How A Woman Knows If He Really Loves Her

1) When he says, "I love you almost as much as peanut butter".

2) If he lets her pick the shrimp off of his plate in a restaurant.

3) When he lets her keep the memory card with all the nude photographs.

4) When he buys her a Hooter's uniform and she doesn't even work there.

5) If he starts to order Strawberry Daiquiris at a sports bar.

6) When he buys figure skating tickets because he loves spending time with her more than he hates watching figure skating.

7) When she says. "I Love You" and he says, "I know".

8) If he reads 50 Shades of Grey and actually gets it!!

9) When he turns the channel from Star Wars to Storage Wars

10) If he says, "You are beautiful"  before she puts her make up on

A Bad Man With Good Intentions

Copyrighted@robmason2012

 

He stood there sheltered and out of the wind. The overhang of the building kept him dry as a hard autumn rain pounded the streets with no signs of letting up. With one full bag and one empty heart he bided his time waiting for his chance to be reborn. And he understood the irony of a rebirthing that would finally define and then claim his life. The streets were empty except for a few cars passing but no one paid him any notice. He blended with the night. He blended with the darkness. He embraced the loneliness and he preferred it that way. He touched no one except for maybe that one. He could never be sure. But she was out of his reach now. Or perhaps, he was out of hers. And when he stopped wondering long ago it defined a man thankful for both

The shrill of a blowing whistle caught his attention and he turned towards it in anticipation. A false alarm as it was not yet his turn. The night seemed to be getting longer while his days felt only more numbered than ever. A bad man with good intentions is a man who craves to crawl out of his own skin. And these cravings were now more than just creeping! He wanted something more while feeling that he was deserving of less. Such a man who dreams for fields of gold and green is surely a man who dreams in desperation. He revised his dreams when revising his life. Defining success when accepting pain, his loneliness was his crowning achievement. He knew his fate and he knew his true self. He was born to hurt and was determined that it would never again be shared. He would better himself this night when he left behind the one he loved. His loss would be her opportunity. Her chance for love would be his selfless act. He loved her more than life itself. He loved her and so he let her go.

The raindrops became a blur as he drift to places and traces of another time. It was as if he had strayed into a dream but one where he always knew how it ended. It always ended and always the same. The night became a portal for reliving every past mistake of his life and each moment seemingly fresh in his mind. One last time and hopefully for the last time, he relived each and every regret. The wounds still stinging and the scars still reminding and there stood a man wondering if any amends would ever be within his grasp. It was a fleeting hope but he hoped that leaving would be a step in the right direction. Nearer to the end a man yearns to leave behind a legacy. When realizing that he will leave nothing that defines honour and valour, he feels caged in a trap of his own doing. There is no reprieve save that of returning to where it all began with hope that it may bring comfort to an end.

Much like his internal struggles, the rain refused to relent. Soon, he would step from his comforting cover and brave the elements for a greater good. He didn’t mind the rain as a man who feels washed up never does. He didn’t mind the cold as a man who lives cold hearted never does. Many seasons had passed on while life passed over him and evolving a man defining indifference. Yet, there was still a remnant of what he once was. But it was fading fast. He decided that before what he is finally destroyed the remnants of a man he once knew that this pain would never again be shared. His new beginning could have been felt as his year of hope but he knew in his heart it would be his last poem never read. He could have convinced himself that a new start would lead to an alternate ending. Yet, he knew better. One who hurts is only capable of hurting others. And he knew he was born to hurt but he didn’t wish too.

Within a few days of leaving there were a few who had noticed his absence. Others would not realize it for months. And there were some who never noticed at all. A few would ask why while others could not be bothered. But the one he missed the most was the one who never let her feelings be known. As time passed, he never heard from her at all. It hurt yet, he was not surprised. He could find little blame in a world where so many people were hurting from the lack of basic nourishments that sustain from within. Through his own circumstances he understood that one should never be labelled based on only the worst they are capable of. A man wanted love but did not deserve it. He wanted happiness but never earned it. He was a bad man with good intentions and wanted to change it. He would live out his days alone and he knew it. He spent his final years wandering around a new town which felt strangely familiar. Perhaps a native son had just returned home to complete the inevitable cycle of life. Perhaps it is a destiny that all must fulfilled. One man just drifted away like an evening’s summer breeze. He seemed to disappear as easily as the innocence from a young boy’s eyes. What he had to offer seemed to be what nobody wanted. What he wanted seemed always a wish too far. He wondered if this world would ever find tolerance for a bad man with good intentions. And he wondered if he could ever find the compassion to tolerate himself.

