Vixen in the rough

I read a post by Foxes and Poems called ‘A Poem About Oblivion’. It triggered my thoughts about relationships and how they can be so toxic at times. I find it sad that people get caught up in unhealthy relationships, oftentimes unaware of the problem until too much is invested to make a clean break.

I’m not making judgements, who am I to do that? I am simply presenting thoughts that have been triggered many times while reading posts of those I follow. My hope is that they were works of fiction, although I know, many were not. I cannot apologize for the hurts inflicted by uncaring partners, but I would if I could.

Men are beasts…

...But, not all of us

I don't know what you see in us,
we predate,
calculate,
can't relate.
We are hopeless,
but, no,
you are our hope,
our salvation
from base predilections
and savage impulses.
You buoy us,
balance us,
care for us,
at your own expense.
Why?

What do you find in us
that's irresistible,
irreplaceable,
redeemable?
Is it the challenge
the thrill,
the danger
of allowing yourself to be engulfed
in a maelstrom 
of pheromones
and carnal desire?
Is it love
or need of validation
that draws you
like the butterfly to the flame
into the arms of the man
from Stockholm?

He will give you neither
and leave behind
your white hot ashes.

Please go to Foxes and Poems and read or listen to April’s post!

12 thoughts on “Vixen in the rough

  1. Wow. That was brilliant, Tim.
    I’ll never understand how a woman, once she has seen his evil true colours, can stay. But I am not them so I will not ever judge.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Tim, I completely fell for April’s poem too. All I will say, is sometimes the dark is seductive, and there are layers upon layers of reasons why it’s seductive. I guess it’s once it’s completely destructive that it becomes a problem…

    Liked by 3 people

  3. Oh Tim! I was so, so floored to wake up this morning and see that you’d not only enjoyed my poem but felt moved by it enough to build upon its metaphors. To respond to its fiery moods, its darkened corridors. I wish I had the words to express how honored and pleased I am by this creative exchange. To me it feels like a kind of poetic echolocation and I want to thank you, sincerely, for engaging in that experience with me!

    This piece is poignant and thought provoking on several levels. I hear a man who recognizes the pitfalls of toxic masculinity, who wants to be voice of dissonance in a sea of ingratitude. I love that you acknowledge women’s inherent deserving and I also love the intellectual contemplation of that ‘moth to flame’ psychology.

    “engulfed
    in a maelstrom
    of pheromones
    and carnal desire”

    This right here says so much and captures one of the (many) ways we flirt with danger. We engulf ourselves to feel… something, maybe anything. Both men and women are drawn to a kind of intensity that we know deep down will leave us singed but we find ourselves somehow unable to resist.

    Common sense and love are rarely synonymous. And that is the melody and the madness of it.

    This is a perfect compliment to my piece and you have made my day, Tim. Thank you so much! 🖤🦊🔥

    Like

  4. The good old saying “Nice Guys Finish Last.” You can say you have to always keep some skin in the game. If you give a girl 100%, they seem to get turned off. You have to tease the string a little bit.

    Like

  5. I wrote the piece he’s referencing and I have to (very respectfully) disagree. I’ve dated men who were 100% sweet and I’ve dated men who were 100% bad influence. And I loved them both. Immensely so. I suppose it depended on my preferences in different phases.

    My poem waxes on a particular time period, when I, myself, was in a dark / self destructive place and therefore sought (and found) a destructive relationship. Because let’s face it. Misery loves company.

    Last guys do not, in fact, get passed over. I can say this with confidence because – they too – have poems I’ve composed in their honor. The difference being their poems speak of them in cherished, lofty terms. They are the shields, the constellations. Whereas the ones who have wounded me get words like arsenic and scorched earth.

    Different experiences inspire different art.

    I know it can seem like women stray from the purely good hearted guys in favor of a challenge. I can’t deny that does happen. But I also think women are nurturers. We are taught to heal, to care, to comfort from day one. So on some level we are wired to be drawn to the broken ones.

    But those men aren’t the ones who end up enshrined in poetry as the fresh air and the flowers in our metaphorical gardens. They are the snakes, they are the storms.

    So who in fact finishes last when we consider this fact…?
    ♥️💥

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Sorry about pulling up short this morning, I was running a little behind schedule and didn’t have time to give a proper reply. I was also a little overwhelmed by your response to this post. I hoped that you would approve, but, Wow, just wow.

    Having a daughter, who is now engaged to a real good guy, made me very aware of the hazards she would face. I trusted she would use her good sense and avoid the worst of them. Aside from the usual missteps, she emerged unscathed.

    As I read your poem, I was thinking, ‘What’s wrong with some men?’ ‘Why do women put up with or fall for those creeps?’ My questions poured out, almost without thought in response to the images you illustrated. I drew energy and symbolism from your words.

    To be honest, I didn’t consciously construct the phrase you highlighted, it just spilled out. I was caught up in the moment and found the right words to fit the thought I was trying to express. Again, I drew that from you.

    I like the word, ‘dissonance’, that’s the point of my writing, to say what one wouldn’t expect from ‘a person like me’. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

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