Tag Archives: poetry

Hope for the Broken Hearted


English: Broken Love Heart bandage
English: Broken Love Heart bandage (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Romantic love…the stuff of books, poems, songs and legend. Why does this topic merit so much attention? What is it about love between two people that generates so much, well…emotion? It’s the thing that many of us search our whole lives trying to obtain, yet it is elusive. It’s the thing that many of us fall into…with no warning or preparation. It’s the thing that poets, artists and musicians try to convey in their works, yet never quite get it right…because love is too big. It is too difficult for us to describe in our finite states. We cannot comprehend love because it isn’t human to love…it is divine.

That desire that we have to be in communion with another…that longing for physical touch and intimacy…that need to be needed…those aren’t accidental. We were designed to desire. We were created to caress. We were made to mate. Literally. It’s in our DNA to procreate, but that’s not all. The ultimate example of love that our Creator bestowed upon us, was not just the desire to make more humans, but the JOY and PLEASURE in doing so. The downside of all that joy and pleasure is heartbreak and pain when the love that we express to someone else is unrecquited.

But there is hope.

I have had my heart broken many times, I’m sad to say. The first time, I literally thought I would die from the pain. So heavy was my heart that I feared ever loving again, because I didn’t think that my little organ could handle the pain of another disappointment. But eventually…I dared to love again. And when that love didn’t last, my heart was again broken, but somehow less so. I hadn’t loved any less. I hadn’t lost any less. But my heart was better prepared and quicker to heal.

I’ve been in love again. Twice actually. I love a friend who can’t return my affections, but strangely, that doesn’t negate the love I have for him. In fact, the way he has handled my feelings…his care and concern for me…has actually made me love him all the more. But because I love him, I will let him go so that he can have what’s best for him.

The second love is a different kind…not as altruistic. It’s more a love of friendship and convenience, but there is still a desire for more. But this man doesn’t love me. He never will. And because I love myself, I will end the relationship. Even though I am choosing to move on, the pain in my heart is still real. I ache for him, and I miss him. I miss the idea of what we could have been and I grieve for the loss, but I know that my heart will heal. I have hope…

Hope that the creator of my heart knows what I need. Hope that the man He has made for me will find me. And hope that my broken heart will be made whole again the next time I love. Because that is the true cure for a broken heart…to take what’s left of your heart, and use it to love again.

A Hue Less Blue


I’m feeling a little bit blue today.

I don’t like it when I feel this way.

No real reason…my life is so good.

But nevertheless, I’m wanting to brood.

I’m thinking ’bout things I wish I had.

And that’s a good recipe for feeling bad.

need to swap out the bitter for something that’s sweet

to change up the gall and conjure a treat.

There’s no use stirring up sadness and strife

When God‘s given me such a beautiful life.

So, rather than focus of things I have not

I’ll concentrate on them that I’ve got.

A loving family and friends galore

a calling to serve and oh, there’s more…

the smell of the ocean, the breeze on my face

the freedom to worship, and God’s loving grace.

A place to call home, in a town that I love

the sunshine, the rain and stars up above.

The way that things smell, the Father’s sweet Love.

A hope for the future…the laughter I’m full of.

And just like that, I’m blue no longer

My feelings of gratitude suddenly stronger

So color me with a hue more contrary

I’m sooo not blue…more like CANARY.

ALWAYS HAVE A FIRE EXTINGUISHER HANDY


So I got a call from an old flame today.  We’re still good friends, so it’s not that unusual to hear from him.  He was in town for the day and he wanted to come over and see my new house.  I have to say that I was happy to show off my new “crib.”  I found myself fussing over the state of the place just a little too much. I wanted to hang up those curtains that I’ve been meaning to get to.  Man, is it this lighting or does my chair and sofa suddenly need a deep cleaning?  I really need to hang up that new shower curtain rod!  How much time do I have?  
What is the deal?  How can an old flame still manage to make me a little hot under the collar? Come to think of it, why did we break it off in the first place? When ever we spend any time together or on the phone, I find myself daydreaming about “What if…” What if we got back together?  What if we had never broken up?  What if I moved closer to him or he moved back here?

Thinking about that old flame makes me think even moreso about the one who still burns white hot in my heart.  He loves euphamisms.  I remember him telling me, as he was rejecting my affections, that “a fire won’t burn if you don’t stoke it.”  That may be so, but it hasn’t held true in my experience.  The heat I feel for him is like magma that floats beneath the earth’s core.  On the surface, there may be little indication of the churning, boiling lava that flows beneath an unyeilding layer of protective rock.  This fiery inferno lies undetected until something breaches the surface, allowing the molten magma to flow freely, encompassing everything in its path.  That’s what is happening to me.

I have developed a crusty exterior that at first glance seems impenetrable, but then if I see someone that I know is a friend of the one I burn for, the heat is turned up again.  No stoking required.  Like a California wildfire, the embers will smolder for days…at the slightest provocation igniting the inferno afresh.  That’s where I am today.  I got a call from one old flame, then I see the friend of the true flame and I am undone.  I have been melancholy and wistful ever since.

What can you do to cool magma?  How can you stop the lava flow beneath the earth’s crust?  How can I stop loving him?  I wish I knew the answer to that.  This reminds me of a poem that I wrote after the last time this happened:

 

I Don’t Know How Not to Love You
 
I don’t know how not to love you
I’ve tried everything I know
To wrest you from my heart and mind
But you just won’t let go

 

Sometimes I think it’s over
Maybe I’ll love anew
It’s then you steal into my dreams
Oh, what’s a girl to do?

You’re fused into my soul, you see
As much as I protest
Trying not to love you
Is futile at the best.

I don’t know how not to love you,
but worse, I wish I could
Remove this battered, broken heart
And exchange it for one of wood

For wooden hearts don’t feel pain
They know not my despair
A piney pump’s indifferent
To your brown-eyed, soulful stare.

I don’t know how not to love you
Or forget your soft, sweet kiss
Oh, curse the memories, damn them all
Return me to ignorant bliss

Before I knew your kindness,
Your friendship, your embrace
Return me to my solitude
And Maybe then I’ll say

 

That I DO know how not to love you
To be deaf to memory’s call
The only way not to love you
Is never to have known you at all.