Sigismund Schlomo Freud
Was strangely not overjoyed
On finding his brother
In bed with his mother
Jan 14, 2025
Jan 14, 2025 at 5:46 PM UTC
What would you do if you were loved,
Wrapped in another’s hopes and dreams,
Would you stifle, like a fire under rain,
Or grow tall in his sunlight?
Some will never seek to know,
Some hide their faces from the light,
when once it shines upon them,
Others yet will slip away,
To never know what might have been.
But some will walk the sunlit meadow,
And laugh, and dance, and drink and love,
With flowers in their hair.
So what, prey tell, will you?
Jan 6, 2025
Jan 6, 2025 at 12:17 PM UTC
My electronic conscience
Tracks my activity
From its box
On the bookshelf
Jan 6, 2020
Jan 6, 2020 at 7:21 AM UTC
Albert Camus
Is smarter than yus
I arrived at this vus
By comparing the twus
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 5:46 PM UTC
He loved her for the girl that once she was,
When he himself was but a boy
Languid in his longing for the song in her eyes
And the sense of her touch in the dreamless dark
Through other brief loves the magic held
Though year, on gathering year, the memories declined
Until he held again a young girl’s weight
In his yet firm embrace
Through empty gaze and bitter words
She poured upon his unfamiliar brow
He loved her yet, for all that she had been
Cradling her shadow in his arms
Until, awakening to find her gone
He dressed her for the final time
Kissed her pale wide forehead,
And let the tears, undammed, fall now, salting their woven hands
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
She was Dim Sum.
Insubstantial.
Too hot on the inside.
But rapidly cooling.
And she was gone
Before dinner.....
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 1:54 PM UTC
What is the gulf
Between moggy
And doggy?
Why is it that
The cat
Is an autocrat?
And the hound
Is renowned
As nice to have around?
Some people make a beeline
For the feline
Others show elation
On ‘spotting’ a Dalmatian
Though each may rejoice
In their choice
The cat will embrace
His rightful place
Above the human race
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 2:22 PM UTC
She gazed out from her cave as the man rowed by,
A roguish look in his pirate's eye,
And yet, when he came, she did not withdraw,
As he sprang from his boat to the desolate shore,
And rose twixt them such vision of desire,
That each was consumed by the other's fire,
For what is a man, if he loves not?
And what, a woman, if she be forgot?
And each they sought, in the other's embrace,
That languid, loving, longed for place,
Where may be seen, and felt, and heard,
A look, and a touch, and a whispered word...
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 1:46 PM UTC
Was he the morning you remember,
with coffee, warm in bed, and the sun shining on the water?
Did he fill your eyes, with his lopsided smile?
Could you picture a future, could you feel his absent touch?
Did you glimpse him in the face of others, seek to catch and hold the feeling, all too quickly gone?
Was he there in the hollow dawn, in the empty spaces between the words?
And was he the answer,
to a question unasked?
Could you have loved him, had he loved you not?
For you are scribed in violet ink on the lacuna in his heart.
And he loves you.
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 1:33 PM UTC