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SUSAN JOHNSTON OWEN-JAZZ  /  SITE OWNER/MUSICIAN, WRITER,ARTIST, ELEMENTARY AND SPECIAL EDUCATION TEACHER (RETIRED)

PLEASE-SPREAD THE WORD ABOUT THIS SITE

 SEARCH IN THE BLUE BOXES BELOW OR LOOK AT THE TABLE OF CONTENTS IN THE 2ND BOX

LOVE/ BROKEN HEART

POETRY-LOVE AND BROKEN HEARTS

Susan Johnston Owen ©

 

 

 

 



Love Me Anyway

 

Curled in a ball
all by herself
Longing to find
where she belongs,
the life she desires.

Curled in a ball
unable to move
crying and moaning;
never able to please.
The ones who need her
the ones she hopes care.

Curled in a ball
unable to unwind
face the world she needs,
strike out on her own,
live the life she wants.


Curled in a ball

silently dreaming;
longs for a lover
to whom she can give
all of her passions;
wrapped with no strings.
Life with compassion,
all he will give.

Curled in a ball,
she knows it's a dream
stuck in existence,
torn apart at the seams.
Aching to give all of herself

her fingers are throbbing,

to touch one who will love her,

inspite of herself.

sjo/jazz 8/15/2009


Love Affair Gone Wrong

 

How long must she suffer

for the pain given to him?

The lapses in her judgment,

when she couldn't follow  through.

 

She chose the straight and narrow,

hurting the one who crossed her way.

How long will he hate her awful mistake,

make her suffer his presence to quake?

 

How did this tragedy happen,

will this hatred he holds ever end?

Her candor was less than honest, yet

he was part of the story, sharing the sin.

 

How long does she have to suffer,

with the rope tight round her neck?

The truth of a short painful love affair,

was warped, what could they expect?

 

She never planned to fracture him,

only dreamed of a change in her life,

to hear hearts patter the beat of youth,

reaching to feel new; excitement a dance.

 

How long does she have to suffer,

for hating the person she was?

Needing to save her dwindling sanity,

wanting the family her heart gently raised.

 

Could they finally end this travesty,

two people have been betrayed?

When she pushed out fear ,told him all,

his gavel went down with a thwack.

 

His wrath and hatred are hell bent,

forcing humiliation, never giving her say.

Nothing ever should have started,

he threw temptation at her each day.

 

The torture was given to both of them,

they'll never trust each other now.

Are  they able to get past this,

learn a lesson, live with each others’ fouls?

 

He accomplished what  he intended,
buckled her down to the floor,
yet what she found out about his

deceitfulness astonished her;

let the guilt in her, exist no more.

sjo/jazz
originally written 2009 rewritten 6/25/2011


 

REAL

Passion flows from her
intending no seduction
it's just how she is.
Loyal to herself
her heart opens to trust.
Does it draw people
cause them to fear her?

The look in her eyes,
words she dares put to the page,
willingness to be genuine,
speaking truth as she sees it.
Is she worth the trouble?
Enlightening knowledge
does she make the world richer?

Is she an enigma to others?
Is she afraid of herself?
Longing for acceptance,
she's not a facade, but true.
Take the time to know,
learning the sincerity,
will end all useless doubt.

sjo/jazz

6/23/2011 rewritten 9/11/2012

 

 


POETRY- LOVE AND HEARTACHE

 

Game or Reality

 

No reason to cry,

this heart gives in,

winter turns to spring,

a slow ache says

nothing will change.

There was no time

taken to build

tenderness.

 

What's wrong is basic,

a twinge that will pass

when your voice

leaves my mind,

moving forward

can’t be too arduous?

The rain in my soul

pours freely tonight

unable to imagine

why

questionable games

lost us in a world of

inescapable confusion.

 

Life goes on

as my will

pushes me forth.

No reason to cry,

 this heart gives in.

Perhaps a walk

in the moonlight

will clear memories

of you,

 perhaps not.

 

The clock,

never allowed

them to grow.

 Susan Johnston Owen

Not based on one specific heartache

©11/17/2011

 

http://fashionformen.info/pict/casual/416.jpg

 

Mr. Perfect Gets Married
 

I never thought I'd see a day
this man would find a wife.
When Mr. Perfect met Mrs. Kind 
their love would give her strife.

