Don't give me your abject phrases
or your artfully placed sighs
Don't give me your diluted praises
that leak from your blinded eyes
Don't give me a disjointed speech
that starts with the letter I
Don't give me verbations that leech
from your ever loving lies
Don't give me your pretending
because I don't believe in that ****
Don't give me your never ending
*I'm never going to get it!

In the silence of the raindrops
as we lay together on the tide
I'm affected by the thunder
as you slumber by my side
I want to reach out to you
and let the lightening arc
I want to throw my body
over you, to shelter you
from the dark
I want to let the rainfall
be the rhythm that enhances
I want to let the thunder whisper
the intricacies of our dances
I want to let the lightening speak
of our most profound intimacies
I want this unusual occurrence
to be about just you and me

Just a twinkle in the night sky
A yearning to be someone
A sparkle in the darkest night
Your journey has just begun

Peanut…
Longing to grow into your long held dream
but at just little more than heart and soul
your sudden appearance holds me in thrall

Tadpole…
Swimming in a safe haven
developing on the wings of dreams
you start to understand what it all means

Little Human…
Longing for the world of open spaces
waiting to arrive, you see, you hear, you feel
to bring a touch to a life you can heal

Miracle…
A breath, a cry, held tight against warm skin
bursting into life with little fanfare
all your senses become aware

A shock of hair, a cupid smile
a perfect name to suit
an amazing gift from the Tree of Life
my precious Belly Fruit

© Helen Doogan 09/09/2010

I just want to wrap my hands
around your neck
and squeeze too hard for so long
that the petechial hemorrhage
that burst like an exploding universe
in your eyes, cries me a river of blood
My fingers simply twitch
to slap you for your travesty
so your head whips around
to look back on yesterday
I want to lay you down
like a spike strip on the highway
of my nightmares
so you can share the feeling
of being run over at 60 mile an hour
just so you know what it's like
when people stop to stare
at the car wreck of life
I want you to be the test dummy
of the most ill built car
and watch your spine snap
as you hurtle into space
at the dead end of a trap
I want you to be the fish
with the hook stuck in your gills
floundering, ill equipped,
unprepared to breathe air
I want you banged up, mangled,
discombobulated, eating dirt
and when you try to take
your next breath
you may know a fraction
of my hurt

When you are sitting at the bar
4 hours past midnight
It's not a pretty sight
Where nothing little nobody's
predicted in their field of pleasure
and the acres of green grass
chose at their own leisure
Goats and sheep for upkeep
like raiding a tomb for treasure
Sitting at the end of the bar
watching the byplay like ESPN
voicing Hits and Misses
and deep end missed plays
it's easier to stay disconnected
when you're just calling the game
except, at Last Call,
when all the goats and sheep
found someone to meet
to take home to make hay
and your just sitting,
sipping your tonic and gin
all you hear is
Hey! Last Call!
you can't stay, for another day
you go home alone
goats and sheep aren't your thing
but you think it's amazing
that you heard the bells
Last Call
you missed the play