Tuesday, April 29, 2014

I'm so sad

I'm so sad.
You're not who I want you to be,
you don't see the world, admire shapes,
look at the colors, and nature's brilliance.
What is life to you?
Gaming, obligations, sex.

No matter how I give myself to you,
you never seem to see,
what is important to me.
See how God made us! See the beauty!

You make me feel worthless.
No matter what you say.
"I love you. I don't like to see you cry."
But I can't work. I can't think.
Because things are so wrong between us.

What is important to me?
Love, respect, admiration of our God.
The orthodox church, orthodox traditions,
family, organization, peace, the lack of fear,
faith, hope, and communication.

~Rosem~ 4/26/14


Home is where the heart is,
Home is in myself,
Where God is with me,
Home is peaceful.
Home is where I'm happy,
Where things are under control,
Home is where my cats meow,
Where I drink tea, and think,
Home is where I rest,
I sleep and read and eat,
Home is where I study,
Where I talk and sort things out,
Home is where I play,
I game, and I teach, and I talk,
Home is where I create.
Where I paint, where I knit,
Home is where I pray,
Where I hope and believe and thank,
Because without faith live is meaningless to me.
Home is where I want to live,
With a husband, and some kids.
They must know and love God, the way that I do.
If not, be at peace, and show others love too.
My husband I want to see me.
To be thankful for all that I am.
Home is where I make love for the first time,
And where I make love for the last.
My husband is to whom I make love to with,
In him, I make love with God, to God, because of God.
Home is where I am at peace.
Where I know I met the right one.
Where I know I made at least one right choice.
The biggest choice.
One of love.


Relationships and Life

I used to think you were romantic,
sensual, artistic and sweet.
I found all my peace in your arms,
or so I thought was a sanctuary.

But you can't tell me what you're thinking,
perhaps you just don't know.
Why is it, my body is bleeding,
when I thought that you called me home.

Who once was a safe secure escape,
now makes my heart feel raced.
horny, clingy and needy.
Don't tell me, honey, that you're ready.

One feels many things, but one's heart feels more.
My voice cries out in song, wishing. praying.
Pleading to God, pleading that you see my weakness.
See through to my heart. It's weeping alone.

I'm still afraid to be alone,
peace is the absence of fear.
I am not at peace, and so I look to you.
What can we do? I truly love you.

You're voice is so assuring,
my temper is yearning,
I want something more from you.
And I don't know what to do.

You say I am prideful, and have no respect,
then why is it honey, that I care about you.
Why am I still here? If you are no good for me.
Am I lustful? Am I selfish? Do I only like your body?

Still I wish you liked mine. I wish you admired me all the time.
Kept your hands to yourself, and let your mind be all mine.
Make love to your mind. Make love to mine.
Love in the mind goes beyond love in the time.

The sound escapes my lungs,
the sky and clouds above,
and tears rain like waterfalls,
because my heart is not at home.

~Rosemary~ 4/26/14