Author: iamwill216

Love is a Bitch!

Love is a Bitch!

 

Cruel Love

Sneaky, uninvited

She appears when least expected

Intent on mischief, beguiling fools

With sweet charm

 

Quickened hearts pound

Having found

The One

To heal life’s scars

Comfort the empty Soul

With Love’s soothing balm

 

Oh Wicked Love!

Cruel Deceiver

A mirage to the Soul

She vanishes

Leaving only tears and broken hearts

Where once her warm presence lingered.

Advertisements

Divided

October 2011 – Johannesburg

Divided

Once Again

On the edge of Light

Divided I stand

 shall I fall? Shall I fight?

To the Breach! To the Breach!

The valor cry!

But none stand with me

Alone, I face my lie

Is this my path?

I rise, only to fall?

Is there not a neither?

Where just being, is the All.

Is this Life not the dream?

Where right and wrong deceive

Is not the True Life just being,

Through which we Truth, in Light, conceive?

I met a woman – a friend of a friend – one night when I was out alone.  It was one of those surreal evenings out when, fueled by relationship fatigue and alchohol, I was pretty much open to meeting someone new. And I did.  As we all do, sooner or later in our lives there will appear the other women (man).

She and I “just clicked”. We already “knew” each other, even though we had just met.  My heart was pounding. My sweaty palms moist against hers.  She even had a simian line on her left palm, just like mine.  The Universe was speaking, or so it seemed*.     That evening felt like eternity, although it ended in a blink. We parted ways and we were both in love.  *Interpreted by Jose Cuervo, apparently.

Except, we were both parting ways to return to our significant others.  I knew then, that this was a defining moment for me – not for what my racing heart was telling me to do – but for what my Soul was telling me not to.  Divided, I would remain standing, integral, whole.  Together with her, I would fall.  We both would.

The next day I chose to stand. But in my heart of hearts I know there must be another way. A way to express love, without harming others whom we love. We love for a reason. We love because love itself is boundless and seeks expression at every opportunity. It arises from the very fabric of consciousness itself.  True Love is a Fountanhead, a Wellspring. The Source of all good things. It cannot, should not, be denied. Yet so many love stories end in pain – either those who love, because they suppress and deny that love, or by the expression of their love, others are hurt. This shouldn’t be. It can’t be. There must be a middle way.

Charlotte’s Passion

Charlotte’s Passion

 Immortal Soul

Descended to Mortal Flesh

Not yet birthed

But in perfection lies

Balanced ‘tween Heaven’s Glory

And earth’s demise.

Innocence untouched, yet needs

Must choose, to Fall

And begin that journey which

Through balanced choice or

Earthly suffering

Returns to Heaven’s Gate

OR to Hell, should we err in our humanity

For we are weak vessels prone to passion’s lure

(A sin not of our own design)

Our Carnal Selves be Damned!

What fool believes in Heaven’s way

If righteousness be the only guide?

Perhaps no fool

But innocence see’s the lie

And Purity, who can deny?

This innocent’s right to choose

Her passage, whether through righteousness’ hand

Or Heaven’s Pardon

Or  to return  to Spirit, Soul unblemished

Unspoiled, yes, unborn!

A perfect One, conceived in vowed love

Nurtured and loved no less though in the Womb

Surely Angel’s delight in such a One

No less a father his cradled newborn

Or mother her swaddling babe.

No! love has not abandoned us

But abounds all the more

A beautiful death of mortal innocence

Whilst immortal Soul ascends

In Love and Truth

Her one true journey

Her Heaven’ed Fate.

April 2014: My nephew Devin and his wife Lala lose their newborn daughter Charlotte at birth.  I was gutted as if she were my own. You were so loved Charlotte, by all those around you.

Timeless

Timeless we pursue Vanity

Discarding precious moments with those we love

In Vain we cry out in regret

In the end, when the light grows dim.

 

Timeless, we spend with abandon

Until one day, expended,

we discover our misspent endeavours leave no peace

And we enter the shadows.

 

Timeless, we grasp at it

But it flows through fingers like water

Until we look down on lifeless bodies

And our souls fade into darkness.

 

Yet Timeless we are

Our lives a blink in the face of eternity

And after the end, we are born anew

To continue our sacred journey

into the Light.

I Do!

And I Did! On 28 July my bride and I walked down the aisle and consummated in Spirit, what had already been consummated in the flesh. We were married.  In hindsight, the journey from resolve (in April) to exchanging vows (in July), was short and painless.  Once I had made the choice, it became a fixture on my life path as certain as my next birthday.

Image

The real challenge for me was financial.  How to fund an elaborate, out of town weekend wedding, in such a short period of time.  I was determined not to go into debt.  But I was also determined to get married.  There was much pressure from friends and family to “just get married in Court”, but I wanted to give my Slinky a wedding she would never forget.  One I would never forget. And so the Universe conspired to make it so. Counter-intuitively, I began to give money away.  I began to sponsor a community Church from my childhood days, supported other people in their needs, and determined that mine would be as easily met. And they were. The clients came, the work rolled in, and I have had more work to deal with than I could handle (but I did). I have set new standards for myself in work throughput, but more importantly, in manifesting that which is good and desirable into my life. Into our lives. Ask and you shall receive. Seek and you shall find. Knock, and the door will be opened to you. Today that door is wide open.

Surprisingly, the Vows make a difference.  Being married feels different. There is a solemnity about making such deep promises to one other human being. I can imagine no greater sadness than to fail to live up to those vows.  Seeing her walk down that aisle towards me – radiant like the brightest star on a moonless night – I felt complete. Accomplished. Something magical was happening to me. I was being transfigured into something new. A part of me was dying, but I willingly shed that solitary, single self to become a Husband to my bride.

A new Adventure begins.

Image

Our superb photographer: Rinus Viljoen  https://www.facebook.com/rinustgf

Wedding Venue:  www.verlorenkloof.co.za

Afraid

Afraid

Why am I afraid

of the pain you inflict?

When you lash out with cruel words

or withdraw your love

Surely after all this time

I am inured to your violent heart

And your words pierce old wounds

Without pain

My heart is cold

At the thought of you

Only fear keeps me smiling

My eyes, no windows to my soul

My anger is deep

A poison

My love is dead

Only fear keeps me smiling

And I want you to die.

Late 2007 – the trauma of my relationship with Lize had reached a crescendo – or so it seemed.  Yet it would take another two years to let go.  The pain of being with her was only exceeded by the pain of leaving her.  She was my drug. My ecstasy.  A euphoric high that seemed to take me to the gates of heaven, before plunging me into the depths of hell.

Before you Go

Before you Go

Before you leave, and turn to go

Perhaps you will consider

That there is more to (this) love

I could deliver?

Then perhaps a different tack

Brings hope of passions new

Let me read you from these pages

A verse, a line – a tale to enthral you!

And so I can regain

Ground lost, through bickered hours

By soft light we’re caressed, while

My voice the story flowers!

So before you take your bow

Pause, and consider still the sound

of my voice, through these pages

while new love, and friendship’s found.

17April2007 – My relationship with Lize was beginning to unravel.  I did not know it then, but this was the first step in a long, painful process of disentanglement.  She loved me to read to her, and I had found an old edition (1952) of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.  I wrote this poem and hid it between the dusty text and colourful prints. Somehow this copy stayed with me.  In hindsight I should have left then – the tumultuous nature of our relationship, the passionate extremes, could not have been good for either of us.  Yet we clung to each other, afraid of the darkness.