Anthony Cavuoti


Loved Her So - Poem by Anthony Cavuoti

He wanted to change the world with his ideas of the archetypical portals, just like every rainbow is unique every design of a kaleidoscope is unique, we all embodied the attributes of creation in a one of a kind way, that is each of us is the universe and in the universe, and while in it in a finite embodiment we enrich it and all that we have contact with an unknown ways.
But now all that he wants to do is be with her, to be with her once again in her room. She is the universe, she has everything, she is passion, life. She's a living dynamics of the vitality of life. Once you're inside life there's no getting out, everything else is so unsatisfying.
Can no longer settle for facsimiles.
He keeps dreaming of being with her, in her room, in the dream she has two different color eyes but she doesn't in reality. One light gray, the other dark brown. Gray, gray wolf the Native American enchantress of her. Mysteries and fold experience, in ecstasy, tenderness, in food, in drinking in touching. in her heart, in her car, in her art, in her cleaning, in her smile.
He can't wait for, the title wavetitle-through the galaxies, for the next bardo, for the next incarnation, for the Phoenix.
A few days after he seen the Rolling Stones concert with his brother, he went to Venice Beach. While walking, he was captivated by the art of an artists. Beautiful works, some how capturing the increasing subtle beauty of the soul in a woman's aging face, the flagrant decay, that releases her souls mysterious powers, how passion intertwines with pathos, how a soul can be permanently stuck in Pluto's influence. Emanating in the portraits of the faces of the African-Native American women.
He kept, Thinking of her, the last time he was her. She asked him to meet her at the dry bar. that Day he was tired after working out very passionately and going down to Chinatown and buying groceries. He was about to go to sleep, call is a night she hasn't called for a few days. She called him after he relaxed and had a cigar or two, after he exhausted himself and and depleted himself with some writing. He took a little pre-workout powder or to get him some energy to make it out.
She gave him the address, directions and dyslexia do not mix, exspecially when one is tired. The lifelong flood gates are leaking can't find the place, wrong place can't find a place, can't find parking. There is the place, inside where is she, she says why you're looking down there I am right here.
I don't know why, just started scanning the bar for you, starting from the back.
She says, You should start from the front. Here is your drink. Cape Cod/ Voca and cranberry juice with some line. her dress flowes on her, caressing her, so naturally, so sexy.
Bartender looks at me.
So many misunderstandings that night.
She starts telling me how she was putting together her stationary bike and resisted calling me for help.
How she does not like driving down the street, my street, which is right next to her favorite bar. because she does not want to think of me.
This is unexpected and I am completely taken aback.
She says I tried to leave you
even when I came to your house
you just followed me out your door
You huged me
you would not leave me alone.
I got a lot of material things, but never received any validation, self-esteem was like a drop of water in the desert in my family’s atmosphere, positive reinforcement did not exist. I say this because I never really felt important in anyone's eyes
I see that I'm important in her eyes and she does not like it
My feelings are Mix I am deeply hurt inflated. yet completely deflated.
Somehow she could always do this to me, be everything to me and completely destroy me, both at same time.
I am struggling to regain my bearings, she continues.
More compound misunderstandings, about what I did Valentine's Day.
I say if you feel that way about me why are you with me.
She says I thought you were the exception.

Topic(s) of this poem: passion


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, December 5, 2015



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