Tag Archives: Relationships

how they met

delicious urges boiled and simmered

as she watched the gorgeous man-boy swim

diving into the mist and spray of the sea once again

watching his bare skin glisten as he emerged into the sun

lying there on the beach she allowed herself to daydream

of feeling him against her, of tasting the salt on his skin

drunk on the thought, she languished, half asleep

not noticing his approach until she heard a voice above her

“Sorry to intrude but I was watching you watching me…”

and that is how they met

~Melanie Thomason 2/21/19

 

So my friend Gigi has been writing a series of short stories How They Met, spinning fabulous tales of could be couples’ first encounters.  If you haven’t read any of them, you really should.  Anyway she inspired me…and the above poem is a tip of my hat, if you will, to her.

 

 

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no way to live

A life lived in service of another

one, undeserving of such devotion

one, that doesn’t even see it

one, who professes to think so highly

one, who still has no clue

and how insulting is that from the

one, who is supposed to know you better than anyone else

You ask, How it is that you now find yourself

knee deep and questioning, yet again?

It is simple really

you’ve lived your life in service of another

undeserving of such devotion

~Melanie Thomason

2/20/19

 

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math and baggage

we are but travelers here

picking up a few souvenirs along the way

i know things don’t always go right

and so i write

ya see I’ve never been good at math

but when I feel like i have nothing left

it all adds up to you

there beside me,

slightly to the left

making me more than one

and i know that i have won

I am worthy of love after all

and that particular piece of baggage can be tossed aside

cause i no longer have need of it

~Melanie Thomason

 

 

 

 

 

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after the fact

i hate you up on your high horse

hate you, not the horse, of course

you talk about how i caused you

so much anxiety

but we both know i had nothing to do

with your insecurities

guess you now believe all the lies

you’ve told yourself

as the inconvenient truth dies

on a dusty shelf

go ahead and enjoy your little victories

but only cause you’ve rewritten HIStory

~Melanie Thomason

2/19/19

 

 

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Anniversary Gift

seafoam green

with an excited gleam in his eyes

he hands her a package

silently she opens to find

a fantasy of silk and lace

sea-foam green and barely there

he directs her to undress and put it on

wordlessly she complies

he observes as silk slides across young, pert flesh

he commands her to model it for him

to move with the music

she complies as he watches with hungry eyes

brusquely he pulls it off and tosses it carelessly to the floor

 pushing her roughly to the bed

he can’t be bothered with undressing

he just takes what he wants from behind

when he is done he notices the delicate green silk crumpled under his boot

he tosses it to her and says

“Wash that and re-wrap it before your mom gets home.”

~Melanie Thomason

a reblog, this poem is in my 2nd book of poetry.

Moonpies & Naugahyde

which is available in full color, black and white or on Kindle.

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tangled up in you

Walking around in circles

never seems

to get me very far

Somehow

despite the distance,

I keep ending up

back

exactly where you are

You see my love,

my heart

is all tangled up in you 

And whether or not you want it

there is nothing you can do

My heart keeps returning,

it seems out of my control

You see without you I am lacking,

I am strong

but I am un-whole

Now don’t mishear me,

I’m not looking for fairy tales

Fireworks are overrated,

true love is in the day to day details

I’m not expecting a white knight hero

on a charging stately steed

All I’m expecting is to finally

get precisely what I need

I’m older now

and I’ve been around the block

a time or two

I’m tired of waiting,

ready to start now,

how bout you?

 

~Melanie Thomason

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raw

he recalls

every hurt

every lie

every wrong

done to him

every wrong

done by him

­

anguished

he remembers

all who abandoned him

yet he worships still

at her altar

for it is love

that lets men live

­

he tries

time and again

only to fail

so he isolates

and self medicates

(though he would deny it)

the liquor

dulling the pain

to an almost tolerable level

allowing him to speak

to share

to try to gain understanding

~Melanie Thomason

February 2018

 

 

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Rock and the Leaf

I wanted to share a short story that I recently found while going through the belongings my best friend’s recently departed brother.   I found the story charming and thought that more than just I should read it…so I typed it up to share here.  My only edits are adding a bit of punctuation and a couple words [indicated in brackets] just for clarity and ease of reading.  I do hope you enjoy it!

 


Rock and the Leaf

Once there was a rock.  Not a big rock but a rock securely anchored with other rocks which were under water.  The water slewed around him and over them and made a quiet little eddy behind.  He made a nice, precise little place and the water just flowed around him.

