She is a mass of contradictions, smooth curves and sharp tongue, soft skin and hard thoughts, happy mouth and sad eyes. An alluring curiousity, she travels with the freak show; under constant scrutiny. Beauty struggles under harsh lighting, grotesque truth brought to the fore. Free within a cage To which you hold the key. Redundant wings now used To cover her face.
Lone duck, bitten by an insane urge, turns and turns, endlessly on water plane, creates a churn, a pattern on water, as if to meet itself in a moment of stillness in between, when will it happen? His life passes as that illusion still lasts.
I'm going on a trip It's a little ways away Maybe $20 in gas Will get me there today To Fornax Chemica The White Tiger of the West Hubble's going to catch me And maybe wish me best Travelling 60 million light years May take a little while But the lovely constellation Will surely bring a smile
I found heaven on earth In my room last night All it took was one touch And I felt myself take flight And in my solitude I don't need anyone else You may call it sin, I call it falling in love with myself
Of course my 100th poem on here had to be about *******. I checked the guidelines before writing this and I hope this doesn't count as obscene although I don't see how it would since ******* is normal and perfectly natural.