Have you ever been punched in the neck
by a man who's twice your height?
He was aiming for my chin I think,
but he'd had a drink
and it was rather dark that night.
Have you ever been locked in a room
with a man bent on destruction?
Seen him break his fists on the walls?
Then turn on you?
It's an unforgettable instruction
in the
delicate
art
of love
Oct 25, 2010
Oct 25, 2010 at 6:51 PM UTC
She knows all the words to the right songs
though she sings them all slightly off key.
She runs through this world
in the wrong dress,
yet she walks in the room and the men turn to see
if it's her, and their girlfriends all elbow and stare,
sending dagger looks through pregnant air,
sulking, and flicking their hair.
Yet she never once means them a moment of harm
she'd not touch their men with her green Irish charm.
She goes her own way, and she's happy to play
on her own, if only your men,
felt the same, and would leave her alone.
Oct 25, 2010
Oct 25, 2010 at 6:10 PM UTC
You can see Mars with the naked eye
though it's low in the sky
at this time of year.
You can see the whole of the Pleiades
all seven sisters, designed to tease
unless you look away.
It's two years since I looked away.
The road back is long gone.
The spaces in between the stars
show me where I went wrong.
These clear nights make me see forever.
But only into the past.
My heart longs now for cloudy weather,
Although I know it will not last.
Oct 25, 2010
Oct 25, 2010 at 5:57 PM UTC
I just can't, for the life of me
recall the proper recipe!
Was it eye of toad and ear of bat?
Or skin of newt and tail of rat?
I really don't know where I'm at
but if I get it wrong, that's that!
Nada! Zip! For me and you,
one smelly potion and no love, true
or otherwise, what's a witch to do
with a cauldron that is full of glue???
When I lift it from the oven
I'll be laughed out of the Coven
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 10:18 AM UTC
At Lincolns Inn in London town
where crowds and traffic rush and hum
there stands a lone, forgotten tree
a Cercis Siliquastrum.
It isn't straight and isn't tall
It leans like it's about to fall
It's aspect is a silent call
but no one these days cares at all.
This shy, retiring, gentle tree
marked for all time by infamy,
stains rugged bark as red as blood
reminding us that God is good.
It sets forth flowers bright as flame
in blushing pink it shows its shame.
It wears its portion of the blame
for here's a tree that knows its name.
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 10:16 AM UTC
The birds have fallen silent.
Dancing Meadowsweet stands still.
The airs intaken breath is paused.
The world awaits until
his hand reclaims the pen once more.
Scribes verse upon the ream.
For he's the final Poet.
Lonley dreamer of the dream.
Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 10:01 AM UTC
A wealth of meaning can be found
within two letters, barely sound.
A breeze through leaves.
A slithering snake.
Water on shingle that laps a lake.
A softly, soothing lullaby.
The end of a secret.
The start of a lie.
A Chinese whisper.
A smoking gun.
The turning page of a story begun.
Astonishments laughter.
Admonishments pain.
The Wit’s last resort
and the Fool’s refrain
Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 2:26 PM UTC
You promised you'd be there.
You said, and you swore.
and though I'm not bitter,
my heart's still sore.
You said, and you swore
as you walked away,
my heart's still sore
yet I'll live out the day.
As you walked away,
and though I'm not bitter,
yet I'll live out the day
you promised you'd be there.
Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 1:22 PM UTC
I miss you.
While reading Wordsworth in the sun,
those woven words I would have spun,
I wonder if you're having fun?
and still
I miss you.
Three words I swore I wouldn't say,
for they give all the game away
though now I have no hand to play
yet still
I miss you.
I wish that you were with me now
you made the best of me somehow
caused me to laugh at every row
and so
I miss you.
I wonder what you did today
and if you're happier this way?
Or do you think of me and say
sometimes
I miss you.
No other words can quite convey
that part of each and every day
is yours. The only thing I pray
is not to
miss you.
Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 1:03 PM UTC
There's a time.
In the dance.
When you know that
you're taking a chance.
With a curve.
And a twist.
And you're praying
you don't break her wrist.
But you're filled
with the thrill
of the thought
that you'll hold her until
she is claimed
by the dance
with the next man
who's promised romance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And you long for her to look
straight into your adoring eyes.
You want to keep her near you,
safe from other fellows lies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
But you still
let her go,
hoping someday
she'll know
how you longed
for her charms
as she twirled
in his arms.
Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 12:52 PM UTC