Archive for reality

Blame the hopeless romantic

Posted in art, artist, creative, creative writer, creative writing, original, poetry of the day, poets, prose, writer, writing with tags , , , on March 9, 2015 by unsensible

As a young man, I loved love
and the idea of love
everything about the ideal love
and the humming, golden idol of love
so I did everything in my power to avoid its reality.

If only I was a conniving, greedy bastard.
If only I’d wanted to use women for their bodies,
Or their money, if I’d only wanted money,
Or their time, if only I’d wanted to waste their time which is more precious still.

If only I’d developed a heroin addiction,
I could have woken up 5 years later,
With everyone gone, $60,000 wasted,
No sense of who I was or where I was meant to go.
I could have spared so many so much heartache.

15 years later and a half million dollars poorer,
I know no finer addiction.

Romeo is a joke, folks.
Read it again and you’ll see what I mean.

Love, birth, and war are bloody affairs.
It takes TV to make it antiseptic.
Till you lose everything on a hit,
you have no business hustling with the professionals.

Love is waking up at 6 a.m. after a night of crying
It’s so cold the linoleum hurts and so dark you think your gods have abandoned you
on an early February morning.
You still do the dishes in the sink
Pick up the broken pieces of crockery
And make her a cup of coffee.
Because you do, that’s why.
And because there’s no one you’d rather talk to,
even when she’s not there and you can’t remember having anything to say.

And because you’re sick of your own shit.
That’s when it’s worth it.
If a starry-eyed poet tells you otherwise,
turn around and run.
Or, better still, break his nose.

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