The password we always use
The recurring dream
our favorite type of abuse
our self-esteem
What we are hungry for at midnight
What we feel bad about taking
whose hands we hold too tight
whose heart we are breaking
I want to be the one who rocks you to sleep
And feel your warmth as you curl up next to me
I want your face to be the last thing that I see
I want to be your everything
I want to be the one to hold you tight
And keep you safe and warm all through the night
Hiding from the world until it's light
I want to be your everything
I want your safe place to be in my arms
The place where you go to hide from all harm
I want to be the one to hold your hand
The one who's lucky to call himself your man
And when you wake, I want my smile to be
The very first thing that you see
You're the best thing that's ever happened to me
So I want to be your everything
Yes, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me
So darling, won't you be my everything?
Fights
They throw words like little hand grenades
because in our house, we cannot use fists
(I feel that those would hurt less)
and he,
small boy full of rage and sound and not much else
with fists balled to tight
each wanting to strike out, to break his sister's stupid face
Searching through the catacombs of his mind he thought only of falling through a war chest
searching for some sharpened bone or anything to use
he was a skilled warrior of the shadows
with one jab he could thrust thorns through her guarded heart
the precision of a sibling sniper on his side
he had wounded her before
he almost always won
but his wretched
sister
refused to lose this time
refused to be out manipulated
She too had been training
sharpening a silver tongue
that usually served as a shield to her brother's barbs and wicked advances
but today it was a dagger
and assassin for the old king
"You never loved me," he lunged with a flourish
She parried with a cuss word and a sigh
he danced aside, and jabbed at her flank
"I'm going to jump off the cliff" he declared
she scowled
this move usually did her in, but with one glare, she kicked the sword from his hand, and rounded upon him
no fencing foil was on her, no seemly battle ax
but a dagger
and she drew in close
the killing blow
"You are only my half brother" she whispered
and he
was vanquished
The battle done, the two sunk to their knees
and sobbed
Fights
They throw words like little hand grenades
because in our house, we cannot use fists
(I feel that those would hurt less)
All I saw was an ass - twitching;
as it sashayed through the doorway,
pert n tight n denim clad,
think the legs were rather fine too,
not too sure though,
the ass kinda jiggled in an intoxicating
hypnotic rhythmic fashion,
sorta "♫bum didi bum didi bum bum bum,♫"
it was muscular, without being overly developed,
I had a really deep desire to bite it;
chew on it a liddle !
God loves a hill and he made them round
God loves them auburn and he made them brown
he made them firm and he made them soft
and how they move as they walk only God so talks
(I stop what I'm doing and I pretend not to watch.)
I’m a cannonball that’s untethered loosed
I’m the deck on a ship
who doesn't love a good storm
they come as dappled light
upon my forest floor
filtering through the trees
and I’d swear in their presence
I become a cathedral
I can sense their divinity
they take my breath here's when:
when all the air is sucked out from the room
I'm in
it's how puzzle pieces fit
and they know they just belong
it's about how nature loves a crooked line
who doesn't love a crooked song
it’s about take Botticelli when Venus
emerged from the sea a fully grown woman:
paint her some clothes on
and if I may Lord
if only to
allude
hint
suggest
this blessing from which sprang
the most beauteous bountiful
and bouncy of your creations
from out of your vastness
incomprehensible and magnificent
from the source of all song
have mercy on us Lord
who can resist fragility and blue steel
that mix of loose with tight
the stillness and the storm
the soft on the edge of firm
the contrast of a thousand turns
the dark weaves in da light
you killing me Lord
you killing me
in your magnificence.
Tourist, who gave her eyes
to the fishes and the sharks.
Ingenue queen of the lingering darkness.
Tourista, chain smoking in the rain.
Perfumed winds blow from her mouth
dizzying the Phoenician sailors with longing for her shores.
And the moths circle,
searching for her cable knit heart.
And I will go back to my darling,
my darling tourista,
when you my darling are gones.
Us being strangers of the night
and enemies in hollow places.
Tourista prays to ooze juicily
at last round the bearded lips of God.
Tourista swallows sleep
and swallows deep.
Tourista lost in translation
between valley girl slang and punk rock idols.
Pushing pushing pushing, push em.
Tourista of the long white neck, neglected.
Free of love nibbles and nicotine kisses.
Though she longs for their ghosts
and strokes the scars of their cousins.
Her screaming, rolling head full of tinder and ready to ignite.
Like the loveliest of hand grenades.
Tourista who's heart swells and empties with the tides,
all Jackson Pollucked up inside.
The punch line of every joke. The object of every desire.
And tourista rattles with wheezing.
Tourista vacant. Accepting reservations.
Calling dimply she prays to the highway dogs
and hound dogs and squealing pups.
Tourista of the pure soul, sprinkling virgin lamplight
like vestal seeds.
Though she implores every living thing to dampen the flame.
Hold tight, says tourista, happiness is surely near.
But she hides it away in her bedside table and hopes she will forget.
I 'm not saying
I'm not right or wrong
I'm just saying
For the sake of a song
Dylan was never wrong
His words always strong
Townes was always tight
He shined a light
For the sake of the song
Neal is a brilliant write
His music such delight
For the sake of the song
You can't go wrong
When you write strong.
John liked it
Sam liked it
Oscar, philipa and James liked it
Penny she really liked it
Leo loved it but there was no love it button
So he liked it all the same
Which was ok
Surely love
Is made up of all the likes or so Leo thought any how
jasmine hated it
Christine well she couldn't be bothered to read right now so clicked write a poem so she could create her own little masterpiece
That Inturn could be liked by the masses
Grace
She stopped a while
Grace connected
Grace was inspired
Grace left a comment
The comment read
'I really like this'
People rush around to fast
But for the grace of god
Hold tight to the likes
Tomorrow the dislike button May be around
Then we'll all be in trouble
Criss cross
Applesauce
Spiders running down your back
I climbed out my window
and jumped
I acquired a few bruises
but not from the fall
His breath reeked of stale beer
The first time I had no where to turn
The outcome of abuse and soft kisses
a mean look in your eyes
pumpkin pie
I hope you survive
quite whispers of melodies
your mother used to sing
salt water tastes like childhood
Cool breeze
Tight squeeze
Now I've got the shiveries
Ideally and really
I'd like to take and hold you tight
But I suppose that you would suppose
I would then want to kiss those
lips of yours
and you'd be right.
Take the leap
of faith
I'll keep
my arms open wide
you're welcome deep down inside
my heart.
