Look at this
A pile of colorful squares
I took off the orange top
The second is halved into
Red and green
Joined with metallic blue threads
That stretched as I took it apart
The third layer has gold and black
Connected with neon pink soft wire
the last a whole violet square
Shiny in luster
I lay them beside each other on a white table
I put them back together
It is only then that I understood
This pile of squares.
Lotion
The white cool fluid
Promised a rose garden
And delivered
Smelling fragrance tender
I lather it on my parched face
Roughened by worry flowing
Through my veins
Feeling my fingers caress me
Smoothly silkily
Now my skin’s like a baby’s
Glowing with borrowed youth
Putting worry
Aside for a while
And glorying in looking
At my hydrated face.
Open up this ink bottle
Let it spill on the paper
See how the black becomes tendrils
Vine reaching out to the wind
To pen nutrition to the harvester
Sweet connection in seedless swallows.
Throw the stopper
Damn it to the incinerator
For impeding the flow
Of sweet red wine
Delaying seduction
Intoxicating
The fertilization of bored minds.
The month of hearts is still a far way off but having heard this instant hit from the American Idol winner, I can’t help but fall in love again, remember those sweet times when our romance was new, although I don’t want to limit the feeling that this song evokes to only relationships of the heart, but to feel a deeper bond also with friends, siblings, and of course, sons and daughters.
Sticky
My gaze flows over you like full cream milk
Lathering you with sweetness of lactose
Touching your hair gives me a feeling of silk
Loving you as your nutrition overflows
You in my arms forgotten others’ ilk
Making music and our time slows.
Rapturous togetherness and loneliness banished almost forever.
Peoplepoemage: This is a little poetic ditty about one of my acquaintances, who has appalled me with his constant womanizing despite the fact he has a commitment with a long-time girlfriend.
Wanting Every One Except My Girlfriend
Waiting in the wings
Snorting like a horse in a desolate stall
A chick in a nest waiting for the worm
Pining away like Echo
While the mayordomo
Rides all the mares
Caresses their pelt
While the cat on the porch
Has no one her to stroke
Soon the fount will dry
And no bastard will be even
Conceived
A desert is born
The Kalahari of his heart.
Found Poetry: Kiss Me
“Kiss Me/Sixpence None the Richer”
Kiss me
Out of the bearded barley
Nightly
Beside the green, green grass
Swing, swing
Swing the spinning step
You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress
Oh, kiss me
Beneath the milky twilight
Lead me
Out on the moonlit floor
Lift up your open hand
Strike up the band
And make the fireflies dance
Silver moon’s sparkling
So kiss me
Kiss me
Down by the broken tree house
Swing me
Upon its hanging tire
Bring, bring
Bring your flowered hat
We’ll take the trail marked on your father’s map
Oh, kiss me
Beneath the milky twilight
Lead me
Out on the moonlit floor
Lift up your open hand
Strike up the band
And make the fireflies dance
Silver moon’s sparkling
So kiss me
Kiss me
Beneath the milky twilight
Lead me
Out on the moonlit floor
Lift up your open hand
Strike up the band
And make the fireflies dance
Silver moon’s sparkling
So kiss me
So kiss me
So kiss me
So kiss me
This playful and truly optimistic song which evokes cheerful images of evening advent for me seem conveys the mystery behind a kiss, the mystery it recreates, and the bliss that is revitalized between two committers the same way the evening falling renews every tired muscle and stressed out mind after a gruelling day. Indeed, one’s first kiss or a kiss from a loved one, expected and then turning to the unexpected, can strike up a band and make fireflies dance and silver moon sparkling.
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