Mellifluous Musings
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If You Would Like To Leave Me A Personal Message
Posted:Oct 10, 2015 4:05 pm
Last Updated:Jul 20, 2018 2:28 pm

"It's Personal."

If you have something you would like to tell or ask me, why not post a comment here? This thread is set for me to review comments before they appear. They're just between you and me. Well I might read them out loud and they could be overheard by my pets.

I would love if you would comment on my blog posts of course. But if you just want to leave a quick message about any and everything, please feel free...

I recommend everyone have a blog so that others can contact them.

Have a great day!

3 Comments , 60 Pending
Explaining My Poetry Style
Posted:Mar 14, 2018 9:39 pm
Last Updated:May 27, 2018 8:06 am

Critical Poetry Thoughts

Someone criticized my poetry,
He said he could not understand it
He said that it did not make sense
He said that it is kind of juvenile
As I make it like a conversation.

Oh really well let me tell you what I really think!
I don't really know why I write poetry this way.
I just began and it is hard to change.

This person suggested I need to add description
That I had to add visuals
That I had to describe the senses
That I had to let people feel for themselves
And not tell them only how I feel.

But like a zebra
If I were to be covered in white paint
Eventually the stripes would reappear
As the paint would fade.

Nature has many an animal that has spots
Supposedly they cannot change them
Should I count myself in their kingdom?
But I have many more facets as I am a human.

Oh then there is that lizard
Made famous by Boy George and Culture Club,
Come on and sing it!
I know you want to!
quot;Karma, Karma, Karma, Karma, Chameleon".
Its skin changes with its surroundings.
Oh were I that adaptable!
Perhaps some day I will be.

But now that I have vented,
Now that my pot has gone from boiling to simmering,
I will just tell myself in a soft whisper.
It is all good.
It is actually constructive criticism.
It is just an added piece of wisdom
To which I can pick at as I please.

I may one day write a poem with just imagery.
I may one day write a poem that does not voice,
the way I speak,
I may one day write a poem that does not rhyme at all.
Who would I be then?
Would I still be me?
Oh seriously,
I am not that dense
I am just going through the motions
Until this poem ends.
Delayed And Hollow Promises. A Poem
Posted:Jul 21, 2018 11:03 pm
Last Updated:Jul 22, 2018 12:30 pm

I thought there was hope
That what he once promised
Would come true
But now that hope has sunk
I will spare you
The boat reference.
Oops too late.
Since it's been said.

I am honest with myself
I wanted the help
He once mentioned
The projects he would do
Fixing my blinds
And putting together
Some exercise equipment.
Not to mention some stuff
That my car needed.

As much as I reached out
And he made a plan
Which he then broke
The other things
That he talked about doing
Camping and sailing
How I longed for adventure
His reneging time
And time again
Is not worth the anxiety
And aggravation.

So now I see little benefit
In even keeping
Up communicating.
His sporadic replies
Of how he is still interested
How he still wants me again
They are hollow promises.
That I should move on from.
Which is getting easier
With each passing day.

At this point I am
Going to pay
A mechanic and
A handyman
To do the projects
He had said
To him would be
A piece of cake.
Although I hate to spend
My money on such things
When I need a new computer
As mine just died.
The camping and sailing
Will have to also wait.
Delay, delay, delay
Is a sad refrain
That just means
I am denied.
Well ain't that
The story of my life.
What's Stimulating. A Poem
Posted:Jul 21, 2018 2:46 pm
Last Updated:Jul 23, 2018 7:52 am

Hats off to the raciest
How fast will they go?
I must have a look-see
I must check it out.

Granted it's stimulating.
Granted it's arousing.
Does it come down to
If you've seen one
You've seen them all?
Folks are betting on
The answer to be no.

When looking no longer
Is found interesting
What should one do then?
Stimulate another part
Of one's body
Perhaps one's head?

There it is!
Eureka! A solution!
The sapiosexual needs
Stimulating conversation
Not sure there is
A singular subject.
Let's hope one
Is discovered
Before there are
Too many cobwebs.
1 comment
If A Friend Needs A Break. A Poem
Posted:Jul 21, 2018 10:57 am
Last Updated:Jul 21, 2018 2:36 pm

We are just friends
That is all
We will ever be
As we live
Quite the distance.
Besides which
You are married
And you have qualms
About infidelity.
Which in my mind
Your indecision
Is a good thing.

But you have been
Stung by a kind of bee
The kind that makes
You want to leave.
As you see nothing
To gain by staying
You have lost interest
In this website.
It's become
Rather boring.

The truth is
We have all had
This itch.
Some days
More so
Than others.

I know what I want
But I can only hint
As admitting it
Would cross me
Off many a list.

I stay for the chats
Whether rated G or X
I have friends on here
Who seem to care.
They commiserate
And we share
Things "normal" folks
Wouldn't dare.

So my friend
Perhaps you do
Need a break.
It's summer after all.
Enjoy yourself
But I would love
If you check in
Now and then.
Let me know
How you are doing.

