I'll start tomorrow, I promised myself
words to live by? Not so much
that red dress meant for Christmas dance
had not desired result with romance
I brought a bouquet of flowers
candy in a box
I waited patiently for hours
at the door with fool proof locks
Across the table,
eyes meet;
brown and green
camouflage colours
banking forest fires
You and I both know
we can’t let this go
on the way it does.
Yes, you and I both know
we can’t let it show
what's between us...
You were not meant to belong to anyone
You have to learn to fly
You were not meant to belong to anyone
You have to learn to fly
You want a house in a cul-de-sac
You want the tax man off your back
You want it all
so you’ll stand tall
But boy are you prepared to pay the price
Oh yeah are you prepared to pay the price
Writing ignites
such frightening insights.
Afraid to reveal who I am,
I'll need a pseudonym,
to let my poems be the heirs
to a lake of vodka and tears.
I once knew a man who made my heart sing.
This was the man who was my everything.
When he was not in the room, my eyes would search.
When he entered it, my heart would lurch.
Lock of hair,
rock, shell, from beach:
futile measures,
you're still out of reach.
Jet plane takes off from the ground
travelling faster than the speed of sound
It seems that happens when it's got your heart
a boom louder than a thunder clap;
then resounding silence leaves my head buzzing,
heart pounding...
Summer's ending.
Only enveloping you
utterly,
as if you belong in my DNA,
in my entity,
my twenty-fourth strand,
will complete me.
The name of the game
is aquiring fame
through "networking".
Six degrees of separation
quite easily found
through imbibing
and chatting
and standing around.
Under cover of single umbrella
rain pelting down
to thunderous applause
lightening forks to ground
a joined chorous
as you and I
experience the fireworks
He breathes they said,
and I looked at my child
lying so still, full of tubes
from his arms and nose.
intubated, semi comatose.
multifaceted
or wildly scattered;
visionary
or purposefully ornery;
beloved
or conveniently needed;
vocally weepy
or powerfully rocky...
Licentious sexual predator!
your status is
NO permission
to prey upon another.
Quid-pro-quo,
threats and commands
when I dodged
grasping wandering hands.
My dad was a character
who drew people
like no other.
Unendingly curious,
convincingly theatrical
irrepressibly irreverent;
he had the most fun
with his own foibles.
Petals so perfect
ombré and exactly
the lipstick
that you could've
kissed off me...
How I wish it was still
on the tree