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Ying Yang Love
(Ramblings of a
Poetic Madman)
She comes with too many questions. Too
much thought is involved now and the natural flow of desire, lust, is disturbed,
as it becomes something of an entity of the mundane bogged down with the
inherent problems of everyday living. There is no more escapism involved, as one
would venture to a movie and let your mind take flight, destination unknown.
That’s how it was once upon a time. A reprieve from the world where the only
unspoken rule is pleasure at all cost and the sanctity of mutual satisfaction is
upheld. And at the end of the journey, you both went your separate ways, free to
indulge in the fantasies that run rampant, untamed through the wilds of your
mind. Now, she wears the eyes of the forlorn, of the broken hearted, the hopeful
ones and pleasure is no longer a euphoric release but tinged with guilt as the
moment of release arrives and your thoughts have already left the bedroom.
Physically you’re still there, but mentally, the escape is complete and
you’re completely free to travel at your mind’s discretion. Her love was
quiet, unspoken and lay sleeping in the dark never to be seen. Without a voice,
no whispers can be heard and even when it’s real, because it is voiceless, it
remains unheard. The quiet won’t be quiet for too long. In its silence, it
gathers strength, gaining speed and momentum and then one day, there is no more
silence. The quiet has been interrupted and a voice speaks. Love has a voice and
her allies are lust and desire. Together, they have forged an alliance to topple
the regime of your fortified bubble. Inside the bubble, the air isn’t as sweet
anymore. And the mind diseases of
the outside world have somehow latched onto love and her allies and attached
themselves to a once beautiful mind. The air is sour, rancid and lust and desire
have gone into hiding, semi-retirement. Call us, they both say, once you’ve
rid yourself (they say it quietly because they fear to speak her name). To utter
it would make it real. To merely think it would seemingly make it only
temporary, like a bad dream that will end before you die. Solace has been
disturbed and sacred ground has been trampled on with disrespect. She thinks she
knows what’s best for you, and takes the lead in your dance. You are left to
follow a path not made for you, but the sheer will of her insistence leaves you
without a choice. And here you stand, balancing between good and evil, your
future and the past, the moment of now. Who owns the proxy to make your
decisions? There is no proxy. You are the decision maker and the wrong choice
right now could alter the fortunes of your future. A commercial break from life
would be welcomed right about now. That needed time to catch your breath, give
your heart time to catch up with your thoughts and together they will make a
dash for the border or embrace the growing whisper in your soul. She has sought
you out, laid claim to your loneliness and the choice is to choose her. Once the
choice has been made, will the questions cease or will her girlfriends’ lust
and desire stay quiet and go gracefully out to pasture? Love personifies the
word beautiful and in her presence you too are beautiful.
A
funny thing happened along the way: at first, subtle, but anyone looking closely
can now see the discernable difference in you. Where darkness had taken up
permanent residence now a light shines through filled with hope and the joy of a
child just happy to be happy, and they don’t even know that they are radiating
happiness. The confidence of knowing you are worthy of love now travels in your
every step and those times of self-doubt are a distant memory. You can now smile
at the thought of the one who caused you so much pain. You are healed once you
can laugh about the lowest point in your life. Time does heal. Love heals also
when she’s wrapped in its friend, forgiveness.
The Ying and Yang of love, a river that flows both ways, clashing on
their way to their inevitable destination but, rough waters along the way force
them to forge an alliance of survival. Somewhere along the way, the waters
become calm and love once again triumphs over her misguided foes, apathy and
despair. A heart once left to swim in murky waters has come up for air after an
extended vacation in the abyss. The
air is sweet, just as you remembered it, and the life that left your soul,
changing the path of who you were going to be, has returned to the place of its
birth, your heart. You feel like a
balloon being filled with love and, with every passing day, the joy of happiness
you feel waking up every morning has you feeling like the years of heartache are
a distant memory. You wonder why so much time was wasted on things you knew
would only cause you pain and deter you from the path you were meant to walk.
Reflecting back at all the faces, lips, smiles and sounds made only for the
night blend into each other like a tapestry of a phantom heart, each one
pledging their undying love but their words were always met with indifference.
Indifference born not of callousness but, a desire to feel that your heart is
being touched with as much passion that runs searing through your veins.
Anything less than the pinnacle just won’t suffice. Once you’ve been to the
mountaintop and enjoyed the view basking in all its beauty, anything less than
that picture isn’t as beautiful.
A wise friend once said to me, that every time you sleep with someone you
don’t love, you lose a piece of your soul. The essence of who you truly are is
slowly dying without a fight. Imagine, she said, if you’ve already slept with
three women you didn’t love (them loving you doesn’t count), you are giving
yourself away to another soul who can’t truly appreciate it because you
don’t hold them in the same regard as they hold you. To hammer her point home
even further she went on to say, visualize yourself as a glass of water and that
every person you’ve shared yourself with and didn’t love takes a drink of
your water. Soon enough, you will be empty. The only way to keep the glass full
is to love someone and by doing this, you will stop taking and start giving.
Your cup will then runneth over. Advice given should always be taken. I say all
this to say that on the journey, every flower smelled has been beautiful, even
those with the occasional bee in hiding that caused me temporary pain was worth
the bee sting. Long after the pain has subsided, you can’t help but remember
the initial feeling of inhaling a beautiful flower that blooms only for you.
It’s a scent that creates a memory all its own.
Jean-Pierre,
Dean
Copyright
© www.deanthepoet.com
(The
thought process behind this is not merely a mirror into my own psyche or to
strum my own guitar. It’s rather an attempt at looking at
love/lust/desire/madness/passion call it what you want through one eye, but
seeing different perspectives. Somewhere along the way, we’ve all inhabited
different personas that we have mistaken for love and then, somewhere along the
way, we find it--love--quite by accident. Anyway, take this for what you
will…)