Collaborations

Collaboration

On occasion, it’s great to work with others. To share ideas, put your heads together and see what comes out. Here, I want to begin sharing space with others, to attempt to write separately, together, just toss things around and see where it leads. You never know.

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February 22, 2016: My first collaboration is with Kricket’s Ramblings.

When we began, we decided on turning this collaboration into a debate on whether love itself is a real “thing” or simply some chemical reaction. It turned into a poetic conversation/debate that could have carried on even longer than it did. In the end, I’m very happy with how Kricket and I were able to create not only a disagreement but a conversation within our (as we referred to it) concocted-collab. Sure, we may have gotten a bit long-winded but the debate required that we do enough back and forth that we could thoroughly debate the topic. Hope you enjoy!

“This Love”

Find all of Kricket’s Ramblings here.

He said:

The delusional set and all their constant talk of “love”

No greater lie has ever been hoisted on man than “love”

It is chemical, a mental infestation this “love”

She Said:

Exasperation meddles within controversy over such a valid emotion

struggling, balling anger with such a stubborn belief this “love”

No woman yet to abandon scoffing at the mention of chemical formulas

foot to the floor arms crossed this “love”

Fool-hearten man to misunderstand it only ruins it

He Said:

How could I ruin what has proven to be a ruse this “love”

Take a look at those who began under the guise of “love”

All those passions extinguished, dissolved from “love”

Nothing has proven to ever last less than “love”

She Said:

A ruse, this “love” a ruse you say for do you not feel the strum, the kindled flattery of “love”

Gritted teeth of frustration this “love” you argue a longing of kindred attachment,

acceptance of desire a pleasure this “love”

Open your frigid heart you just may see this “love” can ever last an eternity

He Said:

A frigid heart could only be the product of “love”

Where once was feeling and a hearth of warmth was “love”

But the expiration date came to pass for “love”

It came and went like all beloveds did “love”

What remains are cold scars left by the wounds of “love”

She Said:

“Love” is palpable don’t let a lovers scorn bind you, woe you with tainted pleasantries

Where once warmth emanated can to happen yet once again “love” is not limited

For it has no boundaries scars can be mended, wounds healed

For “love” is redeemable

He Said:

What is palpable is the littering of all the failed “loves”

What is real should last

look around at the failures of “love”

If true equals ephemeral then there is something to this “love”

But what comes so rarely only to vanish easily must surely be a myth

like “love”

She Said:

What is littered by such an emotion only thickens ones experience

quivering lip, teary eyed this “love”

For the failure can teach attainment to a triumph of the heart this “love”

A meek smile if ephemeral is equal if so easily to vanish then unjust,

influenced was that “love”

Unchasten eyes flutter fidgeting, lithe fingers myth speaks of what once was

felt this “love”

If true, certainty without eternal, in perpetuity this “love”

He Said:

When experience not emotion is littered by the failures of “love”

When quivering lip and teary eyes are caused by love”

When all beloveds vanish a mockery is made of “love”

All that is past, all that has failed was called “love”

The myth speaks loudly and the myth truly is “love”

She Said:

Brows furrowed and arms crossed

Only ones stubbornness can cause such a riff this “love”

Failure comes about from lack thereof on one side or the other that “love”

Comes about weary but with experience that “love”

Quivering lips, teary eyes not of “love” but of hurt formed by the

refusal of acceptance this “love”

Fear coincides from beloveds lost but lives on does this “love”

Intertwined in eternal fibers, myth speaks truth not in “love” but immortality is not this “love”

He Said:

Is there a him or a her that falls short of “love”

Has an emotion been trivialized by the word “love”

When so many utter emotional lies like “love”

Or are people not to blame for “love”

any feeling which can come as easily as “love”

any feeling which can fade away like “love”

must be simply a false hope

An ideal to which we cling like “love”

She Said:

All creatures fall short of “love”

This is not a means to an end of this “love”

For all emotions can succumb to tribulations of “love”

When uttered lies of “love” come about, true nature of “love” is forebode

Cast away, protected and shielded behind the belief of the nonexistence of “love”

But, this “love” is redeemable among the worthy that utter truth in their emotion of “love”

A constant bleeding wound this “love” with a need for adamant care, and with that not all are acceptable to such a task of this “love”

Causing hope of “love” to repeat a timeless loop of discharged “love”

This does not mean “love” is a forever lost hope, to believe in such a loss of hope in “love” proves one suffers from a “love” scorned by an impure, polluted host of “love”

The ideal in which we cling is merely a metaphor of what we feel is this “love”

He Said:

Either we feel or we are betrayed by “love”

It must be one or the other with “love”

But if only a metaphor is “love”

we are chasing an illusion called “love”

While we inquire and scar ourselves for “love”

this metaphor, this dream called “love”

She Said:

Manipulation of my words arms crossed, brows furrowed a sigh of annoyance not one or the other this “love”

The metaphor of “love” in which I plea is thought, confusion, temptation of “lust” of chasing illusions, the dream of “love”

Something one may crave endlessly, find themself lost, in the perception of “love”

Giving perception as though this “love” is unattainable when you assume the understanding of finding “love” you make an ass of you and me for this “love”

When in search lingers just out of reach, but fret not when this “love” comes bound all that you preach will no longer be true of this “love”

Wake and see, true “love” can definitely be

He Said:

Oh but you could almost convince me of “love”

But this thing, this feeling called “love”

comes and goes reaching expiration, losing its effect

Could it be that “love” comes and fades over time

could it be that “love” is all in the mind?

