The Fog of Love

author’s note:

Ironic: I see better when I listen.


THE FOG OF LOVE

I’ve often heard historians speak
of the fog of war.
But in my experience
the ecstasy of love
can also create fog.

Yes, between the two
I prefer the fog of love.
But in that cloud
the beloved and I
may bumble and stumble and fumble.
And the frustration we feel then
can lead to anger
can lead to sadness.

The fog of love
can quickly become the fog of war.

And my mind may still be fogged
long after the war has ended.

But desperate for peace
I’ll fight to clear my head.

No, I’ve never been able to achieve
perfect clarity
but every insight earned
remains with me.

So maybe next time
I won’t get lost in illusion
but be able to see through the fog—

see the new union clearly—
see my love for my lover clearly
see my lover clearly—
see if they see me clearly—
and if not, help them see
who I am.

To those who say
I’ll kill the mad ecstasy that way
I say:
Whether we stay together or part
I don’t want the sun we’ve made
to be lost
in the dark noxious fog of war.

How Can I Live In This World?: poetry book
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© 2026, Michael R. Patton

Two Types of Emptiness

author's note:

Please excuse the "primitive" recording of this poem (at the bottom of this post)...

I try to make up in sincerity what I lack in technology.


TWO TYPES OF EMPTINESS

I have experienced
two types of emptiness--

blank exhaustion
with all its dead air

and the blankness of clarity
with its wide-open freshness--

so different the pair
and yet the first
can sometimes lead
to the second:

after fighting with myself
to release an old argument
held in the fist of a grip
I'll surrender in exhaustion--

so blank...so mute...so empty.

But at such times
though I feel so weak
the smoke may die
and in the break, I will see
the brilliant blue sky of peace

before the ground fog gathers again.

These brief respites
both lift me with hope
and heighten my frustration:

as a result, afterwards
I'm even more motivated
to work my way out--

to keep on battling
to give up
that which I so stubbornly
work to protect.


© 2014, Michael R. Patton
myth steps