The Warrior-Poet

But if you will now allow me to tell you a true compliment of myself, I do not think that the romantic platitude of being unlucky in love is actually my fault. Bear with my self-defense... I think a lot of it lies in the myrmidon women I strangely end up with. If not them, I find frightened chickens who run at the sight of life.

Anyway, I have noticed in my loving observations of this particular romantic (myself) that the well of his untold inner fortitude for chasing and running (as with all polarities and perfections and imperfections) is mirrored on the other side by an equally vast and rolling need for a bastion.

Everyone of us needs unwavering, Sonnet 116 love. Even if they say they do not believe in it. I believe I in it and thus I need it and search for it more than most.

Thereby, I believe the only true match for my soul is a woman with the ability to flicker between absolute, willful, unconditional love (to hold me up when I cut myself--which I WILL do) AND the soft gentility of mystery-spirit that makes me WANT to be loyal to her and thus to myself.
She will spear me with a willingness to wait against my pride for the perfect moment to give my love.

Some women think this is too tall an order. I find it no taller nor more demanding (nor more difficult if you are to the manner born) than the expectations of the man himself to be Romeo, Father, and Warrior.
I have found in my life that when you deal with a person whom you can see will set themselves on a course of self-annihilation, the only way to save them, save your relationship, or make them a better person in the end is to show them that you can take anything they can throw.
Once they've thrown their worst then--and you're still standing next to them when the dust settles--the love they will bear you is incomparable to anything else in eternity!

Not to mention they will have changed so much from the benefit of seeing this love that the desire to implode will either diminish significantly and usually vanish altogether.

I think people have a misconception about how pretty love always is and if they are lucky enough to ever even catch a glimpse of it, they are too appalled to admit it. They think it is a pink, nimbus beauty at all times. In fact it is sometimes black and blue.

So it becomes clear again why the warrior-poets are such naturals. Our whole spirit cries for a bruise and IS a bruise in its own right. Pain to us is nearly second-nature and something we seem to be born with an innate and defining lack of fear for. This is merely one of many reasons we are form-fit for real love and cannot help to look for it.

Ruffian on the outside--such hard, willful, and bullheaded exteriors disguising such gorgeously loyal and considerate inner depths. The compliments I receive are often thus.

Would you sell your soul once for perfect love?
Stolen twice and sold thrice?
The devil would buy it four times for he admires desperation.

Comments

Hate to break it to you, but unconditional love is a myth, right up there with Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.
 
Sorry, didn't intend to be so harsh. Human beings only experience unconditional love as infants. After the Terrible Twos set in, and our parent figures start setting boundaries, we never again experience unconditional love... and never stop seeking it.

It is a wise man/woman who recognizes the infantile nature of our desire for unconditional love, and who learns to seek and appreciate other forms of acceptance and love.
 
I like your persepective...and agree with you for the most part...love is truly romanticized...often exploited and reduced to something unrecognizable...so...how can one find it...if she does not even know how it moves...smells..looks? We should all be taught in high school...the definitions of loves...and whether we agree or dissagree with them... we have a blur....a subtle scent...we have something. I believe truly...love has its conditions...and if violated so deeply...the ethics of this love...one should abandon it...but I also believe...real love...exists always.

The relations you are getting in yourself into... the two types of women...you are dealing with women who may feel some suppression in the relation...or women who are afraid of being loved by you...they have been hurt and know the damage you can cause them...so they withdraw. Real love awaits you...she is sitting at a cafe checking her email by WI FI, sipping on a Frappe...she is in the poetry isle at BArnes and Noble...reading Rilke or Lorca...waiting you with every passerby...go get her!
 
Thank you all for the time you took to read and comment.

I'm not currently in mourning nor am I in the throes of misanthropy or misogyny, I don't know where this all came from...

How do you know that is exactly where I would want to find her miss worship?
I love the image you created in such few words!
 
::laughs::

idk..maybe she is in line at McDonald's ..or ...at bike mile 12 of a 56 mile duathalon...OR...is she at the adult toy store...comparing bullets...idk but!! I do know...she is somewhere...maybe even beneath/ above your nose. hehe

I know my love awaits me too and the hunt/wait is teaching perserverance! :)
 

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WolvesInTheThroneRoom
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