At the Motor Inn by the Airport
Love is an ergonomic pain remover
To obliterate the obvious
While sorrow sears through your heart at the speed of light
The urge to merge in the fusion union is all we have left
Dance the libido boogie, to a distorted rhythmic engulfment
Swaggering between disappointment, guilt and desire on the tightrope
Of the unrelenting pull of the primal directive
Hoping tomorrow’s encounter is heaven’s scent
And not lust in love’s clothing
A mere sexual transmission
Another labor of lust
The woman was a fetching, intoxication brew
Her spiritual smile meant instant conquest of all she surveyed
Make me soft again, one last chance at salvation
Mold me, make me whole once more
I’m just a failed romantic, abandoned by love
In the here and now, it’s Eden or bust
Organic love that fits like a glove
As time stampedes on, burying all behind it
Emotions, best kept under wraps, linger on
Battling rationality all the way
To spite my lust, despite my lust
Eternal obsessions are our claim to fame
Scavenging through the ruins
I have been inconspicuous by my absence
I spare no effort in attempts
To skywalk though the suffering
I have known the heights of happiness
Along with the depths of despair
How else can one distinguish the difference?
Hearts are broken, but keep beating
Bones are crushed and can mend
But what of the spirit?
© Susan Weiman: NYBG Kusama
Mellow Madness During the Holidays
Your future has been deleted
Your future has been denied
Your future is non-existent
Your future was left behind
Your future was bought and sold
You can’t work your way through college
You can’t retire when you get old
The money was not paid
When your future was held ransom
Believers will prey, but not the agnostics
We discuss injustice
Have charity banquets
But not a penny for the vanquished
New York City streets are filled with blood and vomit
We pray not to wind up like the homeless
Soup kitchens and pantries turn thousands away
Why is this season different from any other day?
All the wealthy sinners who have been greedy
Volunteer a few hours or dollars to help the needy
Working people are laid off as jobs fly overseas
The pandemic persists and won’t recede
The future ain’t what is used to be
Obliterate aspirations and fantasies
We’ve made a world where nothing can last
The future is in preserving the past
Silence is in motion
You’re busy watching your back
Wondering when you’ll be discarded
Like yesterday’s trash
Our population is smothered in technology and fear
Let’s celebrate again, same time, next year
At the Airport
Promises made in the dark heat of the night before
Are not practical matters in the morning rush to the airport
We were stalled in traffic on the expressway
My London born angel made it to the boarding gate
With only a few precious minutes to spare
No time for a romantic, lengthy au revoir
A purposeful and steady pace propelled her through the gate
No hesitation, never once looking back
The engaging British woman, ten years my senior
Seemed to evaporate into thin air
My love was taking off on a twelve-hour flight across the Atlantic
I could no longer avoid that heavy sinking feeling
A significant part of me was ripped from my being
Within a few months, she easily found a reason to cut me off
My plans to return to Europe hit a snag
I was facing a fork in my road
Her estranged wealthy parents died in a car crash
While on holiday in Australia
She left Holland, returning to a vast fortune
Then remarried the first, of her four husbands
I knew at the airport, the end result of any long distant romance
But banished this knowledge from body and mind
That last night together at the motor inn
We lie, side by side, shoulder to shoulder, in silence
No need of words, they were barriers
She and I held hands and slipped off to dreamland
We had arrived at elation, one flesh, one being
As close as we ever could be in every way imaginable
The climax of our seven beautiful months together
Gone with the wind upon the break of day
Never to return, except in memory
And some faded photographs
To remind me of the time
When friction and vibration were at peace
The Ill-Tempered Cavalier
My considered successes are not listed on my resume
No need to speak of my failures, I’m acutely aware of them
Expect withdrawal from people, places and things
Callous time has no concern
As to when or why it clipped your wings
Buried in the shadows
A bit of bitter love remains
The intrinsic value of the spirit
Is measured by its reverberations
I don’t believe in reincarnation
If it is an unnatural fact
I would like to return
As an American Bald Eagle
To be a bird of prey
Instead of one
Who is preyed upon
I recall the moment
When I saw grass and a flower
Growing through a crack
On the third-floor window ledge
Of the building where I was employed
Mother nature staking its claim
Against man’s unnatural terrain
Leave me with my precious memories
Of what New York City used to be
Affordable rents, room to breath
A citizenry that used to be free
Internet Rumors Trending Now
Attaching itself to the internet
The rumor went viral
The virus spread like wildfire
There was no stopping it
No taking it back
His name was mud
His reputation ruined
He was ostracized
Due to downright lies
He was made to pay
For others crimes
His stature demeaned
His legacy deleted
His accomplishments
Which were vast
Tossed into the trash
Oh, by the way
He was innocent