Complications of Love

Leave me to my own advances,
The disenchantment of failed romances.
I felt her thoughts, I felt the passion.
But friends and lovers are out of fashion.
Feelings are a thing for masking.
You hold those questions you feel like asking.
You wish there was an easier way,
To say the things you want to say.
And this crush can hold some complications,
But you know its your obligation.
To say a prayer, remove your mask,
And ask the things you wish to ask.

Daughter Of The Fallen

Fathers drinking in the Kitchen,
And mothers crying in the living room.
I am constantly praying,
Hoping death comes and takes them soon.

Life holds nothing new for them,
They fight the same bout everyday.
Mother acts oblivious.
And father drinks the pain away.

I find myself feeling betrayed.
Is this the way a child’s raised?
I hope they can finally find happiness,
When their both dead and decayed.

And one day I will escape from this.
This gloom, regret, and hopelessness.
And one day my life will be seen as,
A much better one than my parents had.

OUR GARDEN

I had to turn back

The patterns of frequencies

By flying off the handle

So I could be considered normal

Just as a puppy learns

To make extravagant claims

I try to meditate

Through the patterns “that” frustrate

Like a constant storm

I navigate conditioned impulses

Slowing these rockets falling

With soothing music so compelling

Our revealed garden

Sparks chirping bird’s hearts

Flowers dance in this landscape

And romance has found a new escape

11-12-11

This was written at HCMC on 11-1-11 when I went back to give LOVE to hospital.  Don’t worry – I knew what He was doing through me this time.  

Hey Anna Love,

I LOVE YOU!!!

Thinking Of You

Thinking of you
turns
my blood to fire
and
I am all lit up
Restless
Wanting
in my bed
when
I should be in yours
Yes
Right now
Lips touching
Tongues dancing
Bodies meshing
Heat blending with heat

Come to me
Now
Bring me to your bed
End this waiting
this torment
Fill me up with you
Now
Please
Come to me

copyright 20 October 2011 Catherine Anne Hayes

Canadians

They’re so polite.
Hiding in reserve I’m sure
of nothing about their true
feelings toward us.

Covered in resolve
to see all their families
whole, even the Frenchified
& that British oriented lot

that hail the Queen.
The beer is sublime,
& taxes prime the coverage
of all in medical care,

so there.  I love
the tee shirt, on the front:
“what’s the definition of a Canadian?”
on the back:  “an unarmed American

with healthcare!”  And,
also I love you,
Alice Munro!

p.s.-if any of these “Thuglicans” win
the ’12 presidential election, I’m Canadian!

a clean, civil society not at war with anyone

Old Quebec

We occupy the time it takes
to discover how to live a life:

confinement, searches, empty boxes,
trails, fresh fruit, the gift you riff on,

and on while something closes
way too soon, the deck tilts, missing cards.

Then coming up for air in an ancient city,
cobblestones shining in light rain refreshes
the palate.

The boombox in the sunglasses store
drove us on to the bistros & bars.

On the plastered windows a language spoke
of what I could only imagine: Rimbaud muttering
to himself.

Past tense continues to slog in the shadows
while about to arrive holds off the message.

I wait for you to grasp the gist of experience
to pull the rabbit from the hat & save us.

Everywhere we are all tourists and have aged
the land with collateral damage.

We march, sing, cry into the wilderness
carrying our sorrow before us, trashing
the remaining Caesars.

Yet quiche Lorraine in a deli on Avenue Cartier
as the rain ceases
soothes the spirit, lets much fall away if only
for a sliver of time.

Middle of The Night Musings

The Middle of the night
and I am awake again
Restless
Changes
so many, many changes
that are going to happen
it is good that they are happening
but
some I am not ready for
and
some I am hurt and scarred deeply by
Changes
They must happen
I am scared
but they must happen
Life goes on
I must go on
I do not want to live this life anymore
I can’t anymore
It hurts too much
It chokes me
Drowns me
Drags me down
I want to be free
Free from hurt
Free from bounds
Free from screaming voices
I want to live again
I want to feel alive again
I want to be myself again

copyright 10/12/2011 catherine anne hayes

In the Garden of Dreams

I do not know how
to argue in this language

with traction that grasps at
straws as the clouds race by.

The summer peppers are late
for lack of heat. The closing
shadows slow all growth.

We plant a thought to bring
forth a story nurtured by the spring
of ongoing lust. How

to take the soil as what
we have & grow in it
lasts many seasons

with you flowering all
around our garden. It’s
never done. The harvest varies

from year to year. We mature
& stay steadfast.

I continue to walk out
on the limb with you.

