Open Letter From Rikki Lee Travolta

Story Of A Life

a series of poems
chronicling the life
of Rikki Lee Travolta

Love Story

A total love of all the things:
body soul and mind.

‘Tis better to have loved and lost
then to have never loved at all.

Another phrase we all do know, yet contradictory to the prior.
For, the later fits not with what the first phrase does require.

To have loved and lost, as the saying goes,
one’s love must have ceased to be.

But, if love is forever, as we all do wish,
then it would exist eternally.

It’s not mine to say which saying is true,
or if either is even on track.

All I know is that to keep your love,
you must love your lover back.

Bachelorhood

Mirror Mirror
On the wall…
Goddamn you’re dirty!

When was the last time I cleaned you?
Have I ever cleaned you?
I think I asked you once before but didn’t clean you then either.

Oh well, no point in starting today.
Maybe just wipe a patch to see in for now.
That worked last time, didn’t it?

I have a date tonight, though.
So, I should probably clean a little.
That, and put in dimmer light bulbs.

The couch is filthy from the dog.
Easily fixed though, I’ll just flip the cushions.
It’s a lot like rotating your tires.

It is possible, you see
To lounge in the virtues of bachelorhood
Without the perception of slovenliness.

What about Love?

I meet a girl, she meets me.
She has no name, though it wouldn’t matter if she did.
Aliases are the norm, when even those are called for.

“Your place or mine?” A mere formality.
An answer is given; it does not matter which.
Either one will serve the purpose.

It does not take long, soon we are done.
One of us stays, one of us leaves.
Our good-byes are never sentimental.

Perhaps at one time I did believe in love,
But that time, if it was, was a long time ago.
Love is nothing more than a myth.

I run this cycle from girl to girl to pass the time away.
I have, by now, accepted that love will never be mine.
Why look for what you’ll never find.

I meet a girl…

Between the Lines

No one sleeps on such occasions.

“Fuck you!” he screams.
“Fuck off!” she yells.
“Fuck me,” I say.

Fucking is never even an actual consideration.

“Let’s just be friends.” she suggests.
“We can still be friends.” he offers.
“Friends?” I say….

Yeah, right.

Where the River Flows

Silence – a sound so deafening to hear
is but to feel, to feel but to know.

To know the agony delight of silent embrace
of love, of trust, of one.

Brightness shines, a light of brilliant emotion.
Blinding – yet illuminating, not to the eyes, but the soul.

Traveling a road to which there is no end,
a catalyst for the quest called love.

First to find and cherish,
then to nurture and grow.

Every today will be tomorrow,
just as it was once yesterday.

And so the river flows.

Songs that Hearts Play

Love is not a science
that can be predicted or taught
calculated or created.

It can not be measured
by conventional terms of inches or meters
volume or weight.

Love is music, a song
played not in notes, but emotions,
played only by the heart.

My heart plays but one song,
a song untitled – for no words can express its meaning.
My heart plays its song only for you.

Romeo Room

Never alone in the company of flesh,
always alone inside.

To think some admire such a life,
an endless parade of meaningless encounters.

If only they knew how lonely it is,
to be so “loved” does not imply one is loved at all.

Love and Making Love –
they’re not the same.

Tears of Angels

A man so lost, so far from the path –
not even the Angels though he could be saved.

A wonder then the lost soul sought to save himself –
to halt his fall south of Heaven and embark a perriless climb.

The Angels had cheered, watching in awe –
at the mortal who dared to do what the immortals thought impossible.

Maybe he would have made it if he was a little more selfish –
if he had passed by the stranger in need in favor of his own assent.

But there lies the irony.
His spirit could not be selfish and still make the assent.

The girl had needed help,
and the man who once was lost took her hand in his.

He knew the path to find the light from where the Angels cheered.
And upon the might of his shoulders, he would guide the one in need.

Alas one man determined has not the strength to carry two souls
from the depths no one soul had ever climbed from before.

The girl in need could not carry her own,
clinging to the man her weight plummeted them both back into the abyss.

And the Angels cried,
for the soul of the boy who was almost found.