It started at the beginning of adulthood
where the wandering into the new house
became a chore. The doorway greeted me
by snagging my woollen jumper.
The motorway was screaming, the battered gate happily hanging from its hinges.
His image first flashed into my sight,
And when I stared through the fogged up windows
I could still figure out his figure.
Loutish, he sauntered past
On a hillside, desolate.
He didn’t move for three hours.
He was most probably entwining the thorns from the bush
into his complex mind. Maybe
the boy with the thorn in his side
Had been brought to life by this mystery animal
With a mass of unkempt mane.
Unruly, unnecessary, untouched.
The notebook on my kitchen table lay untidily
waiting to be roughened up. I picked it up
and cast light over the paper.
I imagined him doing the same
But his art was thunderstorms
And mine merely a drizzle of rain.
I made progress
and the flowers were growing from my fountain pen.
Confidence developing, I invited him inside
And there were still no words from his unfathomable jaw.
A month later, we became one
and I still didn’t know where his intentions were lying.
I’m a girl afraid, does he even have any?
Ink pot after ink pot
I ran even further in this marathon of confusion.
I slowly slid from his dismissive grasp, his matted paws light
I had drawn graffiti over his portrait.
a permanent marker changed beauty into art.
I crept before his wake, into his sleep
And his lyricism lay imbibed in the walls, the desk, the door.
I felt the gale force energy cry inside
Which erupted like a volcano, turning remnants into ashes.
Face down, mane rough, scars bright, fur singed
In the morning, I lifted his heavy paw away from me
And placed it peacefully beside him.
I based my poem upon my hero Morrissey (Duffy seems to write her poems about significant historical/well-known figures or fairytale characters) because him and the Smiths have kind of been a form of escape for me recently. I just thought it would be nice to write about him, even if it was harshly, but that is Duffy's predominant style.
My senses betray me,
And the quality of a lady is what I seek
Their self worth with confidence shine,
and their smile have great energy,
Then I look to court them!
My eyes betray me.
Visual presentation of a lady is what I seek.
Type of clothes they wear,
And if they have fashion sense!
If they look beautiful,
I will approach them.
My nose betray me.
The ladies must smell good.
Ladies must give a pleasant scent,
And carry good hygienes,
If they could keep clean,
I will approach them.
My mind betray me
Lady must have an intellectual mind,
And can verbally stimulate an awesome conversation.
Must have individualism,
And stand firm in her belief,
But also have compassion in her voice!
I am shallow,
And I will not sugar coat my voice.
I know what I like,
And type of person I fall for.
My senses betray me,
But I admit who I am.
I love you.
I love the things you say.
I love the things you do.
I love you in every single way.
I love your hair.
I love your smile.
I love how you play fair.
I love how you make me stay a while.
I love your voice.
I love how you love food.
I love the face you make when making a choice.
I love you in any mood.
I love you top to bottom.
I love how you solve a problem.
I love the way you walk.
I love the way you talk.
I love how you write.
I love you, day and night.
I love the way you hold a pen.
I love you more, every now and then.
I love your taste.
I love how our memories don't get erased.
I love how you get me to do anything.
I love your rights, I love your wrongs, I love everything.
I love how you look out the window.
I love how you make sure I don't feel like a zero.
I love how you love Christmas.
I love you, can I get a witness?
I love how you can cook.
I love how you love books.
I love how you love your sister.
I love how you admit to being a sinner.
I love how you're so smart.
I love how you're good at art.
I love how I feel when I look at you.
I love you, I don't know what to do.
I love how you never really get mad.
I love how you smile even when you're sad.
I love the way you dance.
I love the fingers on your hands.
I love you even when you don't reply.
I love how you're always beautiful, even when you cry.
I love how you answer the phone.
I love you more than you will ever know.
I love the fact you're still reading my poem.
I love how my heart is what you've stolen.
I love how you're grinning at how I can't rhyme.
I love you, even if I know you'll never be mine.
If life is a building
With infinite floors
We are on the same level
Behind the same door
If love is a book
With every single name
We are right beside each other
On the same page
We are corresponding wavelengths Synchronized swimmers
Through the sea of dreams
We were radio static in a storm
Until we turned each other's dials and
Tuned in to one another
Beneath Us We will plant Our seeds
Letting roots flow together from Our feet
Above Us there is room to grow
Our limbs will stretch for all to know
We are one, and
We have won
We will lay bricks
As stable foundation
Become masters of masonry
Without building a wall between
You will no longer ache
With anger in Your bones
You will not feel so weak
Or scared and alone
We will not let these monsters
Rest inside You
Only to escape and
Paint Your face red with streaks
If We are crying
It's because We are overcome by happiness and
It's overwhelming and
We are overjoyed and
Other positive 'over' words
We will always be each other's
Shoulders to soak
We are a simultaneous song
Sung by sirens
To draw Us into one another
Chanting and charming Our souls
Thank the temptress
For showing me a goddess
I was a sinking ship
Waving flags of distress
Until I was brought to
The beauty of You
Your heavenly body
Heart beating beside me
My majestic marvelous moon
I want those low smoky bar songs
To make you think of me
I want you to want to see me
In that kind of loud dirty place
Out of place
And a little drunk
I want your frown
I want your glare at the bartender
I want your hand on my arm
When French is all I can manage
French, and your name
I'm speaking French for you
And you never notice
I want a little strong something
To bring out those r's
And your concern
I want your "lightweight"
I want your done-in kiss
I want my bad decisions
To bring one out in you.
Truth is a lie
For I am trapped in a reality
Of one not conditioned for my kind
Perception is key to the unlocked universe
But what if I'm locked out of the world in which I was born?
I don't speak their language or get their jokes,
But since we are being honest, I don't care
All the pretty images, no thought evoked
In my own dimension, no one stares.
headn back south for a big rock, big chunk of somthin to make som money with
2 have a little rock collection like texada island
stir fry wet slug salad litter ears scatter silent, high fiving finally noone this sad reptile cold-skin hurt soul crying at base tree kneeling on root trying light joint
dropping the lighter fumbling cold finger dusk shining through the shoes
im finaly gonna break up and gonna meet some girls
movies all night cuddled up eyes evil needles
or on the roof watching light shows the dark dead sky less lost like the end .
strawberry sprawled out city inbehind trailing
nests of smoke when we bow our head