He told her when they first met 
some things would have to change,
She said, "I'm sure the worrisome 
you hate can be rearranged."

He told her she was pretty,
but her dress made her look plump,
She said, "Alright my darling 
we can't have you in the dumps."

She always tried to please him
but her life lacked for applause.
Each time given a little praise, 
he would change it with a pause.

She tried so hard to keep a home, 
he told her it was nice,
but walked into the kitchen said 
the floor needed doing twice.

She tried to make him smile, 
wasn't he the perfect man,
Yet after several years of this
longed to hit him with a pan.

Mr. Perfect came home one night 
to find their home a mess,
soon he began to comment,
the house was to be her quest.

When suddenly she let out a sigh 
and opened the front door.
Let me say this kindly dear, 
you really are a bore!!!!

sjo/jazz ©

 

 Of Course, It Was All My Fault,

In the Windmills of Your Mind

 

Of course it was all my fault, how could it not be?

I'm the one who spotted her picture, wrote a note.

I'm the one who forced you to spend endless hours

writing back and forth, engaging in her life.

 

Of course it was all my fault, how could it not be?

I'm the one, who called her ten times a day,

I'm the one who coerced you to spend every moment

telling her how much you had looked all your life for her.

 

Of course it was all my fault, how could it not be?

I'm the one who pushed your fingers to dial the phone.

I guess I'm responsible for the laughter she gave,

my power was so strong I forced you to fall in love.

 

Of course it was all my fault, how could it not be?

Wasn't I the one who pried open your heart?

Broke down your defenses, put sweet words in your mouth,

my strength was so powerful, I could force you to love.

 

Please explain how your broken heart is my fault,

you walked away with your foolish doubts,

as a mother held her broken hearted child,

praying she would come back to finish her life.

 

Of course it was all my fault, how could it not be?

Was I the one who stole my child's desire to live,

as I watched her daily fighting the cancer within?

While you left an email, without explanation, walking away.

 

Of course it's my fault, how could it not be?

Was it not you who destroyed the heart you claimed?

Would a mother do anything to protect her child?

Had you not turned yourself into my mortal enemy?

 

Of course it was all my fault, how could it not be?

You were delivered massive pain in return for your lie.

"You, you are the one, I will love you forever."

Yet to this day, it's all about you, what did you do

to deserve vengeful wrath, pain my child to hide, scheme?

 

Of course it was all my fault, how could it not be?

I was just a mother suffering for her child's broken heart,

watching you act like the only injured party,

listening to accusations which were not deserved.

 

Of course it was all my fault, how could it not be?

You loved my child with such intensity it frightened you.

You spoke of your gentle soul and desire to never hurt,

what were your untruths in this disaster?

 

There were many, but from where I'm watching,

you'll deny them to your death, wondering bitterly.

Were your assumptions right, you'll never know?

It was easier to walk away than look her in the eye.

 

But then again, of course it was all my fault,

how dare you blame yourself, for seeking the truth

among the jealous enemy who would never let you believe,

your princess was no lie; another wants to own your heart.

 

The one, who lied, still is lying to himself.

Is it easier to move on believing she was not real?

Did changing your phone number, blocking her,

blockade your dreams of her fragrance and voice?

 

Many wrongs were done between two people,

and I of course will take all the fault not warranted.

I will not, however, allow you to believe you did no wrong;

that Sir, is your delusion, she is my child, not me.

 

I still fight forgiving your arrogance;

she moved on let you go…….

Now it's my turn to forgive,

no one may claim  innocence.

sjo/jazz ©

10/27/2011

 

 S.J.OWEN

The Windmills of Your Mind
LYRICS AND MUSIC BY MICHEL LEGRAND

 

Round, like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel.
Never ending or beginning, 
On an ever spinning wheel
Like a snowball down a mountain
Or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel that's turning
Running rings around the moon

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Like a tunnel that you follow 
To a tunnel of it's own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble 
Someone tosses in a stream.

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle your head
Why did summer go so quickly 
Was it something that I said
Lovers walking along the shore, 
Leave their footprints in the sand
Was the sound of distant drumming 
Just the fingers of your hand

Pictures hanging in a hallway
And a fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces 
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning, 
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circle that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Pictures hanging in a hallway
And the fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces 
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning, 
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind



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