Posted in Blogfest Entries, Coffee and Conversation, Just for Fun!, Life Writing, Love Is In Da Blog, My Poetry, Parenting, Sexuality and Erotica

Coffee, Conversation, and #LoIsInDaBl Day 9: A Not So Level Tribute

Grab a cuppa and a comfy seat, and let’s chat a while! It’s time for Coffee and Conversation!

When I was six, my family was driving on a highway late at night. Streaks of headlights and taillights painted the dark. For the first time, I realized that each car held people living lives as important to them as mine was to me.

I wanted to know what those lives were, and to share my own..

Do you celebrate Valentine’s Day?

My Accomplice and I have pretty much stopped buying material gifts on the days the calendar marks as “special”. Over the last year or two, we’ve spent more time, year-round, honoring one another in smaller, more consistent ways. Things like respecting one another’s need for quiet or personal time or connection.

Put a Little Love in Yours!
Put a Little Love in Yours!

Today, at Love Is In Da Blog , Bee  prompted us to write a tribute, perhaps a haiku or something short, to our significant other.

This poem isn’t particularly short, but it’s nonetheless an honest, autobiographical tribute to my Accomplice, and to the nearly eighteen years we’ve been together. I wrote it last October, for OctPoWriMo – but it’s perfect for today, so here it is again – as my first #LoIsInDaBl poem post.

Lava Lake, Gallatin National Forest, Montana. The trail kept going up the mountain, but this is where we camped.

It Levels Off Up Ahead”

“It levels off up ahead,” you said,

As we hiked toward Lava Lake

Love can be like that trail,

Winding up and up

Strenuous, taxing,

Fraught with dangers

Like the bears

In the Montana wilds

The obstacles and the

Rough places of life.


Bliss is the thing we expect, maybe

When we give ourselves over to love

What we want is the glory

Consuming everything but

Each other

Those long wild nights

When it’s lovemaking

And talking

And touching

And more touching

More talking

And a lot more

Making love.


Blinded by emotion

By hope and raw desire

Hunger and need

And the dreams

That wrap us round

Tighter and tighter

Cocooning us in

A webbing of unity

With no room left

For the world beyond

Or the future

Or even



Honeymoon fights

As reality solidifies

I want to go to the

Aquarium – you don’t

We fight, I cry, you win

Later, in Kingman AZ

Reality a vise, a leghold trap

teeth at my throat

I left the car, walked out

Nighttime desert

Scorches with truth

Hot and relentless

In every heated breath

“I can’t believe

I married you!”

Words sharper than

Agave thorns.


Euphoria is a bubble

A cloud a wave

Something that ebbs

And rises anew

Like switchbacks, and

the steep broken path

Up the side of a


Leading to the

Treasure of a

Hidden blue lake

A place to rest and renew

But the path winds up, still

It never did level off up ahead

Not on that trip anyway

And we chose not to climb

Higher that day, but to

Find peace with our descent

And delve the lower places

Within and between us.


Annoyed too often and for too long

A seething lava pit beneath

The surface of our love

And our shared lives

Boiling over like a geyser

Rumbling and rending

Poisoning the waters

Upheaval at the roots

Like a fallen sequoia

Or Sedona’s red rocks

The schisms and rifts

Whenever we didn’t



Bewildered by new identity

Mommy and Daddy – who, us?

To suddenly be the ones

Responsible for his life

His health his laughter

And far too many early tears

Frustrations, rages, his and ours

The trips and stumbles

along the path

Many unseen dangers

Lurking like Montana bears

Hidden by glacial boulders

Shadows in the wild places

In the world, in ourselves

Jagged edges that threaten

This fragile being, our son

Our love blended and grew

Glowing in baby blue eyes

Eyes fixed on us.


Grief grabs us, squeezes, clenches

You hold our secondborn so gently

As the monitors slow, ssllooww


You hold him for another hour

Squeezing and clenching

Shock of sorrow

Piercing reality

This isn’t a level place

This is trauma, soul deep

Black clouds, gaping void

Empty clothes, empty crib

Empty arms, empty womb

We cling together and

Fill what we can.


Joy isn’t always held in

Those leveling off spots

It’s like the sudden grin

Our daughter’s dancing eyes

Child born from tragedy

Force of nature

Like that climbing path

So long ago

Joy is a flower



And not really the point

Of this hike, this life

Lived together

It’s the rainbow

The squeals of laughter

The moments in firelight

In desert mountains

In caves and scuba gear

Touch and taste of you

Quickening my heart

Binding me tighter with

Spidersilk webbing

Tensile strength and



It’s always been

About the


What’s your love story? Have you ever set it to music or poetry? Captured it in images?  It’s snowy outside, but snug and cozy in here.  Won’t you have another cuppa, and share with us?

The path ahead still isn’t level…but so worth it!

You can find more Week 2 posts here (add link when available) – and, if you’d like to get more of that lovin’ feelin’, join in with your own take! =D


I am myself. I own my life, and live with three other people who own theirs. My intention is to do only those things that bring me joy, and to give myself wholly to those things I do. Writing has been my passion throughout my life, and this will become the home for my writing life...because it brings me great joy!

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