He stood there sheltered and out of the wind. The overhang of the building kept him dry as a hard autumn rain pounded the streets with no signs of letting up. With one full bag and one empty heart he bided his time waiting for his chance to be reborn. And he understood the irony of a rebirthing that would finally define and then claim his life. The streets were empty except for a few cars passing but no one paid him any notice. He blended with the night. He blended with the darkness. He embraced the loneliness and he preferred it that way. He touched no one here and thus hurt no one here. It was time to move on as a man with a good intentions made a choice not to be a bad man.

 

 

Talking To A Star

Copyrighted@robmason2012

I talk to her from time to time
I speak of the serious
She riddles and rhymes
When looking to the heavens
Then asking her why
Whenever she won't answer me
Are the sometimes I cry
The brightest star
On a star filled night
When I catch a glimpse
The wrong seems almost alright
I speak to her out loud
She gives me signs
Frustrating are the clues
To things I won't ever find
The days I can't remember
Are the days I miss
I love you mom
You know my wish

Starting With A Kiss

Copyrighted@robmason2012

Sealed with a kiss
Betrayed with a kiss
Blinded by a kiss
And loving it.

A forever lie
The forgotten lie
That loving lie
And embracing it

An untouchable dream
An endless dream
A hurtful dream
I do love dreams

My unforgettable love
An undying love
That one I love
And love can hurt

Over-Easy Sunday Morning

Embracing a day already delightful
Feelings of nothing invasive
Sensing nothing I find improper
I dare step off the sidewalk
Notwithstanding the perils
At times life has to be lived
Over-easy and able
This is a Sunday morning

From the ambitions left dangling
I know the coming tasks
I can still revel in being idle
Some dreams forgotten
Yet a time for all things
Soon it is time for me
Making preparations
I can present as a man ready

Adorning what I know cannot last
Savouring moments of every minute
What I cannot still contain
Turns subtle and always in layers
Yet this is a Sunday morning
I am over-easy and I am able
No burdens from a weightless world
Tomorrow my shoulders are broad

She

She dreams of moments
She survives in shades of grey
Happiness in combining colours
Lost yet still something seems saved

                           She cries herself to sleep at night
                           She laughs to hide away the pain
                           Still waiting on one better man
                           One to prove they are not all the same

She lives her days in the past
She struggles for something to say
Every crossroad is an indecision
Signs yet she can't find her way

                            She waits on better days
                            She looks to heaven above
                            Wanting what she cannot find
                            Who wants to live without love

The Days You Learn

Your dreams have not been lost. They remain right where they need to be. Whenever you find yourself ready, you will find your dreams there waiting. There have been too many days spent praying for your burdens to be lessoned yet omitted was a prayer for your strength to be renewed. Romantic in thoughts and preoccupied with dreams while you allow that which holds you idle to still linger. Patience is not so much a virtue but a prerequisite which gives you the opportunity to pause and reflect on what you let in and what you let go of. You hurt and then cried. You have learned, now you laugh. You have faith and you live. And the time of healing begins. Then come the days of preparation. Then a time to search your soul. Make busy your hands that remain idle. You will start to kick your feet. And with your heart open it is your feelings you will finally define. You have been like rose rushing to bloom, impatient to bud when without nature's ingredients. It is never too late to shine in your own time as a late bloomer is no less seen beautiful. There is no race that ends without a beginning and somewhere along that course you find your footing. Every piece of the puzzle is as important as the other. You will never find clarity if you stop searching. It is measurable, incremental, linear and it is obtainable. And those sooner days keep approaching. Defined as steps and you need to take them and the last one is just another first. Life is defined as progress thus remaining still is akin to regression. Becoming who you have wanted to be or rediscovering the person you once knew. Make everyday a preparation. Take everyday in turn. From hurt to healing to hope, these are the days you learn.