe you an apology because I really am a terrible commenter and even a wrorse reader because of my eyesight.
Mine is a long story, I pretty much retired from presenting my work publicly until about a year ago. I was on a poetry post and was on over 800 peoples favorites, people say they want comments, they do not know what they ask for. I was getting close to 900 comments on everything I wrote. It was maddening.
Eventually I left the site, the administer was more than happy to see me go, I had more control over the site than he did.
I had three friends abducted off that site, two were raped and one died. And I wanted to burn that place to the ground, and everyone thought I was this hero because I had so much power over the administrator and I held his feet to the fire on these incidents that he did not police his own community.
It was sad. The last thing I wrote before I left was.
I never knew
I could touch so many peoples hearts.
I never meant
To let so many people down.
I never thought
I could be lonelier than I already was.
I went to myspace and hit in the crowd. I went through 9 profiles because they kept stripping my poetry off my page until I finally came to Blogger. Its peacerful here.
I have since started porting work to WordPress becuse I think it looks more professional.
You talk about my images. Trust me, I get more reads than I deserve and a lot of that s based on the explicit honesty of my presentation of my poetry. I average about 800 - 1000 hits a day. It doesnt matter if people comment to me, I have been down that road. It matters to me that people read them is all.
and I stll don't consider myself a poet even after 10 years of doing this. I was only out to touch one persons heart and I accomplished more than i set out to do.
I feel an urgency to port my posts, my eyesight is not going to last very much longer.
Do not sell yourself short on your writing, you write very well. Maybe I make it look easy I dont know. I don't try to write, I dont work at it. The words just find me and they come out of me the way they do based on what I have read in the past and how a few other poets styles have affected me.
But there is no money in writing poetry, personally I consider it emotional mashochism.
But I have a gift.
And if I can imortalize myself in peoples hearts with what few words I have then I know I will live on in that sense. I have no faimly, no wife, no children and have spent the last year living in a garage because everyone abandoned me when I filed for my disability. I spent the entire winter here doing nothing but writing poetry.
Perhaps I am paying my dues.
I've worked hard all my life, and this is how it will probably end for me.
I am one rung above homelessness.
and all i can think about is porting my work to wordpress before that happens.
so i thank you, for your support. and i hope that when i am gone you will remember me.
hugs.
dear charles,
Read your painful letter in my blog. Is there someway i can help? If yes, please let me know.
You just cant let yourself get defeated like that.
Please come out of this hell, and let me know how can i help you.
God be with you,
trisha
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