Jealousy-Love

Love entangles us all in this web of jealousy sometimes that I can’t help think that perhaps this is one of the elements of love. How to build trust in essence is how to get over this vice quick enough that we get on with the business of love. At least that’s what I arrived at tonight. It exists, this emotion- this vice, whatever it is, jealousy is much a part of who we are. Only those who are refined and secured at best can escape this feeling, but I’m at the bottom of the pole when it comes to love and there are plenty of things that I need to learn still. The construct of this poem… it’s just a play on jealousy.

why not this jealousy
plucked from me instead
of love? this behemoth
inside that wants to revel
in the night for all nudity
to see the transparency
and the want, the not-
love disguised as love
inside your palm
where you have me
consume time and time
again how much power
you have over me to
taunt and tease between
spaces of want and
not want, in thought
and memory to commit
and destroy at the
same time; the frolicsome
desire to attach to
anybody but myself
infuriates my jealousy
even more and knowing
so inflates my heart with
hope that while I’m breaking–
you’ll want me even more

-mr gahon 12/13/14


Love Gone Awry

I don’t have the words… why would I? I can only stand by with compassion, sympathize. Because there are no proper words for heartbreak. There are no words for love going awry. And if one were to ask me the reasons, I don’t think I have answers because even though love can be all embracing, it can also be blind. There are many metaphors that could spell out how love can suddenly take its turn for the worst, but nothing can ever take the place of pain that someone may feel. Because there is always some sort of hurt, some sort of breaking occurring on the other side, in these words, I can only encourage healing with strength.

am I completely shadow?
blackened and burned,
indistinguishable from
this hearty flame suspect
(you started)?
am I no longer to feel
as you have crumpled and
thrown this heart to
shame in this fetid basket?
do you not see? do you
not feel how much this
heart stands, beckons
the blood in you come
forth and extinguish
yourself this very fire
you ignited; blow off
the flicker from this
candle for in this light–
I no longer wish
to see you

-mr gahon 12/7/14


My Own Jealousy

Every thought is you. Therefore, every thought is a jealous thought, every word, every breath, every drop of water in the ocean. As lost as this heart is, could it ever be removed from the thought of you. To free myself, I had to write about you… my own jealousy.

everything entirely
the origin of my heart
who makes me blue
at the slightest tug
of my arm, my jealousy
weighs me down (even
if I know that you
are mine)

indistinguishable through
this fog, my love
is a ghost lingering afar
as oceans will allow
me to hover over
what’s left of this
yearning, what’s left
of my craft upon my
hands, I dissolve into
the water only knowing
that on the surface
above is you

© mr gahon 11/30/14


Towards Sin

Nothing else but this… deliver me.

as earnest as the moon
upon the sky, I
deliver you from my
innermost thoughts unto
this red carpeted paper
fitted with words to enhance
what I try so hard
to create with these hands:
upon your cheek, behind
your hair, imagining
each tousled inch as
the sun upon the horizon,
as sky and moon
upon its shoulder–
of everything that I
can be within the parameters
of your distinct vision,
I shall always want to
touch you even from a distance
(hoping miles collapses into
inches) it is your nearness
I am always wanting, as
though (you are) sin itself
to be delivered towards

-mr gahon 11/15/14


Jealousy

My jealousy… I didn’t know I would be capable of such jealousy until I met you. Wide eyes whose opulent light outshines even my own strived-for kindness. No doubt, there is an attraction… I just find my intentions misplaced most times lately.

forgive me my jealousies,
pardon my every attempt
to examine your thread marks,
trace your origins from
the evening last; forgive
me this paranoia, this
ever relentless consumption
to know where you’ve been,
who you’ve been with– I
don’t know any better how
to love, how to love you
any better…

© mr gahon 11/18/14


At the Cemetery

We part ways for one reason or another. Arguments, the potential destruction of a relationship… do we choose to survive or sink with the burden, the heft of its anchor drowning us further down? Which is the better choice and would it make me a coward having chosen the way that I’ve done, surviving us and writing about it?

we meet at the cemetery,
no lights but our own shadows
guide us to our graves.
i am faced with mortality
each time i dig my nails
upon this earth,
how weeds are temporary
as the next rose, as you
and I underneath the sky
without nearly a smear
of sunscreen;
and so we die restlessly
from one another only
to be reborn again and again
into yesterday’s mistakes
and blameless heartbreaks–
i shall keep running even
when you choose your own death,
i’ll climb over the gates, straight
ahead, I won’t be looking back

© mr gahon 11/12/14


Shy at First Sight

At some point, we become shy beyond belief. Coyness is nice or so the song says, but under the circumstances we find ourselves frozen and unable to move. To carry out this one brave task of unveiling our true feelings isn’t as easy sometimes. Perhaps, it is all about timing.

the breeze often makes me shiver…
the distance is an ocean between
you and me; the harried walk,
exhaustion suffused in this air
that imprisons me as I inhale;
I want to vomit, digesting the
thought of this silent omission
(from your life), muted as though
I was a button underneath your
finger to press at your convenience–
I am wanting you in a way I never have,
could I ever even conceive of it, to
stand next to you, disintegrating
the way that I do?

© mr gahon 11/4/14


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