Different Drums
She demanded a romantic relationship
singing the praises of white doves in flight.
He protested for the platonic friendship
harping against making love this night.
She leaned forward to kiss him
after applying light glossy lipstick.
He turned away and she missed him
her efforts trite and minus magic.
She begged him to surrender his flight
reassuring him their secret would be airtight.
After coaxing him to a motel canopy bed
he hosted the guilt of being dirt cheap.
He made a final plea to remain friends
but in actuality he saw little sleep.
She loosened his white shirt and tie
while his body hardened like stone coral.
Disillusioned to her spiteful lies
her schmoozing touch seduced his morals.
In the morning she peacefully awoke
the two snuggled in wrinkled satin sheets.
He politely smiled before cracking a joke
but his conscience racked with deceit.
She talked a lot or so it was seeming
but her shallow words lacked any meaning.
She mockingly laughed at the married guy
before shuffling off to a hot bubble bath.
His act of adultery caused a shameful cry
thus shutting the door on her cold troubled wrath.
by Joe Tornatore
Labels: poetry
posted by Joe Tornatore | 1:19 PM
6 Comments:
Remembering scenes, best left in the past, will cause agony and self-loathing and emotional defeat. Better to shed the act and absorb life's lesson that will last.
Anonymous,
If only I could somehow advise the fictional characters in my poetry. But I hear you.
Joe - with great respect for your creativity and beautiful writing, might I say that the girl is portrayed too much the villain, because afterall, the guy did succumb - and that is equally unforgivable. Agreed?
Dr.
So she isn't a V for Villain. lol. I wrote it from the man's perspective which shouldn't absolve his mistake. Regardless of gender, the heart is the hardest muscle to voluntarily control.
Dr.
Perhaps she was just too brilliant and beautiful to resist. Afterall, no means no. Don't you agree?
Joe,
How does that old soul song go?
"You can't find love on a one-way street.
It takes two to tango.
It takes two to even compete".
Something like that.
Loved the poem.
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