Succumbing to pain
Growing numb to the ice chains
Forgetting the cage

I Have
With you
This faith
This love
This intimacy
This knowing

I Have
In you
My love
A lilt
A tune
A flowing

You are
Sometimes
My darling
Worlds
Of ache
And pain

You are
Right now
This moment
Forever
And
The same

I long
To tease
Apart
The me
The you
The thy

I want
To scream
And shout
You are
Not you
You’re I

I love you
Slow
And softly
With tenderness
Not shame

I always
Was you
Always
We are
one, And
The same

There is
A vast
Awareness
That seems
Not yours
But mine

There is
Some solace
In that
You are
My very
Mind

The glass of water shattering,
in my imagination and almost beyond
like everything else in so many ways
but not me, never me;
I am... the safety
I am the padding of the cell
I am the broken fuse allowing all the light to shine.
I am the possibility that smothers the fear in cradle.

Launch a caustic haiku turned flailed terzanelle
Three lines of blather from a piqued poet’s feather
Skillful syllables omit nature; gone straight to hell

Obsession sketching rhythms rhyme then measure
An ink blot parking lot commencing to swell
Three lines of blather from a piqued poet’s feather

Jot, “Not the verse that got away!” I yell
Prosodic and onomatopoeic
An ink blot parking lot commencing to swell

Fingertips that linger quips mythopoeic
Bring monochroic wars of subtle allure
Prosodic and onomatopoeic

My iambic pentameter’s amateur
I’m done with these words, ink, terms altogether
Bring monochroic wars of subtle allure

To ponded frog on a bough’s frond, any weather
Launch a caustic haiku turned flailed terzanelle
I’m done with these words, ink, terms altogether
Skillful syllables omit nature; gone straight to hell.

A. Paige White 6/1/20

Wither, weary eyes
  Come seek me here at high noon
    Blind, in the sunlight.
------------------------------------------
   Silver light sings now
  Shadowing the night so deep;
Called, I answer.
-----------------------------------------
Down where mischief keeps
  Its uncertain ***** laughter
    I build my garden.
-----------------------------------------
     ***** and stick, the thorns
  Growing lovely now, the leaves
Rarer still, the rose.
-----------------------------------------
Icy crystals of frost
  Lacing the window like lattice
    Fading in the sun.
-----------------------------------------
   Whisper, quiet touch;
  Your skin, soft and supple;
My world, beside me.
-----------------------------------------
Wheezing, hacking hurt
  That torments me like the plague
    Springs sweet gift to me.

Words at the tip of my tongue
At the nib of my pen
Refusing to step outside
And see the light of day
I nudge them a little
Encourage them to see the world
They don't have to be perfect,
They just need to be my vessel
My messenger
To contain and carry my thoughts
I just need someone
Or even something else to know

I don't force them outside
If they refuse to obey
I just **** them gently
Day by day
A scribble at a time
Until the words tumble out
Ready to come outside
Each step easier than the last
Tripping less often than they used to

Maybe on some days
The words become more stubborn
Revert back to their old ways
Refusing to be written
But it's alright
They just need a break
Give them some time
And they'll get back to their groove
Words dancing on paper
In perfect harmony
In sync with the rhythm
Of what my heart
Wants the world to read

There are very few things that you won’t get better at with practice, time and resilience.

I need
to continuously practice
responding to situations
according to my best principles of wisdom
because continuous practice
improves my skill
at striving for joy and happiness
in a wise way.