Waves Of Love
You Know Who This is For
Introduction
I had a lovely time with my Muse today, and she inspired these words.
Her smile is beautiful and I love her laugh, and we had a lot of fun today, and just felt hit by waves of love, fun, and inspiration, which is why these words happened.
"Every Breaking Wave" by U2 is a great song but it was a bit too much for this poem, but Emily Cramp's version is perfect.
Waves Of Love
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When I See Your Beautiful Smile
I Am Hit By A Wave Of Love
When You Are Showing Me Your All
You Always Bring To Life, My Soul
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To Hold You Closer, My Desire
My Heart Is Yours, Beautiful Muse
Your Love And Laughter Lights My Fire
I Know For Me, You're Always True
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I Miss You So, When We're Apart
I Know We'll Soon Be Together
Yes, You Are Always In My Heart
And I Am In Yours Forever
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So Smile And Laugh And Let's Have Fun
Light Of My Life, You Are The One
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About the Creator
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More stories from Mike Singleton π Mikeydred and writers in Poets and other communities.
Mick's Cog
Introduction This is Mick's Facebook page I saw the big cog that his wife got him for his birthday and thought maybe it deserved a poem. The metal cogs, gears, and chains that are part of Mick's art and exhibitions depend on repetition so I think the correct format for this is a villanelle, and though it's nothing to do with mechanics I thought "Big Wedge" by Fish was an appropriate tune to accompany this.
By Mike Singleton π Mikeydred 2 years ago in Poets
Foot Bindings
I asked my grandmother how she knew she'd fallen in love. I am not sure I ever did love him, she said. This was before I met my husband. I was naive, a naked spring, a raw nerve of a thing. That cannot ever be me, I knew. Sadness swept in gently like a Moscow thaw. It is no simple thing, looking into a woman's vast soul and seeing its foot bindings. Now, in Italy divorced with my skin singed off, when I say I don't love him mean: I have succeeded at feeling nothing most days and it mostly works. Do you want the comfort of Nothing? Do you want Nothing, too? Be warned: you'll never be free, even when you are nothing. Here is what doesn't work: Accepting the stages of grief. Talking about it. Sitting with the feeling. Missing himβno, the person you were when you believed in death do us part. Writing poetry. That, too. When I say I don't love him I mean: I feel capsized in an endless, starved tide. What sometimes works: selective memory. You must forget ripe tomatoes and his beard and feeling perfectly sheltered in a big blue world. Forget coffee in bed, laughter watching TV, blowing out the candles on the birthday cake and the quiet all-encompassing knowledge that you are chosen. Remember only how love turned to a banal everyday survival act, a trapeze act unsure whether he will catch you, how the warmth stagnated and became sour, remember the foot bindings and remember the resentment boiling in your veins as you stick it out for the kids. Six-hour Netflix binges help, too. A man's fingers tracing your spine. Frozen pizza at 2 a.m. Random trips to the museum just to stand near things that last a while. The realization that crying wonβt change anything. Seeing that life is just a dream, and refusing to participate in your own suffering. Bite your fist. Walk on eggshells around joy. When I say I don't love him, I mean he didnβt break my heart, he just stopped touching it and it forgot how to beat right.
By Ella Bogdanova3 days ago in Poets
The Lesions of Devotion
Every day I set myself down on the freshly cut lawn and strip myself bare. I take my guitar and finger the frets and pick at the strings, listening for dissonance. My life is dissonance. I twist the tuning pegs until each string sounds bright. Then I kneel, calves pointing behind me, kneecaps facing forward. All exposed to the breeze. I close my eyes and play the melody.
By Paul Stewart5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (6)
Aww Mike, this was so nice! Such a heartwarming poem for your muse.
Lovely.
Awww, you and your muse are soooo adorable! Loved your poem!
This is lovely. Well done.
Lovely poem, very musical!
Beautiful poem as always about your muse. I thought your muse was in the video