He set there for a long time and the mosses and bugs that lived around began to trust him.  They began to grow and live around him.  Beautiful green moss nourished by the water flourished on his back.  He provided shelter for the bugs that lived in and around the water.  He sheltered them well through the dry hard times when the water ebbed and his brother rocks could see what he was doing then and he sheltered them when the creek raged.

Beautiful creatures began to live there; the wondrous water boatmen, pixie flies and quick water striders.  They all praised him for his strength and great power.  It was about this time that strangers came and began to marvel at the beautiful effect that came with all the wonderful creatures living around him.  Water burbled, birds sang, sunlight glinted off “his” water.  People came from all around to look at this beautiful sight.  Somebody set up a stone bench so that people could stop, rest, and gaze [at] this little scene.  It was so beautiful.

Then one day, on a warm sparkling autumn day, a leaf float[ing] by became enchanted by the quiet little cove created by the rock and his friends.  So she slipped.  “Hi,” she said in a throaty voice.  “Hi,” said the rock, pleased with the creek, the water, and everything.  He was doing a good job and he knew it.  “This is a nice place,” she said, “I like what you’ve done here.”  “Thank you,” said the rock, “I like how you swirl [and] your colors are so pretty.”  “Thank you,” said the leaf, “Do you mind if I rest here a bit? I’m a little tired.”  “By all means, please do,” said the rock, “That is why I’m here.” His chest swelled noticeably.  The leaf smiled and nestled right in.  The rock smiled benevolently upon [the] leaf.  He liked the way she lay against him. The edge of her stem tickled him.  The tips of her touched him in a way he’d never been touched before.  It was strange but nice, sort of like the wings of a butterfly.  She fell asleep.

The next day she awoke in the bright sunshine.  The rock said, “Hello, good morning.”  She said, “Hello, sleep well.”  “I don’t sleep,” said the rock, “I have to stand fast or else all creatures under my care are cast away.”  “Oh really?” she asked. “I never really worry about that, I just find another rock when I need to, or a log, or the side of a branch.  It’s really no trouble and quite simple.

They talked many hours.  He told her about the bugs and the people.  She told [him] about the many sights she had seen; the mosque on the hill, the beautiful cherries, cemeteries, [and] people’s homes.  She talked of many things.  He talked about the many storms he’d weathered.  [About how he had] almost been dislodged once and he’d hung on saving the delicate green mosses [and] the minnows their home.

So they lived for a while.  Her colors fascinated him; she had reds, greens, yellows all over and a streak of dark red that made him [think] of winter frost.

One night there was a storm and she wasn’t near him.  He couldn’t see in the dark.  He couldn’t feel her touch either.  He was afraid she’d gone, but she hadn’t.  In the morning he found her drifting near where the current was strong.  “Don’t leave,” he called.  She spun his way, all crinkly, and said, “Oh, but I must.  I don’t want to stay here.  You are very beautiful but there are other sights to see and things to do.”  “There are sights here, too” he said.  “It’s too quiet here,” she said laughing gaily.  “The quiet is where the deepest wonder is,” he said miserably.

She floated off.  He watched her drift off.  “I don’t care if you leave,” he muttered, “…I don’t…”  She didn’t hear.

He didn’t miss her until the next night, when the tendril of touch that she used to hold on with was gone.  Night followed day and then night.  “Leaf-la,” he thought, “where have you gone?”  As the water moved around him it began to eat away under his moorings.  His grip became looser and still the water wore on.  His brothers called to him in dismay, but he paid no heed.  He kept looking downstream.  “I wish I were a leaf,” he thought despairingly.  “Leaf-la where are you?” he said.

The water wore on.  Pieces of moss began to float away.  The bugs began going someplace else to eat and raise their young.  The minnows left.  People stopped coming to sit and watch the rock and his minions.  The water had a plain raucous sound.  “Rock what’s going on?” asked his brother rocks.  He would not reply.

That night a roaring rushing came down the creek.  Rock didn’t care.  “Leaf-la,” he thought [as] the water lifted him, “Leaf-la, I’m coming.”  Down the creek he went with other nomadic rocks.  Stumbling and splashing he jerked along.  “Leaf-la I’m coming.”

He used all his knowledge of water to move along.  He stayed where the current was strong. [He] avoided big stopper rocks.  Still even after all the rocks he’d known had stopped, he kept on bumping and stumbling ever onward, looking for Leaf-la.

By Bruce McJilton

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