not quite
~Kevin Urenda
often more painful
than love unrequited
is the harm of
a long-time love
not-quite-ed
taking notes
~Kevin Urenda
I am taking notes on you
for I want to remember
I have to figure out
some way to preserve
that gleam in your eyes
that one, there
jolt to me
in waves of the way it felt
to know deep inside
my soul that
just when I thought
I had won your heart
you had already given it to me
hunter
~Kevin Urenda
Stalking your love
like some war criminal
It is no longer recompense I seek
merely closure
I wonder if I can ever recover from
the pieces of me
that you cleansed from our lives
with an almost wanton brutality
you have taken from me
the heart I once loved so
and for no reason
the indiscriminate violence
of your self-absorption
has torn apart
the relics of my soul
leaving my spirit finally
as barren as a burned out town
first snow
~Kevin Urenda
I thought I could
shake off the cobwebs
clean a little house
draw the blinds and let
your sun shine into
my heart
but it is already winter here
outside the Arctic Circle
of us
and it looks like Spring is
coming later every year now
and my love
farther and farther
away from the seasons of
life in my world
How Roger Minter Killed Jessica Fulton
Now Roger lived to love, no moment was too soon,
And he chased his tail by the light of the moon.
He had a way with the ladies that was so refined,
It made his friends plum green, oh how they whined.
But while our hero pursued the ol' downward spiral,
One lover left a permanent gift, deadly and viral.
On the other side of the spectrum, Jessica was pure,
As bright as the sunshine and so pleasantly demure.
She loved to live, a sheer opposite to Roger's way,
But our gigolo set charisma upon unsuspecting prey.
And on the night in question the two lovers merged,
His past destroyed her future where both converged.
Come round ten years later and both lives were done.
Roger from countless mistakes, Jessica from but one.
Chaos theory asserts our fates are so closely pinned,
Atlantic hurricanes have arisen from Californian wind.
But where it reigns is decision; in we know what we do.
And consequences are never random, but unfailingly true.
the sting
~Kevin Urenda
If I expose
my wounds to you
I have to expect
that sometimes
you'll have salt
on your fingers
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