Random Poetry - Valentine's Day edition

In my youth I knew beauty.

In my youth I knew love.

In my youth I knew strangers and victims and the power of undecided lust.

At my beginning I wanted skin.

At my start I needed sin.

At the emergence of it all I wanted closure.

All of this is silly. All of this is kin. All of this is trying. All of this is whinging.

In my fullness I know so much that is beautiful.

In the stretch I know more than lustful thoughts.

In the shadows I know secrets truths and undiscovered loves.

At the end I wanted closeness.

At the end I wanted touch.

At the end I wanted restfulness and the beauty of your rust.

Random poetry - Thursday night edition

The eyes always know,
except when don't.

Life is like that.

It is a paradox,
except when it isn't.

The truth. The real you emerges:

in pain;
in sadness;
in happiness;
in triumph.

The truth is hard to capture.

The truth is hard to see.

The eyes sometimes know,
except when they do.

When

I was asked by a friend when I would stop letting my children come to me for comfort.

I thought long and answered honestly:

When?

When they stop asking.

When?

When the need goes away.

When?

When the strength falls from my arms to hug and cuddle and grasp.

When?

When my breath fails.

When?

Until the very end.

When?

Until the present becomes the past and past becomes the future and all time is wrapped in the eternal present of a parent's death.

When?

Until I hold them enough, until I cuddle them enough, until I snuggle them enough until I am with them forever.

When?

Until the end, and beyond.

When?

Always