When you’re short of breath walking up the street
When your jeans hug tight and your buttons squeeze
When you’ve just the time for a sneaky snack
You wake with a start from a sweaty nap
When your itching toes get no soothing scratch
A tasty treat in a handy batch
All sing along
It’s my country song
Late in fat moon
Lights a stream of bright
Here’s a heart warmed place
Rich in history
Sweet in sound
Swell with hearts sweet pound
You’re my hearts hot fire
Music drawn by wire
Here in this sweet tune
Leaves the beat
For love to pour
Our big, fat, white rabbit
Has short white ears and pink staring eyes
I like feeding it carrots or lettuce
But Scamper likes sunflower seeds best
Our uncle Bill says Scamper’s too fat
And would be better off cooked
With carrots and broccoli in the pot
But mum’s promised we’re not going
To eat him; no matter how big and fat Scamper got.
In the mid-
dull of the night
and listen to the rain
In this hot room
the sounds of splash
draw out my
slightly sighs again
Were you not here so
sweat with mine
Through this din of rain
and thunderous clocks
collect on you
I’m sure though
slow these days
will fly and
bring me close
in time to you
In the morning, when you wake
Push me from your head –
Don’t push me from your bed:
Let me rise up
and wake up
and get up, to see
what you looked like
and smell like
and felt like to me!
Remember when you were lightening,
in the dark so wholly frightening.
You were the free one, so fantastic,
Wise as Thales, deep with magic
You escaped the demon slaying:
You escaped the holy, praying:
And you escaped a mind,
I followed footsteps in the twilight:
I called to others to save your limelight.
Yet in the morn’ you’d lost the sunlight!
I summoned voices to save your last night…
I knew you could, you would, return –
Your name would once again
The throats of others burn.
We could’ve lived on forever
Although I pleaded, you claimed never,
Days would come when I’d know fever
Bear this heat (with you, survivor).
Our web of lies will not be forgotten
Another fable of the truly rotten
This high-hyped-pyre, this treaty written
Large of sound, yet lite on wisdom
Echoes of your grand lightening
Once in the dark, so wholly frightening.
You seemed the free one:
Was just my minds burst –
this is an edited version of poem originally posted in summer of 2015.
Posted in Breaking Dreambones |
Tagged hope, life, lightening, loss, Love, poem, poetry, sensual, sex, song, stories |
Those fingers and toes – that’s twenty
Her neck and her nose – There’s 2
And of course how she shares
I love you.
In my mind the tally’s now 30
Plus I argue her ‘Love You’s’ worth double
Then here is one more
I assure you, worth four
How she know’s
When there’s trouble.
From 50, we’re down to 16 (ish)
As my lovers
Makes the chart
Some might find me smutty
To point out the putty
My mens-rea, tho’s to
Love’s dark art!
My ways carry on
Thru this dubious song
Which reminds me
My love birds warm trill
Humming when she finds happiness
When life is less a mess
Her’s the voice of the angels
Her get up
Like drinking and smoking
The way she finds worry
In the doe eyes of love
And that peak that she rides
And how quickly she
Welcome to love life’s top 5!
Though I’d happily drone till you’re bored.
From the arch of her brow
To the grace in her swing
And her lips,
bitten tender in thought
The second spot’s filled by her breasts
And you might think that bawdily stark, but…
The point of this poem
The top of the chart
Is her forever surprise that she’s stolen my heart.