dedicated to the married men who remain so largely due to my efforts. 1991 to 2007, and i am done. best wishes to you all.
Dagan S. of California
Rick F. of Texas
Mark G. of Alaska
Derek M. of Florida
Randall S. of Georgia
Daniel W. of Arizona
Kevin B. of Missouri
Rick A. of Ohio
Robbie C. of Florida
Ray A. of Canada
Robert F. of New York
Wendell T. of Georgia
Craig G. of North Carolina
Andrew L. of Texas
doing the right thing
hoping, for a friend
help him turn on wing
set eye to home again
hear her crow delight
second chance lent
stream of grace’s light
when all hope was spent
sometimes years
sometimes months
sometimes not at alls
sometimes just because
it’s at my feet it falls
the dragging, heavy hopeless
that hangs before his eyes
the empty snarling fear that feeds
on being self-despised
i wish it was different, that
all those many wives could
smile for the effort that so often
finds me compromised
but of course she never hears it
or if she does, she frowns
women piss not upon doors, but
the circle of the soul’s ground
possession and the territorial
all ‘his, mine, and ours’
silence and disdain, the rest
most effectively scours
and i? i sit and watch it
kick myself for crying
they always walk away
it always feels like dying
i am learning not to hope that
ever from this comes a friend
no matter how you fix
the straying heart
you’re left alone, in the end
you take the blame, in the end
it seems almost required
perhaps the bloody offering
to prove reconcile desired
no matter there’s no cheating
no care that there’s no spite
all not ‘the bonded couple’
must remain out of sight
no wonder most choose otherwise
choose to feed their own desires
am i the only one so foolish as
to hand the world the pliers
to open up another wound
though at first it seems a flower
nourished and tenderly nurtured
over days and weeks, many hours
until the heart is sighted and
hope is once more raised, until
to watch him turn homeward
myself am sweetly crazed
perhaps the wives know better
and that i no less than they love
but for it hold the words, am closed
and force the choice above
they do not see the purity
that holds my quiet lips
they do not see the wishes
sending their men home thence
i could not tell the lie, oh yes
truly do i love
but not to have and hold
nor piss within soul’s cove
i would love him as a lover
but i’d rather love him as a friend
of course i never find either
just left alone, in the end