He Went To Jared

I was in a hurry the moment I met her in more ways then one. I even filled my car up with a full tank of kerosene at the gas station by mistake rushing to spend another day with who I thought was to be the love of my life. Violet Starr was the most beautiful troubled woman I had ever wanted to be with and I went to great lengths showing her how deeply I needed to be loved by her. This was no ordinary love, but in the end all of my infatuation and obsession to rescue this damsel in distress was really the spring point of reinventing me to be a better man in my future relationships.
My love or what I thought was true love for this thin 26 year old blue-eyed blonde had me in a whirlwind of chaos and complete desperateness to receive her kiss. It was never about getting laid for me because for two years this 35 year old lost puppy of a man followed her around without ever mentioning having sex with her. I was ready to begin a change in my life and when her 10 month old baby daughter called me daddy for the first time, my heart just melted and the first signs of becoming too happy began to show to family and friends around me at the time.
The first time I met Violet was when a buddy of mine made a call to score us some speed. She jumped into the back seat of my borrowed Grand Voyager to party with us and immediately our eyes locked together in the rear-view mirror as I drove and listened to her soul. It wasn’t long after until we would spend every moment together getting high and talking about quitting meth. We shared something in common when it came to freeing our spirits from this horrible drug. I was the only drug addict friend that was allowed to spend time over at her parent’s home where she lived on Grey Cloud Island in Cottage Grove, Minnesota and I was allowed a few sleepovers as long as we were in separate rooms. This really was Violet’s choice since her heart belonged to little Anne’s biological father who had beaten Violet severely months prior to me meeting her. He had left her for dead in a ditch on the side of a dirt road, yet she always continued to be drawn to him on and off throughout our duration. I wish I could say relationship, but no matter how much she appeared to have some love for me, it was always somewhat clear to me that I would only be the nice guy that finishes last. The in-between guy her parent’s wanted her to be with and maybe marry someday.
Her parents approved of me over the other riffraff that would sneak around to Violet’s back door maybe because after twenty years of working in the security field and mowing their lawn now and then, I showed them the same respect as I did to the public I worked for to make a decent living. Over time, I’ve learned that you really can’t have it both ways if you want your love to be true. It wasn’t until a social service worker took Violet’s sweet baby away that we needed to make a serious change in our lives to get Anne back and we did. Violet ended up in a Teen Challenge program for addicts and I went back to my life clean and sober thinking I would never heard from her again. That happiness I had being with her never faded even to this day, but I knew I had to stay focused on something good like staying on the straight and narrow. I kept the fate that we’d be together again someday without drugs and the cesspool of drug addict people we used to hang out with.
I was going on six months drug-free when the phone rang on New Year’s Eve, 2005. Violet drove over with an old beat-up car leaking gas with Anne and her first child, Tommy, a ten year old boy that took a liking to me she had with her high school sweetheart that had died from having a small heart. Doctor’s cancelled this young man’s heart transplant when they discovered marijuana in his system. I think that was when Violet’s life really began to take a turn for the worse and it wasn’t my place to fix it, but I tried anyways by being her best friend again, but sober this time. I even gave her my fairly new car my parents helped me buy since I was still being enabled at my age. Then my grandmother who loved Violet and her kids very much gave me her vehicle the Grand Voyager when she learned what I did for Violet. This caused a huge riff within my family which didn’t seem to bother me at all because I was extremely happier than ever having Violet back to some degree.
When I awoke the next morning on New Year’s Day after spending the evening at Camp Snoopy at the Mall of America with Violet and the kids, I knew something was different with me. Besides having the most vivid amazing dream in my life that lead me to posting pictures from magazines and cutting out positive power words within them including hanging up songs and poetry I wrote there was an ineffable energy flowing through me beyond any drug I had ever taken. Violet thought I was getting high again and so did the police when my mother had called them. Three weeks into that eccentric January of my life, I was told by doctors that I was too happy. The so-called medical term was bipolar disorder and they told me I would crash so I was given by force dangerous medications which drove me completely insane. I was in and out of psychiatric care for the following year fighting the system and losing touch with everyone around me including the woman of my dreams. My happiest day in my life was no longer meeting Violet; it was winning one of three court cases against my well-being and the fraud of psychiatry. To this day, I blame no one for what happened to me including myself. Things happen for a reason and there are people we meet along the way.
It took me some time to calm down enough without force meds to reconnect with Violet. Time had passed and she put on a lot of weight which didn’t bother me at all. I had been heavy most of my own life so I accepted and loved her unconditionally. I knew I wanted to be with her and grow old together raising her children. After my extraordinary experience and ordeal, my credit score was starting to get affected from defaulting on credit cards mainly from being locked up in a psych ward for three months without working or paying bills. The only card that I hadn’t been using to live off of through this madness and still had seven grand on it was the galleria of jewelry – my Jared credit line.
I picked out the biggest diamond ring nearly maxing out my Jared card and raced over to Violet’s new apartment the social service worker helped her get. I was very excited with what I was about to do, but I remained calm and waited until after we had dinner. Violet was washing the dishes and I was coloring with little Anne on the floor in the living room when I decided to go for it. I gave Anne the jewelry box with the ring in it and told her to give this to mommy. A few moments passed in dead silence. I got up and went to the kitchen getting down on one knee. Before I could even ask if Violet would marry me, she informed me of her pregnancy with Anne’s father and would have another girl.
After hours of tears and a sleepless night, I went back to the Jared Jewelry store the next day to return the item purchased. They were very nice to me and even mailed me a sympathy card later that week. If it wasn’t for my experience with Violet Starr years ago, I would have never paid $300 to get my gas tank drained of kerosene fuel oil. This may be a certain level of love most people would regret, but not for me. It’s just the beginning for more love to spring spontaneously from within.

2012 – Actor Rich Love Coming Soon!
www.doyoufeartheunknown.com (VOICE)