LOVE IS A PUZZLE

I dreamt...

I said: Love is a puzzle!

She said: No, love is not a puzzle. It's simple!

I said: No, it's not simple. It's a puzzle.

She said: Why do you think that love is a puzzle?

I said: Because I can't figure it out.

She said: Good-bye!

I said: Don't go.

She said: I have to go now.

I said: Why?

She said: Because you need time to yourself to figure out your puzzle.

I said: The soul is far too complicated for simple solutions!

She said: I know you really feel that way; that's why I'm leaving now.

I said: What can I do to change your mind?

She said: Nothing! This time is over. This time has past.

I said: We'll never see it, again?

She said: Not with me you won't. Maybe with another, if you stop thinking so much and just accept life for what it is.

I said: What is the acceptance of life for what it is?

She said: I have to go now. Bye.

I said: Bye. Good luck. God Bless! -whispering to myself- I love you.

Then the dream disappeared, forever.
And it hurt to see the vision vaporized into thin air.

Awake, I thought to myself:
The day will come when I will write in the context of
the happiness of love
instead of these emotional disappointments.

Looking towards the Heavens...
I could feel the change in the air.
I must let it embrace me.
Without fight or anything to say.

Michael C. Teniente
November 25, 2011
Los Angeles, CA. 90004

THE TROUBLE IS, I KNOW WHY...

If a man will not occupy himself with a task,
a life's task,
of course, he'll be depressed.

I know that.
I've known that for some time
and, yet, I fiddle with depression all the time.

Poetry really doesn't put an end to the depression.
It's a substitute for something else that I must do.

I take months off from writing...
It never fails!
Only when the depression kicks in
then, and only then, do I write the commandments.

Jesus is my savior.
He made me a writer.
I have no other salvation.

lol!

Everything else is a pretense of life for me.
My task is to write what I've been given
and if I don't
the trouble is, depression;
and I know why.

Don't cry for me.
I'll get up, again -I've done it a thousand times-.
And I'll learn to focus -I do it now and then-.
on my life's task.

I'm just an undisciplined fool.

Right now, I'm depressed -My folly bites-.
I can feel it in my heart.
But, I also know how to fight it.
Find a task!
A meaningful task.
Or find myself a woman
and make her miserable.

I don't want to cheat her out of a happy life
just to avoid my spiritual responsibilities.

I need a help-mate.
The trouble is:
who's gonna believe what I have on my hands?
How do I share what I have with someone I'm interested in?
God needs to do his part, too.

By: Michael C. Teniente
November 23, 2011
Los Angeles, CA. 90004

LOVE re-visitied:

Love,
to me, only to me,
strictly to me,
is a theory, an idea,
that I wanted so badly
that I convinced myself that I was in love
with a girl that represented that idea
in my head.

I don't blame myself
because I want to love,
and to be loved.

I just don't want the emotional mixture
that comes along with it.
I want peaceful love,
quiet love,
joyful love.
Passionate love?
Passionate yes,
volatile love...no!
I don't think so.

Damn, just the idea of holding hands
with someone that I'm attracted to;
that's all I really wanted to do.
It was only an idea.
A painful idea because she said no.

Allowing my mind to float, now,
I have to ask myself:
Are you happy?

That's my love's eternal question,
always...
Are you happy?

Everyday, in the morning,
wouldn't I have asked you:
Are you happy?

And if you would have said no,
wouldn't I have asked:
what can I do to make you happy?
It's a peaceful, idealistic, theory.
Are you happy?
I want to be happy, too.

God, where is my happiness?
I guess, if I smiled more
it would help.
I'm really not a bad guy,
but, I guess, no one really knows that.
I really should smile more.

Ask me, now:
Are you happy?
And I will answer truthfully.
To be by myself?
Not really.
But, I'm not depressed, either.
But, I think I could cry.
Yes, let me cry for a little while.
Because it is painful.

OK, that was short but thunderous!
I had to do it.
OK, now let me dry these tears from my eyes.
Let me breathe a little easier.

Now, let me ask:
God, Jesus,
am I not your child?

"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find;
knock and the door will be opened to you.
For everyone who asks receives;
he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks,
the door will be opened."

Father, God, Jesus...
Please,
I'm asking for my happiness
manifested in my theory of love.

I want to be happy, too.
I don't want to cry, anymore.
Won't you save me from this painful heart?

Who'll ask me...
If I'm happy?

Damn, just the idea of holding hands
with someone that I'm attracted to;
that's all I really want to do.
It's only an idea;
hopefully, a happy idea.

By: Michael C. Teniente
November 22, 2011
Los Angeles, California 90004

Where Art Thou, Mine Fairest Beloved

O' thou wile-est Cupid

how is it that thou hast fastened thine attention

upon the arrow,

it seems, that thou whittle out from

the stem of a rose red flower?

Aimed from thine o' so mysterious dwelling,

targeting mine heart,

to pierce mine very own soul.

Falling, in obeisance,

wherein is all for me but to

close mine eyes

envisioning the grace of which is the throne of Heaven,

from whence I shouldest submit in supplication

but for a path, should it be difficult or nay, 
to follow,

wherein I shouldest encounter

mine own heart’s one desire;

victim of that o' thou wile-est Cupid

and the bow.

Opening mine eyes,

to mine feet arise,

humbly dignified by Heaven’s grace,

looking to the ground; what is this

that I shouldest cast mine eyes upon?

Couldeth it be?

A bestowed upon petals rose red trail,

which I shouldest travel, with mine companion faith,

that it shouldest lead to the heart

of mine fairest beloved.

Where art thou, mine fairest beloved?

© February 13, 2011 Michael C. Teniente. Los Angeles, CA.

WORDS ARE A DIME A DOZEN

Because, all I  really want to say
is that I love you.

© January 30, 2011. Michael C. Teniente in Los Angeles, CA.