Our Love was

My love was pure, the kind which baptized the sins of your heart and left it as white as milk. The kind where when you lay out in the orchard of my memories you’d pick the sweetest of them all and hold it close to your chest allowing it to touch the sweet nectar of your skin and embrace its delicate touch. I gave you an infinity in the little time we had, I gave you galaxies, moons and  milky ways and yet you still yearned for the stars in my eyes. It was never enough. When we’d stare up at the night sky and accept its darkness and beauty, and how it could manage to silence us both and always push me into your arms, because that’s what you were to me the night sky in all its phases. The sun which shined on my darkest days and the starry night sky which always lead me home. You were the end to all my beginnings and the solution to all my problems. And when you’d ask me if I loved you, I’d always say it was like asking me if I breathe. But you took my breath with you leaving me to choke, and I’ve never learnt to breathe again…

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7 thoughts on “Our Love was

  1. You write from a deep emotional place full of images; a humanly natural place. You once referred to it as a “dark abyss” of your soul; but mind you that “everything that lives is holy,” as Blake said. I guess I’m saying it’s not a dark thing to examine and know yourself – and bless what you’ve found. College is a good time to learn and grow. You may come across info that at first you don’t understand, but which later sinks in. Knowledge is a lifelong pursuit after graduation. Don’t quit learning after finishing school. One student I knew graduated and then just sloughed it all to be a Catholic. His curiosity and intellect were forgotten. He just wanted to work his job and keep his wife pregnant. He stopped asking earnest questions about the world. A lot of grownups do that – just cut to the chase to the practical. They decide that innocent questioning isn’t useful. So, they lose their innate purity. For your part, don’t give up your beautiful writing… don’t sell out for ideas not your own. Keep being romantic and original; trust your instincts and scoff at your critics… Sorry to lecture. Your writing is quite original and personal, which was what drew me. This latest piece may be your best. Take care. Rob

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    1. Thank you. Your kind comments always cease to surprise me, not because either doubt your kind words and generous soul, but because I fine it in a way amusing how you talk about me and my writing whilst I feel I am not ‘there yet’- as you’d call it for the search of finding myself as a person, let alone any sort of writer. I write or I should say put words together because I cannot say I am a writer when others take years to practise the craft and perfect it and I ‘put words together’ and insult their profession by my writing. I write because it makes me happy, not because I get bored or because I seem to be good at it. It does make me happy, it gives relief to my heart after every piece I write, and that’s the feeling I look for. This conversation has inspired me to write another piece, Thank you as always for your kind words and always making my morning. Good morning from this side of the world

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      1. I’m not a capitalist with writing, either. I’ve never published a poem, but with each poem I wrote, I could reread it and revise it till I alone was satisfied. I am a perfectionist, but I’ve seen what a fellow musician’s perfectionism did to him. He shot himself in the heart. It’s not worth it, is it? My pen pal in Scotland has an autistic boy, which gives her but a limited time each weekday to draw. She learned about the practice of taking a 20-min window in which to be creative, even if you don’t finish. Just save it until next day. She has no design to go pro, despite that her art is brilliant. In my case, I hope someone finds my work after I’m dead, makes me posthumously famous. Hopkins and Dickinson were discovered only after their deaths… I like your statement re blowing away less-talented pro writers with your amateur works. You recognize you have talent. If you put words together just for happiness, then by all means follow your bliss. I presumed that you’d want to take it all the way. It seems a bit like miscarried justice when talents don’t get pursued to recognition. I used to be a fine bass guitarist, but now I only practice in my living room for my dog. Have fun with your next sketch… I wrote a new blog post tonight.

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      2. I would like to further pursue my passion for writing as i am studying English Literature and hope to write a boom someday if I am worthy of that honour. Just i get moments where I doubt myself as does anyone else, so I am working on that to be able to be confident with what I do even if I do mess more times than I should haha. But thank you and I will check out your new post as soon as I am back from college. Have a nice day

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      3. Pardon my ignorance, but what’s a “boom?” Sounds like something worth achieving. For me, I fear gratuitous criticism and ridicule, deserved or not. And coming to expect the worst is hard to do, tho it may be a good coping strategy. Sometimes I need a mood lifter before writing online. Anxiety is the enemy – but on the other hand, having some proves that you care. You don’t want to be apathetic like a Buddhist or something. Get to your goal with baby steps. Or, live w/o goals. Do you plan things ahead, or instead let the chips fall? I worked with a guy whose procrastination and faith drove me to distraction. To my mind, the band was taking an incredible risk by gigging, so why tempt fate? …That’s great re English literature. Ever read Thomas Hardy? About the most compelling novel I ever read was _The Mayor of Casterbridge_, chiefly because I’d been biased for the opposite perspective. It’s like a Greek tragedy… See ya later. Thanks in advance for visiting my blog. This blogging activity is bearing fruit for me now. It only needed patience and persistence. Ciao for now.

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