You have lent me
Your ears on many
An occasion.
I hope you will someday
Let me return the favor.
1 comment
Acknowledgement. A Poem
Posted:Jul 19, 2018 6:51 pm
Last Updated:Jul 21, 2018 11:17 am

I gave you a gift
Most people would cherish
Like Paul McCartney
Gave Linda Eastman
Although some could think
It was like Taylor Swift
And one of her liasons.
Rather more of a diss.

No word from you
Which confirms
What I thought I knew
You have little depth
Indeed you are shallow
As much as you professed
The opposite.
As much as you said
And believed
You were an empath.

I know I am different
It's not that I am
The only one who
Feels things deeply
It is that I write about them.
I could bottle everything up
Put a cork in it
Which believe me
I have done.
But this is my one life
And without reflection
It would be like
I was an automaton.

So I write my thoughts
And feelings
And sometimes
I share them.
It would be nice
If sometime
From you
They would get
A warm reception
Or even just
The Parts Of You That Harbor Compassion. A Poem
Posted:Jul 19, 2018 2:33 pm
Last Updated:Jul 21, 2018 11:15 am

He said he wouldn't touch me
With a ten foot pole
He could see how fragile I was
He meant it sincerely
He wasn't trying to be mean
Or hurtful or cruel
He just knew that I had
A hole inside of me
That was a wound
He didn't want to make larger
Or figuratively rub salt in it.

Some would walk away
With nary a glance
Some would ask
If I was okay.

What should I say?
I will be
In the meantime
I could use a friend.
Are you a good Samaritan?

The ten foot pole
Euphemism aside
I am a human being
That is worthwhile.

The man who can see that
My wounds can heal
My heart has appeal
The man who can treat me
Like he would himself
Like to be treated
Instead of cast off
Or thrown aside
Is he extraordinary
Or rare
Or both?
Does he actually exist?

To tell you the truth
Most men can keep
Their effing ten feet poles.
Their poles made me
The mess I am.
I know
I know
It takes two to tango.
I was a participant
With blinders on
To the man's intentions.
I was lied to
Again and again.
I could have stopped
My participation
Before he did.

Did you get that?
I was a sucker
Til the end.
That is what
Really keeps
The wound fresh
How incredibly naive
And stupid I was
To begin with
And even when I caught on
I thought the man
Could change.
But by then
He had formed his opinion
My treatment cemented
In his mind
I believed and accepted
His lies and scraps
From that
There is no coming back
Once a doormat.

My friend
Good Samaritan
Thank you for listening.
You may keep
Your ten foot pole.
It is your ears
I am interested in
Along with the parts of you
That harbor your compassion.
Like Emily Dickinson. A Poem
Posted:Jul 18, 2018 12:36 am
Last Updated:Jul 20, 2018 12:14 pm

He thinks me like
Emily Dickinson
A lonely lovesick spinster
Whose life was very limited.

In today's day and age
With all our social media
Should I not be connected
Plugged in to some
Greater network?

I am for all the good
It does me.
There is still a void
Inside of me.
A longing for
A singular connection
Of love and passion.

This longing that evokes
The life and character
Of Emily Dickinson
Coupled with my
Poetry of course.
I guess it could be worse
I could lack the quality
That is so poignant
I could be just like
Everyone else.

There in is the quandary
Does everyone else
Have what my heart
Of heart seeks?
Love and passion
And a family?
Would I shed
The Emily Dickinson reference
If I could just attain
Some semblance of normalcy?
Life Has Passed Me By. A Poem
Posted:Jul 18, 2018 12:09 am
Last Updated:Jul 20, 2018 2:35 pm

Life has passed me by
So much that I could cry
In the middle of the night
The tears may fall
I dare not sob
For my breath
Could get caught.
And I could
Very well suffocate.

How ugly I must look
Luckily I only have
The company
Of my little dog.
He does not judge
In fact he offers comfort.

And I sigh
If only my life
Had more comfort of
The human kind.
If only one love
Had been reciprocated
I would not be
In this predicament.
Thinking of all
The time I lost
Without a love interest.

If only I was made
Of stronger stuff
That cared not
That I was all alone
And without love.
Continued Actions And Reassuring Words. A Poem
Posted:Jul 17, 2018 9:19 am
Last Updated:Jul 18, 2018 12:12 am

You say you want me tonight.
That thought does arouse
But I have an emptiness
As I wonder if when you leave
You will want me again.

I would try
Yes I would try mightily
To squash my anxiety
While we were together
I would let my
Sensuality take over
Let my body
Revel in the moment.

Disappointment has been
Almost constant
From past lovers.
It's caused this hole
That is aching for
A special man to fill.
Just to let me know
That I was appreciated
That I deserved an encore
Make that encores galore.
Yes, a special man
Can ease my mind
With his continued actions
Along with reassuring words.
1 comment
What We Seek A Poem
Posted:Jul 16, 2018 3:09 pm
Last Updated:Jul 17, 2018 12:55 pm

Sweet are the lips I seek
Strong are the arms
That I wish to enfold me
Hands at times strong
At other times gentle
That caress me with patience
And alternatively with urgency
As our moods progress.