When I find that “love” can be truly eternal, then I will believe in “love”

She Said:

A fluttered twitch of the eye, staring up into darken orbs..I do not wish to convince you, merely shine a light down upon the darken hues of your shattered vision of this “love”

This thing? This feeling in which swells beneath a ripened soul, a beating chest is the cause and the affect of this so called “love”

That of which you deny expiration, fading only comes about when effort is tossed away, significance controlled by a metaphor of a broken and bored “love” affair, replaced with a lone soul, searching for the truth in this “love”

Team work, a duo is this “love”, taking not just one, but two souls, dedication, time and equal amounts of effort to make this “love” eternal

Forever infinite is this “love”

An aching heart, a bruised soul, a torn believer of this “love” proves victim of a broken heart, a “lover” scorned

That ache, that hole you feel deep down, is an eternal “love” broken, waiting, begging for a “love” so deep, so righteous, that it mends and heals this “love”

Fingers splayed over a powerful beat this “love”

Not only in the mind, the soul or heart but within me, exists this “love”, eternally infinite

He Said:

Yes I ache. Yes I am bruised and badly torn by “love”

But this thing in which you choose to believe, this “love”

real or not sounds like work and anything real should not require effort and work

If “love” is a reality and not some chemical imbalance

then it must surely be eternal and not ephemeral

If “love” requires resuscitation

then it is far too demanding to be worthwhile and in that case

I require something more lasting and far more real than “love”

She Said:

Doe like eyes, blinking with astonishment.. Do not all things in life, require work?

If all believe in “love” being dispensed unreservedly, then what special significance would this “love” embody?

Does anger, sadness, resentment not count as an eternal responsiveness that too can come and go, fade and become ephemeral?

All things must reach a phase of resuscitation for without, nothing would newly flourish, nothing would surely bloom and wonted settles in and ennui becomes inevitable

Everything worthwhile requires some sort of effort eternal, infinite “love” is not a source that thrives without vindication or servitude and to believe otherwise is pure absurdity and poppycock.

Crosses arms and scoffs.. You require a swift kick in the ass, for “love” can be platonic or physical, but all requires execution of effort

“Love” is real, thus why we break and crumble when “love” is lost

He Said:

To be real, to be worthwhile, it must be effortless

For “love” to hold meaning, to be real, it should just be for “love”

To demand work, to require resuscitation, it loses all validity

For “love” to be anything other than a task, a burden, it must just happen

for “love” should consume, burn eternally and without punching a clock

Any “love” that desires, that requires anything more than emotion

anything further than the heart, loses all meaning

But “love” always asks that we try harder, work harder and therefore

this “love” we debate, is either ineffectual or myth

For something always seems to be the death knell for “love”

She Said:

Roll of the eyes with a heavy sigh and shake of the head.. To believe anything should be effortless is your first mistake

For any “love”, even friendship and family require work you silly man

You will forever be “loveless” with such a lethargic, unpersevering outlook on what any “love” should be or possibly could be

“Love” is just “love”

“Love” is not a choice

Irrational, unpredictable, exciting, terrifyingly exposing is a “love”

Twitch of the eye, annoyance flickering an a wisp of a hand.. “love” is flawed and never happens the same way twice

Validity is and will always only be to an extent of your inner effort, you control the legitimacy or impotence of any “loves” strength with your effort or the lack thereof

Falling in “love” is effortless, falling out of “love” can be inferior or it can be preferential

Regardless of arguments sake, “love” just may be hopeless

A shrug of the shoulders… you will eventually consume those words for yes, any “love” coup de grace

He Said:

There is much difference between friends or family and being in “love”

To find that one, that only one and then to fall in “love” comes without effort

So does falling out of “love”

There may be issues, there may be problems

but “love” should remain, should never fade

that “love” can die on the vine with no effort

makes “love” ineffectual, a nasty myth

For “love” to be all it claims, it must happen, it must remain

even when the times are at their worst and without assuming a new vocation that “love”

claims more than it is makes “love” no more than myth

She Said:

Annoyed with a discontent sigh… no matter the argument, no matter the margin, set in your ways you have faltered

No matter the difference of any “love”.. friend, family, lover, it all amounts to taking more than one soul to bare, more than one to produce, to polish any significance of partnership

Head hung, defeat lining ones face… uncompromising your belief, unswayable is not any “love” to be accepted

Eyes half open and gazing through shaded spectacles is your “myth”

Bitter and shattered your arctic heart, in circles you preach and no longer can I implore or beseech

For any “love” is not practical, but it can be the ultimate euphoria

He Said:

Neither you nor I will agree

That “love” is either true or forced vocation

that “love” has staying power or leaves in a rush

Perhaps we can agree that if either of us feels the strum of the heart’s strings

that we will pay particular attention to that instrument

to determine if the sounds we are hearing are the true calling

of this so called “love”

She Said:

Compromises can be made, understanding will formulate, agreeing to merely disagree

That “love” shall remain a mystery

If perhaps a tug occurs playing a melody, how am I to place into words that of which will not formulate a mythical story?

Words are argumentative, actions speak louder, truer and luminous than any belief foretold of an indisputable, unerring “love”

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