BLEEDING LOVE

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BLEEDING LOVE

Somebody wrote me, 
It was in response to a YouTube video; 
He commented upon an up-load, 
One where I read some love lyrics of mine.

The writer said that a man my age should be content --
Say with a garden or maybe a grandchild or two;
He claimed that romance is 
A wild and an often fruitless labor,
Hardly worth the effort,
No matter how old the pursuer, 
Though at least youth has energy in its favor.

Then he laughingly added,
“No fool like the fool whose fate it is, 
Stuck in the rut of heart-ache verse.”  

Yeah! Sure, OK, but grant me my own life, and frankly
What do I care how purveyors of joylessness think?

My first thought here cries, get lost! Beat it!
Mister! Hey! Get a grip!  Anyways,

I thank the commentator for his time, 
Then I consider his remarks for a bit. 
Still I must insist, no fear, no worry of rebuke, 
That I am not troubled, and still do boldly proclaim,

I keep bleeding, bleeding in love.


I take delight, 
Announce that more command of word,
More love’s vocabulary resides within my little finger,
Than occupies all the many heads,
Which march in the armies of negativity!

I keep bleeding, bleeding in love.

Once Son of Man lost life.
And when He rising from the dead, 
He fulfilled the Holy Writ and dies no more.
And we ourselves after Resurrection,
Shall be ‘Ever with the Lord.’
Remember the promise, we who love, 
Not necessarily wisely, but well,
We who give ourselves to the commandment,
Love, love, love.
Yes, that was the Word,
Today we shall be with Him in heaven.

I keep bleeding, keep bleeding in love.                                                                                                                                       

KNOCK OUT

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KNOCK OUT




Describing the awful upset, the melancholy,
The force which has struck me so hard
That I have seemingly become unconscious
And have lost all capacity for right direction,
Has me contradicting every principle of sacred philosophy.

I am forced to postulate the existence of a physical soul.

Your absence, the thought of your
No longer being part of my life, has floored my spirit.

I fear that my vitality has been stopped.
My training in prayer has failed me.
I lack the muscle strength and the great breath,
Despite my belief in the audacity to hope,
I want the stamina to continue the match.

I have been hit, and I am down.
I bleed, darling, I bleed.
I struggle to my feet, I stand just before the ten-count.

Your blow has opened a cut above my eye.
What salve, what ointment staunches the blood!
The men in my corner struggle to fix it.

They will not let me face another round.

The bell keeps clanging,
I hear the terrible roar of the crowd.

The referee enters center ring. I have lost the fight.