Is This Not Chemistry?

“We have chemistry, don’t you think?” she asks of him

He eyes her for a moment then flashes her a grin

“Indeed, we do, for you matter, to an extent you cannot fathom

I’m in my element around you, you’ve gone to the core of me, my atom

I am not a man of compound tastes, composed for the love of two

for even when your force discourages me, I’d rather covalent bond with you

The amount of substance you have cannot be measured by a mole

You are the multi-pole balance for this oscillating soul.

I can tell by your reaction that also for you, this is not a phase,

I could walk around with the kinetic energy your ‘motions give me – for days.

Your words always give me food for thought, gracing my peritoneum

so tell me if you’ll be mine always, have we reached an equilibrium?”

 

A pause. Awed and  cheerfully confused, she laughs and says “I hate science but I love you

He holds her hand and kisses her repeatedly, saying “that will do, that.will.do!”

 

 

“Bold, Outgoing Workers Needed”

and what if I turned the world upside-down

to give myself a chance

for the working world to see the aptitude of my stance?

For words have always been pitted against us 

in “either” and “or”

you’re either confident and sturdy

or self-doubting, weak, unworthy…

They want you to be self-assured yet they steal your self

Telling you that being soft-spoken and reserved is a malady to be cured.

and you believe, why not, outside the comfort zones they chatter in success

and you focus on exorcising your demons the way you know best:

Medication, procrastination…merely entrails luring and feeding anxiety,

that lurking fear of being seen as offbeat in a chorused society.

In that down-upside no one seems to understand

that the reticence on your lips is not in your hands –

or in your mind which nurses a thousand stories and novelties ready to take their first steps and unfold

But they insist on shutting them down with eyes so coaled.

Offering no warmth of good faith in your fumbling fervour,

Eyes of pitying disapproval pushing you further

To withdraw, resent and smother

Your optimism, sense of direction and tacit conviction –

But let me be the judge of my own “affliction”

To say to myself, no pressure, I am who I am and who I am is not always who I will be.

Let me change without agitation, try on that loose-fitting tranquility.

Leg space enough to acknowledge that productivity might not follow the contours of every body the same.

 Whether I scream it from the mountain or whisper it, you will know my name.

So without ill feeling, I’ll scroll past those monotonous “Workers Needed” posts for introspection has given me the vision they scarcely had:

THE RULES OF IMPACT ARE NEVER IRONCLAD 

men-311308_960_720.png

“Then She Knew”

Upon the door of her mind

He knocks.

Forcing his way in with naked desire,

Sweet nectar to fruition.

His taut diction widening her intellect…

teasing her imagination

and wetting her senses.

Erratic rhythms roaming

uncharted, voluptuous valleys…

Then she felt it:

The honeyed climax.

the gasp of inspiration,

the clenching of wits,

the pleasure of orgasmic looting

and the repose of coupling.

She left a trail of red lines on the broadsheet,

evidence of her enlightenment.

Then she knew….

Language had invaded her structure,

giving birth to a poet.

when-we-were-young-stefan-kuhn

THE LONGING

 

 

full-moon-595654_960_720

Wolves howl.

As if in mockery of my internal anguish

Arouse the echoing walls of my heart.

Oh! How the abyss aches from suppressed feelings –

Uncertain possibilities…

For if it has been proven that flawed has won perfection,

I with newfound voice would sound my soul like a wolf under moonlight.