And then I woke up. Head on the table, the taste of bourbon on my lips. The empty bottle on its side as a pool of its insides gather at my mouth.
Oh Layla. It was a dream. You are so far away from me. Across hills, time, water, air, masses of bickering warring fools. Behind walls and cloths, you sit. So far from me.
Oh Layla. Time is catching up with us. The year’s fly, the hands on the clock spin and whirl as if spun carelessly. Soon there will be no more time. Soon old age will ravage us and take the vintage wine of life and wanderlust from us. Like a sickly transfusion. Leaving us skeletal. Barren. The wine of life replaced by spittle and drool.
Oh Layla. Yesternow. When youth and possibility was all in front of us. Its legs spread wide with golden promises and milk and honey poured from it. Does life really die from us so soon? Before physical death we have a death of soul? Of spirit? Our skin turns to wax and bones brittle. Our souls die a little each day. You cannot stop this. But what to do? How do you stop time? How do you keep soul crushing old age at bay?
Layla. It's you and me. We must defy time and the ever-creeping approach of foretold old age. Fuck it! Let's run Layla, you and me, we shall elude it at all turns. We will trick and fool and deceive. All our days we will not let old age and time and their horrible perversion tear us apart.
Layla. My heart and dying soul are yours. Nothing shall tear me from you. Nothing shall diminish my affections. My heartbeats for you. Every beat, ever pulse of blood is for you. God, if God even exists, could not make me stop desiring you. Wanting you, driven blind and gnarled with passion for you. It's all I live for.
To see you smile. To watch you blink. To hear your inhale and exhale sighs, life's symphony. To see you brush the waves of long curls from your face. To know your soul in all its complexity and joys and rages and loves. To know the touch of your skin. To know each and every reaction at every touch. A map of your zones of pleasure, stimulation and orgasmic penetration.
Layla. I am nothing. A worm in your garden. I am awkward. In every way. I'm to tall. Misshapen. I have onset of scoliosis. I sweat too much. I close my eyes when I talk. I eat too much. Swear too much. I have no real skills. I'm not smart enough. I try to say the right things and do what is best.
Oh Layla. I'm a mess. You could do better. I'm a loser. But this loser would cross hell and back, get skinned and flayed and suffer all torments, humiliations and subterfuge if it meant holding your soft hand and hearing a kind word pass your lips.
Layla. I'm hopeless. But you give me hope. You cast light into the darkness. Part the seas that would drown me and suck out the venom that would consume my heart and soul with death.
Your grace. Your soul. Your love is eternal. And it saves me time and time again from madness and despair. I am yours, my dear. I am yours even if you do not want me. I will wait for you. Even if it is forever and the cobwebs and moss gather on me. My vigil will be steadfast and true. For I have nothing else. You are a treasure worth the wait. Worth the searching and loneliness. Worth the unknown and mocking phantoms.
You are my sun and moon and stars in the heavens. The world I live and sleep and tread upon.
I will remain true.
-
Author:
John Thomas (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 25th, 2016 01:06
- Comment from author about the poem: \\\"The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death.\\\" - Oscar Wilde.\r\n\r\n\r\nPart 2 of the Layla trilogy. The morning after. Distance and tears at dawn.
- Category: Love
- Views: 66
Offline)
Comments4
THANKS JOHN ~Poets don't always deliver PART 2 ! We have moved from PASSION to PATHOS beautifully illustrated in the visual ! STANZA 2. A dream S3. Time is ruuuuuuuuning out ! S4. Wide spread thighs and taste of love honey S5. Can we stop time ? I think not ! S6. Blissful hope ~ nothing shall disappoint S7. Memories of time past ~ smiles ~ curls ~ touch ~ orgasmic penetration ! (visions of part 1) S8. Reality ~ misshapen ~ scoliotis ~ no real skills S9. A mess ~ a loser ~ a hope ? S10. Grace ~ soul ~ hope springs eternal S11. Celestial engagement (senility ?) Sun ~ Moon ~ Stars I WILL REMAIN TRUE ! Mission unaccomplished ? Thanks for sharing ~ BRIAN
Brian,
Thank you for the kind words. It is a more subdue and less steamy piece, but I think it attempts deeper questions of what being in love is.
Is it ever fulfilled? Is it at its best when it's unrequited? Does reality ever live up to the fantasy?
The final part will go up tomorrow. It's been interesting looking back on these writings again before I post them. I'm glad folks seem to respond to them.
Cheers Brian!
Wonderful write
Thanks Tony!!
Welcome
2nd Day of Eric Clapton Trilogy:
1. Name the painting .
2. In case You've missed it,Write it Down :
"Most times Life is Sad and Love is a Trespasser" (E.P.2016)
emile theodore frandsen de schomberg is the painter of the piece. He painted the album cover to the Layla album. I loved that cover and wanted to see where it came from. I could not find a title to the painting I posted.
E.C's album is a big influence, esp at the time I was writing the trilogy.
All that passion and pain and ferocity in one album... Incredible.
1. TYPOS? "there horrible perversion tear us apart." - 'I'm to tall."
2. Thanks for 'The Painter'. I cannot find 'The Title',but I remembered these lines suitable for this painting:
"Great is the similarity between
These two fair figures, although one appears
Much paler than the other, far more calm..."
Anyone who finishes his piece of Writing with 'The Promise/Claim'
" I will remain true"
He is NOT to be taken Seriously...
Because I am off to Crete for a wedding,
Decide if you want to pose as 'The Whisper of History' or 'The Noise of Time'.
And if you ever go to Crete, remember to visit the new museum in Ancient Eleutherna, placed at the foot of Mt Ida.
Enjoy the weekend... 🎆🎇🎉🎊
I'm usually good about catching typos.... I'm embarrassed. I will do better going forward. Thanks for keeping my honest 😉
As far as not being taken seriously, why not end it that way. It's bold. It's declarative. And yes... I could be full of it...... But you'll never know.
A whisper or a noise...... It's a damn good question. I must think about that.
Enjoy Crete and the wedding! I'd love to go there someday.
Lysistrata is a troll and on the contrary, should not be taken seriously. He likes to make himself feel superior by trying to pick out technical flaws in other's writing. I thought it was awesome, next level writing. Your descriptions are reckless and very honest. Nice!
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