Please accept my invitation
Come in, sit down, and rest awhile
Bare yourself clean
And I will do the same
Show me your stripes
What you’ve hidden deep inside
For isn’t that why you came?
The sky above is so blue today
Not a cloud to be found
And the weathers so warm
thank god the rain stayed away.
I remember the cold rain
Fell hard upon my cheeks
The day my father died.
I thought he’d live forever.
Walk me down the aisle.
I made the best dish the other day
Got the recipe from a friend
You really should try it.
Curry tikka masala
I think they call it
I don’t eat curry anymore
Not since the night my husband
Took me by the throat
I swear I love my dog, cat, bird
Even my parakeet .
Don’t know where I’d be
without my furry menagerie
they’re my kids.
I can’t have children.
Not since tumors ate my womb
Left me barren
Have you ever been to Paris?
I was just there
Saw the Mona Lisa
Stood atop the Eiffel Tower
You really should go.
Yes you should go.
I see now we speak
Very different languages
You talk of weather, food,
pets and travel
Boogie boogie par par
But I want to know if you ever feel hallow?
I want to know what you’re willing to die for?
Tell me one thing none knows.
Show me your soul
And I will call you friend.
Otherwise there’s the door.
DCTdesigns Creative Canvas 
I have not successfully conveyed emotions in poetry. It is an artform that I highly respect. You, in this piece, have shared such imagery. The message reaches in, shakes the soul, and then releases you back to the world.
Wonderful piece. Thank you for sharing.
-Jerry B
Wow! That is quite a compliment. I’m taking poetry writing up again. I have enjoyed the challenge.
Okay, I absolutely loved the extremes on this — and what that illustrates. I love the shocking little lines like “I don’t eat curry anymore, not since the night my husband took me by the throat” in response to casual conversation about food. I am an intense person to know — I think sometimes I am one of the loneliest people I know as well because I absolutely lack the skill of chit chat. Sure, I can talk shit and talk movies and books and TV, but sooner or later, even that talk will turn into a “and how does that make you FEEL” conversation, and then I alienate most people. Human contact seems such a rare commodity.
This is the very impetus for writing this poem. A very rare commodity. One that has made me too feel lonely. I am, as my friends like to call me, the deep end of the pool. You better be ready to jump in. I find so few people willing to look inside themselves and share their true vulnerabilities and feelings, God forbid! But for me this is the type of intimacy that makes life worth living. It is what turns me on about people.
It hurts my head sometime. Secret confession time: sometimes I wish I could turn it off — that I could just not care; not look so deeply into things; be superficial. It might make life easier. But then, I think I’d hate myself.
I understand. I really do. But there is a certain point in conscious evolution you can no longer go backwards to the innocent cocoon of unawareness. But I truly do understand the desire for an off valve.
It was nice talking to you today, darling — drop by any time.