All languages are a vague, uncertain codes.
Misunderstanding is rampant and hurtful,
probably the most common feature of communication.
We talk and talk, but don't often hear.
We think we are listening, but mostly
we are just using the time to work out
how to respond to what we think we heard.
Precision and effort can make things better.
But until we can hear each other's thoughts,
true connection will remain nearly impossible.
Still, we must continue to try and get better,
knowing that better and perfect are not the same.

  ~mce

“I loved you long before you loved me. It's the only thing I have you beat at, and I'll bring it up every chance I get.”*

She was sitting on the beach
wearing the tiniest bikini
staring out at the perfect Adriatic.

She sat alone, which considering
her beauty and elegance
seemed some cosmically bad joke.

Unlike myself, I approached her,
flashed my guileless 17-year-old smile,
and said hello, fully expecting
a giant older brother or even
Poseidon himself to appear
from nowhere and ****** me.

She spoke a lilting English
with an accent I could not name.
She said her name was Marisa
and she was twenty-one.

Next morning, in my two dollar room,
after an exhausting night of abandon
during which she moaned and peaked
three times, she dressed as I lay
shrivelled and worn out
as a mummified banana.

She told me she had come here
to be alone a little because
next week she must marry
an older man whom she did not love
chosen as was custom by her parents.

She said she would remember me
as the last morsel of passion
she would ever know in this world.

She kissed my forehead and left.

I had no words.

I never knew her last name
nor ever saw her again.

The Wheel spins, the particles dance,
we can never know the trajectories
that chance encounter can engender
nor what shapes the next round brings.

The next day I left for Greece
uncertain of what had even happened.

I still don't know. I never will.

But I think I may have met her again...

  ~mce

She has it all:

wit, intelligence
and beauty,
but denies them
as if to be special
is somehow
a shame.

She keeps her heart
deep within a castle:
moat, drawbridge,
walls, keep and towers
to keep hurt away.

If you want her you
must lay siege
to the fortress,
slowly break down
all obstacles,
replace them
with trust.

You must win
her by being
patient and worthy.

I am an old soldier
but my will
remains stronger
than most.

I have one
more campaign
left in me.

I will take
this citadel,
overcome
these obstacles
or break my heart
on its walls.

Defeat is not
an option where
such a prize
awaits.

"Once more into
the breach."

   ~mce

We are different. Why not?

But we are so much alike.

An aging monk, I long ago
left the importance of opinions
and the world's judgements behind.

For me, that was difficult.

First, the world beat me
to a ******, barely breathing
husk of a man.  I took many
punches; I struggled up
and learned a new way to live.

You are young and what
had to be beaten out of me
seems to come naturally to you.

Now, I take my chances
and live with the results.

All I ask of you  is a chance.

Whatever happens will happen.

Two souls that kiss
can overcome many differences
because, soul to soul,
they create their own world
outside of time and space.

Maybe not forever, but in
a mortal world, what difference?

Forever is you in my arms,
the still point in life's
hurricane, for as long as
you are content to be there.

I didn't storm your world;
you let me in. I can't win
your heart; you aren't a prize,
you are a person, a woman.

You will choose to offer it
freely or you will not.

Your life, your heart, your choice.

I am here, a man, waiting to see
how the cards get dealt and then
play the hand I am given.

I am hoping to get
the Queen of Hearts.

Here's to good cards and good luck.

  ~mce

The stranger said "Love it can cry you a river -
Me, I'm a loner cause I can't take the heartache
And sometimes I'm a fighter when I get too much whiskey -
Here have a little whiskey, pretend you don't give a **** -*

I am a loner and
sometimes a fighter,
but there is
not enough
whiskey in the world
to drink you
out of my heart
or  allow me
to pretend
I don't give a ****
or to ignore
the heartache.

I take my pain
like a warrior:
straight up.
  ~mce