It Is You


O fond remembrance,
Goes here,
With wistful images of childhood,
The lingering sun of spring,
Or perhaps a warm winter fire,
A blackberry bush,
A dog,
Your mother,
Brother,
Other.

Yes, you saw but did not know.
Now you know and see
Through melancholy tint,
In veiled memory.
All your days have come to this,
This enshrined vision of a time,
A day,
Or perhaps a moment,
Goes here,
Your illuminated moment.

O long unrealized realization,
Goes here.
The simple joy,
The profound regret,
Or perhaps both,
And yet,
Something remains,
Something mysterious,
Unspoken yet large,
The lump in the throat,
The wistful tear,
Goes here.

It is you
Who makes this poem,
All the poems you hold near,
It is you.


~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved


~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

My Love Asks Nothing


My love asks nothing of you.
My love is its own reward,
And punishment.

If you do not love me
My love will leave you alone
And I will continue to feel great pleasure,
Great pain.


~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Love Is Hard


Love is hard.

Sadness is easy,
You can do it all by yourself.

Love is hard.


~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Our Stories ~ They Will Not Burn


We lost everything in the fire,
Every thing,
All our mementoes,
Our objects,
Each one containing a memory.

So now,
In a dingy room in a dingy motel,
We put the pieces of our lives back together.
We don’t need objects to prompt our memories.
All our memories are ready to be awakened.

And so,
We sit in the dark,
Telling stories,
So many stories.
We could spend the rest of our lives
Telling our stories.

We've already begun.


~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

That One Precious Word


Dear one,
When your life is full of tears,
When love is ripped from your heart
And there is no one,
No one you can tell,
Really tell,
Know you are not alone,
For I too have cried,
I too have stumbled and fallen
When the weight of the world was too great to bear.

Dear one,
Let us join in spirit,
In recognition,
And give each other strength.

We are the wounded ones of the world
Yet we must endure,
We must hold on to that one precious word,
Hope.


~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved