The name of this painting is Love. It is a retirement present for my cousin.
They were delighted with the way it turned out, and so am I. They are a beautiful couple and I enjoyed painting them. I worked from several photos which I took both at the retirement party and later at my home.
Hiding the Hyde
by June Nash
.
through this life I slide
by hiding the Hyde
that’s my ugly side
.
Only beauty see
Your the one for me
Your my remedy
.
I do not reveal
the me that is real
that is how I deal
.
I know the true you
By the things you do
From my point of view
.
this face isn’t mine
on a mask you dine
on my own I’m fine
.
Perfection not seek
Just allow me a peek
Won’t think you a freak
.
when I lower veil
let you cast your spell
your scorn would be hell
.
I will see your mind
A heart that is kind
To your faults be blind
.
but you don’t know me
of what you could see
so go away I plea
.
Together we’ll slide
My Jekyll, your Hyde
You’re my other side
.
This poem was inspired by the book Player One, written by Ernest Cline. My book club is currently reading this book. I’m half way through, so I don’t know how it all ends.
The characters meet online as avatars. They only know each other as the characters they created.
But isn’t that true of life? All we really know about each other is what we are willing to reveal.
Love’s Call
by June Nash
.
He called, enthralled, cannot wait
Looking forward to the date
Unaware of tomorrow
And broken plans to follow
.
Dreams of love in blissful sleep
Unknowing what day will reap
Clock ticking, seems well oiled
Sweet clicking, ‘til plans foiled
.
Hopes of caressing love’s face
Squashed by unkind frenzied pace
No hug, no touch, just a call
Salty tear drop starts to fall
Being Stood Up Again
He said he’d come, be there by two.
Did not show, now what should she do?
Maybe he is just running late.
If so, perhaps, she needs to wait.
–
Sent him a text, then made a call.
No response, no answer at all.
Left a message, one not so nice
Happened before, this makes it thrice.
–
Treated like this, it’s an insult.
Poor relationship is result.
Never again will have a chance,
To stand her up, that is her stance.
–
She loves him still, wishes he’d call.
Sad to see how far they can fall.
To be in his life can’t refuse.
It is her son causing the blues.
June Nash
Soft Monkey
Baboon knocking upon door.
Don’t want him ‘round any more!
Rascal peeking through window.
Sees me anxious, he must know.
Hard time coping, want him near.
Need the comfort he brings here.
–
With apathy, cast off bane.
He brings relief, yet causes pain.
Maybe could find a new pet.
Mere substitutes so far met.
Others enjoy fox or mink.
Soft monkey fur fits my kink.
–
Time for leaving, head’s abuzz.
Reminders of what once was.
Cannot forget when he’s near.
Time for leaving, good bye dear.
I’ll be hurting, missing link.
Soft monkey fur fits my kink.
June Nash
I wrote this about my soft addiction. A soft addiction could be any thing from playing too many computer games, to relationships with people that are not working out. Either way, you are torn between needing them, and the realization that they are bad for you.
The weekly writing challenge, on WordPress, challenges blog writers to write on a weekly topic. This poem was originally scheduled for Saturday morning. I am moving today’s post to Saturday so I can submit this poem, today, to the challenge. Wish me luck!
June Nash 