Union

Union

I say goodbye to sleep
Hear the rain
Gaze at you, before
Bed again!

Eyes opening, staring
At my kiss
Feeling though unthinking
Love is this?

Yet you respond, giving
Everything
Hearts beating and loving
Kissing

Mouths and hands talking
Love and moving
In our delight proving
Our loving

We say hello to night
Day is done
Oblivious to time
We are One

Serenading Lost Love

Hi again Desert Demons. I just wanted to pay tribute to your insights once again on unrequited love. Your observations on the beauty of pain remind of Maud Gonne's attempts to console WB Yeats by her telling him that he should appreciate her influence on his life because the misery she has caused him has inspired his wonderful Nobel-prize winning poetry!
I would like to thank the anonymous Zena for her beautiful contradictions. I presume you are not in the queue to seduce me with your munchausens! You sound really interesting, despite your lack of sympathy. What you dismiss as "morbid wallowing in self pity poetry" could be seen from another perspective as honest poetry from the heart of a man who refuses to take refuge in lies. I would be deceiving myself if I said that the love of my life was not worth my love and admiration. I would be untrue to myself if I said that she is just one of a billion females. It would be easy to deceive others. I do it every day. It is impossible to deceive myself. Acknowledging my pain takes courage. It is not wallowing in self pity. It is being brave enough to know that I suffer and it is insightful to know why I suffer and it is prophetic enough to know that I will suffer until I draw my last breath. That's purity of love, not self pity. As you said, it's how I handle the hurt that matters. I handle it by acknowledging its eternal presence in my heart and soul. I make no apologies for not taking the usual macho attitude of there are thousands of better women out there. I met the woman who was best for me and I will never change my opinion. Burning the teeshirt will not eliminate her influence on my life. I don't want your pity, Zena or anybody's pity. I know your advice is very practical but I don't have the power to decide when the pain ends. It's not going to end. Some people meet the love of their life and stay with them for ever. Some people meet the love of their lives and stay with them for a short while. Some people never meet the love of their lives. I am in the second category, luckier than those in the third category, not as fortunate as those in the first.
I have faith in myself but I am not very pleased by "the powers that be". And loving her and respecting her decision are totally unconnected. Respecting a decision doesn't mean I agree with it. It's just that. A decision. A fait accompli. I have missed out on the most wonderful woman I have ever met and there's nothing I can do about it. I missed the boat and I will never be happy. She wasn't a tee shirt that I could burn in a smug self satisfying exorcistic narcissistic liberating bunny boiling ritual. She was the most special person in the universe and there's no getting over her. That's not self pity. That's honesty from my heart.
To Desert Demon: I have moved on but there is no overcoming the pain. C'est la vie. C'est l'amour.
My howling is not a morbid self pitying scream but my serenade for my lost love.
Thank you all, especially Zena, for your efforts to console but there is no consolation. Even though the loss of my love is not funny I really enjoyed your comments, Zena. You sound like great fun. Thanks!
Serenading Lamb

The perfect poem

Ever since we separated,
Habibthi

I have tried to stay sane
By looking for
Reminders of you
In every book I read

Every beautiful girl,
Habibthi
Every unavailable woman
Every femme fatale
Was you,

Habibthi

Every strand of hair described
Every captivating smile
Every bare shoulder
Every slender body
Every full bosom
Every long limb
Every fluttering eyelash
Every doe-eyed beauty
Every seductive giggle
Every passionate caress
Every moan of pleasure
Every scream of release
Every lover intertwined

Reminded me of you,

Habibthi

But I never found
All of you,

Habibthi

In any one book
Or in any one poem

No matter how many
Books I bought
No matter how many
Poems I read

I only got tantalising glimpses
Of your unique beauty,

Habibthi

So
In frustration
I stopped reading and
I stopped searching
For the perfect poem

Because I realised,

Habibthi
That I would never
Find the perfect poem
In any book

Because the perfect poem
Was

You



Habibthi



Lamb.

Houri Homage

My words to you as yours to me
to hear you
to know you are there
to reply
are like bare feet adorned with anklet bells
running to receive the other
through cobbled paths
and secret passageways

Celebration

Celebration

As I lie in the dark
gazing at the ceiling
Of my hotel room
I think of the city
That never sleeps
And I wonder why
I can never sleep
In my treasured city
The city that you
Transformed to
El Dorado with
The beauty of your presence

Once again I yield
To the temptation
Of the tablet
Because I know
My memories are stronger
Than my need to rest

I lie in the silence of the room
That is empty of you
And I listen to the buzz
Of the traffic
As excited lovers
Rush to their rendezvous

I can hear the heartbeats
I can see the flush in their faces
I can hear the nervous laughter
As the girls decide
How many buttons
To leave undone

I can see the men
Caress that extra drop
Of aftershave
Just in case it makes
A difference

I can see their beaming smiles
When their favourite name
Illuminates their cell phone

I can see their walk of delight
As they saunter to their car
They are delirious with anticipation
Because they have found
The meaning of life

They don't need a church or a bible
They don't need a politician or preacher
They have the one they want
The one they want to be with
The one they laugh with
The one they dance with
The one that makes them sing
The reason to live
They don't need God
Because they are God
To each other

They give each other
Everything
They know what the other
Needs
They make their own heaven
By being together

I can see them gaze
At each other
As each acknowledges
The consideration given
To the other
By the choice of clothes
A bracelet
The wearing of
A precious gift

I can see them
Rush into each others arms
As if they had been absent
For a lifetime

I can see their eyes sparkle
As they tease each other
I can see them hold hands
I can see her head on his shoulder

And after the evening together
I can see the look in their eyes
As they prepare for the
Rapture of their union

I can hear their kisses
I can feel their caresses
I listen to the
Symphony of their bodies
As they celebrate each other

While I lie alone in the darkness
In the silence of a hotel room
Unable to celebrate you

Gut feeling

Gut Feeling

I had slept on the uncomfortable folding bed
in the sitting room
while you as our guest of honour had been assigned
my room which was more suitable
for such a unique guest

I found it hard to sleep on the folding bed
not just because of the lack of space
nor the uncomfortable base
but also because of the excitement
of having you comfortable and cosy
in my bed, in my room, in my house

I wanted to be there with you
To talk to you, to chat about anything
That might interest you
Maybe even just to hold you
In my arms as you slept
As I gazed at the most precious person
I Ididn’t know I was soon to lose

forever



Howling Lamb