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  Nov 2015 Minx In Verse
Andrew Switzer
Dying love in a gilded cage,
Imprisoned by my pent up rage.
You never loved me, but neither did I,
The last gift you gave was the gift of goodbye.
Minx In Verse Jan 2015
I once compared you to the shipping forecast
A soothing distraction for an unsettled mind
But this was not a low
You were the one who left me drowning
Threw me a lifebelt and a shark whistle
And told me to save myself
He was the one who never gave up the search
Found me and hoisted me to dry land.

I lost myself in you and can't get myself back
My soul like so many pieces of driftwood
Carried away on the waves
All out at sea.
Was listening to Blur's This Is A Low and thought about the someone who had let me down. Took the shipping forecast analogy from the song but this is the very opposite. He was a comforting campanion, like listening to the shipping forecast but when the storm hit he could not (or would not) help.
  Jan 2015 Minx In Verse
My heart
Is a happy drunk
A little too open
A little too optimistic
It's over in the corner of the bar
Playing poker
Screaming at the top of it's lungs
When it's never
To this day
Had a winning hand

My heart
Is a sad drunk
A little too lonely
A little too caught up in tears
It's over at the counter
Forcing the bartender to take its keys
Because it would rather not go home
Than go home alone again

My heart
Is a reckless drunk
A little too unbalanced
A little too impaired
It's over by the door
Making everyone nervous
A little too good at scaring people away
A little too far gone

Like you
A little too far gone
Turn your head
Shuffle away and pretend you don't notice
The breakdown of a heart
Too drunk on feelings
To know when to stop
  Jul 2014 Minx In Verse
Pablo Neruda
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
Minx In Verse Jul 2014
I swam in your seas
Dived depths to plunder treasures
From the dark ocean floor
Felt the tumult of your soul crash over me
Floated with you on calm blue waters warmed by the sun
Lapping waves rhythmically revealing belly, breast, pearlescent scales, hair red as flame.

Your lips formed a half-smile
As you sang your siren song
And I surrendered myself to an eternity of pleasures
Now I am cast adrift, rudderless
No horizon in sight
Endlessly searching for a glimpse of you.
Love the idea of mermaids and myths and fairy tales about them. Wanted to write something fantastical that also captures the longing for a passionate relationship long past.
Minx In Verse Jul 2014
An empty room lies waiting
Cold, curtain drawn but clean
Hiding lust in unseen corners
Away from the white bulb glare
No floorboard creaking, mattress squeaking
Life speaking
I wrote this when I was 17 and still a ****** - in the sixth form and couldn't wait to leave school and go out in the big wide world. Now I look back and realise it was one of the best times - for forging friendships and having fun.  The poem feels unfinished but I've never been able to add to it.
  Jul 2014 Minx In Verse
C. S. Lewis
Against too many writers of science fiction

Why did you lure us on like this,
Light-year on light-year, through the abyss,
Building (as though we cared for size!)
Empires that cover galaxies
If at the journey's end we find
The same old stuff we left behind,
Well-worn Tellurian stories of
Crooks, spies, conspirators, or love,
Whose setting might as well have been
The Bronx, Montmartre, or Bedinal Green?

Why should I leave this green-floored cell,
Roofed with blue air, in which we dwell,
Unless, outside its guarded gates,
Long, long desired, the Unearthly waits
Strangeness that moves us more than fear,
Beauty that stabs with tingling spear,
Or Wonder, laying on one's heart
That finger-tip at which we start
As if some thought too swift and shy
For reason's grasp had just gone by?
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