Starting with a touch
From hands that seem
To contain magic
So adept are they
To go from hard
To soft.

Adding kisses
At the moment
Almost scripted
From Hollywood
But it is just
His great Instinct.
To know their presence
Is what I am craving.

It won't end here
Now will it?
That would be a shame
Dare I say tragic?
Not to seek
The ultimate fulfillment
Now that we are both
So turned on
So aroused
So ready and willing.
A Man From Long Ago. A Poem
Posted:Jul 16, 2018 9:05 am
Last Updated:Jul 23, 2018 8:33 am

Have you shown me your heart?
Your empathy and compassion?
Please let it not be for show.
A facade to just get close.

I remember an episode.
My first lover
How he spoke with
Such care and understanding.
How he even cried
In front of me.
I thought to myself
He was kind and caring
So I let my guard down.

He was recently broken up
From some out of state girlfriend.
I thought he was available.
I thought he could be the one
We each had our demons
We could join forces
And together
We could fight them.

We had wonderful conversations
Such cerebral stimulation
He was cute
With his slightly upturned nose.
With lips that almost always
Seemed arranged in a smile
They looked like kisses
Were made for them.
Were mine the perfect fit?
That was my thought.

I was 21
He had just turned 27
On April 4th.
Yes that day has significance.
Double sailboats
Portending not a very good hand.
He was a twin
To a sister.
She was so much more
Put together
Like his other ones.
He the only boy
So he was spoiled.
Throughout his life
All his troubles
All his scrapes
Were dealt with
Fixed as best as possible
Little scarring to show
Until he lost
Too much control.
That with the help
Of alcohol.
Then it was rehab
Or he would
Lose it all.

He went to AA religiously
Although he followed
No religion.
He was an atheist
Having learned too much
About life's absurdities
And existentialism.

His higher power
I can't recall
What he thought
About that
Except that he
Knew it was mostly
A day job.
Oh yes, he said God
Was an anacronym
For good orderly direction.

One day at a time
Dealing with cravings
Dealing with negativity
Not beating himself up
For his failings.
The serenity prayer
Coming in handy
Again and again.

Where did I fit in?
I cringe now thinking
How freaking naive I was
I was to be
His first virgin.
Something he could reminisce
Perhaps recall fondly
The girl whose
High heel shoes
From our first date
He bought
As a keepsake.

When he told me
He didn't want to
See me anymore
That he was going
Back to the out of state girlfriend
I slapped him
Across the face
And said
What were the tears for?
The tears he shed
That made me think
He was human
And not a monster.

He seemed to think
The slap was befitting
For he apologized
For treating me so bad.

We sat in his living room
Rocking chairs
Sparsely furnished
By design
For he had millions
In a trust fund
That he lived off of
He explained about the ex
How she needed him.
I was in shock
Here I thought
I found the love
Of my life
But he just
Thought of me
As a lark.

I was glad for
The rocking chairs
It had a calming effect
He had to give me
A ride home
To my dorm on campus.

On the way there
He played Diana Ross
And the Supremes
Ain't No Mountain High Enough
He was fond of the group
And joked he wish
He had a chorus
Who followed him
And backed him up.

It's been a while since
Went into such detail
Of this farce.
How I realize
It's par for the course
My life one episode
Of getting close
After another
Just to suffer rejection
And heartache
Not long after.

I know I am not the only one.
I know there are many
In this lonely and
Broken hearted club.
We have stories
Many chapters
If I meet you there
Will you show me
Actual kindness
Or will it be for show
Like this man from long ago?
He Resembles Clark Kent. A Poem
Posted:Jul 15, 2018 10:46 pm
Last Updated:Jul 16, 2018 9:20 am

I feel for him
But it's been
So far light hearted
We have had some
Deep conversations
About taking care
Of our parents.
In my case
A past endeavor
In his,
Still on going.

He has shared
Some insecurities with me
He is not Superman
Although I joke
That with his glasses
He resembles Clark Kent.
Truly, he
And Christopher Reeves
Could have been related.

I enjoy our banter
I enjoy the glimpses
Of his life he gives
But still
I think he could be
A player
With many women
Like me stacked up
Waiting for a meet
That might never happen.
Stringing us all along.

The time that passes
I will be real
And kind
And affectionate
For if the part
Of his life
About being a caretaker
Is the truth
I would be heartless
To withhold
My compassion.
It's how I would want
To be treated
In similar circumstances.

I think of how
Our lives could mesh
How I could easily
Fall in love
Spend the rest
Of my life with him.
Looking at his face
Like Christopher Reeves
Like Clark Kent.
Trying to make him happy
In the best way I can.

I think of that
And then I pull back.
Knowing it takes
Two to tango
I don't know his heart
Where I am concerned.
Like I said before
He could have many women
He could be a player
I could be just one
That he chats with
We could all provide
Empathy and compassion
And at other times
I am a fool
To become so invested
Without any reciprocation.

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