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grumpy thumb Sep 2017
Flea ridden
pigeons
playing Russian roulette
with pedestrians
and winning.
Heard they see in slow motion,
well there's a couple outside on the pavement
free entertainment
as I wait for a lady with auburn tresses
to come stepping
through the comotion
of city bustle and pigeon hustle.
She's not one for dresses,
though she undresses
ballerina fluid,
smooth in movement,
flowing liquid.
She smiles and I'm reminded
there's still goodness
in this old world of ours
grumpy thumb Sep 2017
You stop me dead in my tracks
like a roadside ghost
searching for phantoms cast
by the glow of your eye
when you said that you love me,
I'm expecting a lie to lurk
from the vulnerable part
I've tried to hide
cause I've heard it before
returned the word too
of four letters
more than once.
Insecurity set to pounce,
should I bale or sabotage this revelation your perfect mouth poured into my ear but you couldn't hear
the bleeding, seeping, weeping
echoes from yesteryear.
On another road
when my love was hurled back
killing something inside
leaving a ghost on the tracks.
Some memories slap you hard. Old issues, pass the tissues. A tad sentimental about an older me... though I was younger...
grumpy thumb Sep 2017
When you Fall in love
no guessing how you'll land
never as planned
could strike it lucky
tick all the boxes like
noughts and crosses
impulsive as lips's
compulsive kisses
vows and promises,
but sometimes
you run dry of suprises.
It can wither and splinter
beyond reconciliation
through nobody's fault
despite careful consideration.
Perhaps you never land
when you fall in love
only when you fall out.
Just musing nothing personal
grumpy thumb Sep 2017
Picked a star's flicker
behind a thinly streched shroud
of cloud
not long did it linger
before rain came down
and washed poor incy star out.
Did it jingle
as it twinkled goodbye?
No,
just the wish of a fool
with nothing better to do
than look for one last celestial wink
as his clothes get soaked.
grumpy thumb Aug 2017
She asked,
"What are you thinking?"
But I was just being
while
staring at the ceiling.

Wouldn't let it go
so an old thought was recycled
about life and an icicle
unsure of the season
and if it knew the ozone was bleeding.
Should it be busy worrying
or thinking,
or carry on simple enjoying
being freezing?

She shook her head, "Honestly, is that the best you got
for me?"
I shrugged and went back to my ceiling
happy and content in the presence of her being
grumpy thumb Aug 2017
How many mens thoughts have filled up this glass,
how many mens eyes searched your abyss
How many mens lips touched you last.
How many men squandered hours in your repast.
How many mens regrets have come to pass
in the company of you?
grumpy thumb Aug 2017
His shoulders wilted
like the petals of a weary cafe flower.

low as a fading iodine evening light.

Drained trying to understand
those last riverlets of kisses  
that douced his contours

parceled cushions of a lovers mouth
dripped lush droplets
of breath and promises.

The same mouth

that shuddered sorries

before
uttering goodbye
forever more.
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