Poem: Bride Groom Sorrow

Karim Manjra, Unsplash.com
Spencer I want to see 
your high, goofy, holy face
laugh when I find lint
in your belly button like a dryer.
“La Chaim” toast from Buck Rogers
with a test tube blue drink
I envision you still
with your purple velour
Burning Man glam
homemade Star Trek uniform
with an iron-on Enterprise patch
you even sewed in the
wavy gaudy glittering wrist border.
You were my same opposite
You were my perfect nemesis
There can be only one” Highlander
you were mine.

I want to forgive and be forgiven
by you in telepathic grace
ultimate muse and trauma artist
You were my end in this lifetime.
We were irresistibly drawn
and now we’ll be eternally young
in each other’s memory
we’re married but never
in this reality.
I know you loved me and I loved you too
but it wasn’t enough
the violence between us was stronger.

So much of life is wasted on the living
what they say is true—
we selfishly deeply sleep
an endless dream of expectations.
I miss you forever
wonder twin friend
Byaba, Byaba, Byaba!
I want to sing with you again
Sasquatch Chewbacca Bigfoot
power of laughter.
Life would’ve been so much easier
if I never met you
but it wouldn’t have been better
I wouldn’t trade the experience ever
“It’s better to have loved and lost...”
Losing you was losing a miracle.

When I sent you away—Spencer
I wanted to die and I almost tried
in my mind I plotted goodbye letters
but I didn’t really want it to end
and never at your hands Spencer
you worried too
that it would happen
murder by accident
excessive passion is a possession
and we were channeling Titans.

You broke your ex-ex-ex-girlfriend’s jaw.
But I still dated you knowing the story
You were in therapy
and I thought Love was the cure.
But our Love was blind and had a death wish.
I wanted to save you wanted to save me.
You were so much like my playboy father
same rage, same hurt,
same misunderstood goodness gone berserk.

I failed—-couldn’t save myself or you
Leaving felt like a murder suicide
but I survived the codependency
I don’t know if you did
I don’t know where you are
or if you’re alive.
Sometimes I feel married to sorrow
I romanticize it so often
and nothing else has been with me
so faithfully for so long.

Namaste Spencer
the anonymous phrase you gave me
on a bumper sticker—-
“You are everything, always everywhere”
lives in me like a halo.
Katelyn MacMillan, Unsplash.com


  1. A powerful poem detailing a most important chapter in your life.

    The pain and sorrow and yet an agonized ecstasy that exists in some relationships where the highs and lows, joys and misery seem to alternate like a perpetual motion teeter totter.

    You’ve caught the essence of that relationship very well.

    Having lived it.

    And having the ability to poetically express what it was you lived.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Christopher. You’re very insightful, some relationships will take you to the edge of the best and worst aspects of life. It’s interesting to me that many artists live traumatic lives, it seems like the universe does this on purpose. I appreciate your supportive comment.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You’re welcome, Judy.

        And I definitely agree with you about artists living traumatic lives.

        I’ve never been in a relationship like you’ve described.

        I don’t know whether the expression It’s Better To Have Loved and Lost Than Never To Have Loved At All is true (I have the feeling that it probably is) but I’ve never experienced that deep passionate love that takes one to the edge of both agony and esctasy at the same time.

        I have experienced trauma though.

        At the hands of an emotionally abusive mother in my childhood, teen years and young adulthood.

        Then at the hands of an emotionally abusive and money grubbing older sister after my father died.

        My dad was the one rock of sanity and true common sense in my life.

        That’s why I’ve never fallen for the lie espoused by some radical feminists that it’s only men and never women who are responsible for abuse.

        My life has been proof that definitely isn’t the case.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I think more than the average pain is a rite of passage for artists, I guess they have to have something dramatic to express? I also think that we meet specific people who are meant to challenge us, surviving the encounter is part of the path to self/understanding/evolution. Otherwise it just meaningless pain. I think artists try to transform the pain to heal it.

        I’m sorry that your mother and sister were so toxic, but I’m glad that you at least had a healthy bond with your father. Sounds like your sister learned from your mom and you emulated your father. Psychologists say that we need at least one stable mentor during childhood. My torturer was my older sister and my hero was my older brother (but he’s turned out to be messed up too), I guess when you idealize someone the disappointment is more intense.

        I used to consider myself a feminist because I grew up within a misogynistic culture, Korean women/wives could be beaten and raped and the courts would blame the women; it’s still very much a man’s world in Korea, but I’ve realized that the original feminist movement was hijacked by radicals who don’t want equality, they want superiority/constantly blame men for everything just like BLM blames white supremacy. Radical feminists are pro-sex work and promote female objectification as empowerment, their stupidity ruins it for all women.

        I get upset when I see how boys are being shamed for their gender, I won’t let them do that to my son. I try to promote the rights of boys where I work too, the library is so insanely liberal. I’ve realized that I shouldn’t quit my job, I should be the lone voice of dissent there.

        Liked by 1 person

Comments are closed.