Poem, Jealousy & Irony 4-7-2011

Part cloudy part sunny,

both doom and delight,

a love has been given

for one who deals slights,

to innocent beings

who think they can stay

with just one person everyday.

I've heckled and jabbed

at their starstruck expressions

foreseeing the difficult

snares of perfection.

As nothing stays as 

something starts, 

it always deteriorates to

competing smarts.

One thinks they are this

and the other is that,

but each only wants

what they dutifully combat.

Jealousy is coveting

what another is getting,

and the jealous soul longs for

that very strong brewing 

of desire and favoring 

they too once knew,

by the other who is seeking

to add to their stew,

of love and affection

to spice things up now,

and prolong the agony

of the monogamous show.

The person who sparked this,

the jealousy of,

did not mean to cause pain,

but supplement so,

the plodding foretelling

of their straight worn path,

and know again what it's like

to take a long bath,

in the lingering admiration,

the warm glow of wow,

am I really that much

of a prize I'm not sure?

The love and acceptance

of each is not immune,

from accepting this also

as a dutiful tune,

of high notes and low ones,

designed to hold balance,

the jealousy wrangles

our chi into talents,

to gain back the energy,

or throw in the towel.

The splitting of built dreams,

the smoothing by trowel,

of the concrete reparations

to the newly split soul.

--EVE