These Forever Tears

Those that might imagine time would heal

could listen to the storms that find solace

in reminders, in thunderous applause

those moments we might imagine, appeal.


We could the beauty of a lightning storm

let ourselves reach out to one another now

without touch a sweet and metaphorical how

speak to the heart, the soul, outside the norm


We are in a manner of words and solo trials

working in a unique parallel beyond our own

we knew, once our skin touch, a desire known

inside the mystique, dreams would travel miles


Oh to fathom only the sweet beauty of a fashion

love could ever feel sweet, this haunting passion


© Scott F Savage 8/2020

Confusion, Sweet Melody

‘Why do you hate me when I love you so much?’

Listen to a love song

speaking to us out loud.

What are the rules we hear

when someone is no longer near

She did she could she will she has

she would always touch my heart.

What are the words speak to us

when we cannot deny any more.

what are the words

trying to find

the right way to know.

Listen to the tears

on the radio blues.

Crooners will never change,

the drama of love remains.

Listen to the words.

Listen, to the words.

©️ Scott F Savage 8/2020

Steady Stream

Once in a while

standing nearby

I feel a smile

long before a cry

Time will travel slow,

if I find the right pool,

water standing still though

if it is all, be me the fool.

Further down the stream

I could feel the breeze

finding freedom in a dream

falling to my knees

I’m always awake when it is done

this feeling of love is now my none.

© Scott F Savage 8/2020

the ‘b’ series

The Day She Walked

I felt a certain pain when I remembered the day

she walked out on me,

we were a team for decades

though eerily we could feel the separation

of our minds, our bodies, our spirit,

and yet why didn’t we ever try as hard

as the other,

why didn’t we know what the other

was willing to try

sacrifice, create a better chemistry.


How many times did we lay in our separate beds

and think,

this is really a long time

to be with one person.


What did he feel like

when she said one day,

’30 years is a long time.’

He thought to himself,

so is 50,

less than ten is a drop in the water,

but we today,

we are now supposed to

no longer care

about one another,

ironic isn’t it when two people are together

their guilt and shame

built around an inability

to shower compassion towards one another’s

matter of being.


The livelihood of love,

lost in a morning fog.

© Scott F Savage 8/2020

Instinct Beyond Love

If for a moment time would stand still

all the desire in my life would hold my will

that piece of my heart

where my soul stands in a clear engagement

of how we could have

stopped time

together, forever,

if in a parallel universe,

if when I could

while losing myself in her eyes,

feel the breeze through the maple,

the forest is where I could love you,

where the beauty of our lives,

became secondary to the strength

nature around our lives,

fulfilling lives bound forever,

sweet serenity.

© Scott F Savage 8/2020

This Anger Inside

Pouring truth

a constant

a reminder of my childhood,

of last week,

the turn of the year

any number of significant



When I allow myself,

there is this rage that evolves

asking for some release

begging explanation,

only my outcome,

is the same,

a disregard for my insides.


This disdain my mind speaks of

not meant for

you, them , that, those, when, why,

any presence or childhood,

my young adult life,

pick a phase,

all the stored up rage (sic)

is beyond anyone else,

internally storming  my

ability to console,

mistakes, missed, manifest

in my own

desire, or a lack

of regard

for change.


This is my anger, not yours.

© Scott F Savage 8/2020

A Simple Grace

Yesterday while

nature indicated change

watching the sky

pure beauty



listening trepidation

an argument over energy

that desire speaks humanity

a greater asset

such is the elitist lifestyle

a mask, a race,

derision of a forgotten kindness

doing the right thing


while in contemplation

the majestic


of a mature old oak tree

loomed in creative resilience.


Now a storm rolls in

the storm keeps rolling in.

I will watch with fascination,

society depends upon the truth.

©️ Scott F Savage 8/2020