"the guppy letters,
swim spring river current fast,
like little boys catch me fast who run past,
they cannot be caught and easy captured"
From "You, Your Best Poem"
~~~
the duo of little boys in my life,
a small percentage of my size,
yet,
somehow they are
Superman~adept
at getting past my grasp
just when I need to
precision tool them,
hug them air tight,
way way beyond just right,
conspiratorially whispering our
Socrates secrets
I cannot capture them,
for they caught me
a priori,
from the very inception of our
commonality starting line
yet when little boys hide and go seeking,
their diminution is ammunition
for their evasion and disappearance
from mine eyes
that lust for their touch,
their-skin-so-soft-it's-a-miracle
but persistence is an adult failing,
seek and ye shall find little boys,
giggling their passwords
under dining room tables,
the ceiling skies of the top bunk bed,
safe house places of young boys
take them home,
for a life-in-prison,
in the prison of a
adult's love for little men,
discontented by their never ending
growing up,
serial escape attempts
as they grow up,
and I grow down,
think that some day,
I will require
these skilled speedsters
(and their associated older sisters)
to
*"little boys catch me fast"*
happy in the knowing
that they,
now, trained so well
in the art of hugging,
will catch and capture
me
yet again
when I need it most
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 10:17 PM UTC
"the guppy letters,
swim spring river current fast,
like little boys catch me fast who run past,
they cannot be caught and easy captured"
From "You, Your Best Poem"
~~~
the duo of little boys in my life,
a small percentage of my size,
yet,
somehow they are
Superman~adept
at getting past my grasp
just when I need to
precision tool them,
hug them air tight,
way way beyond just right,
conspiratorially whispering our
Socrates secrets
I cannot capture them,
for they caught me
a priori,
from the very inception of our
commonality starting line
yet when little boys hide and go seeking,
their diminution is ammunition
for their evasion and disappearance
from mine eyes
that lust for their touch,
their-skin-so-soft-it's-a-miracle
but persistence is an adult failing,
seek and ye shall find little boys,
giggling their passwords
under dining room tables,
the ceiling skies of the top bunk bed,
safe house places of young boys
take them home,
for a life-in-prison,
in the prison of a
adult's love for little men,
discontented by their never ending
growing up,
serial escape attempts
as they grow up,
and I grow down,
think that some day,
I will require
these skilled speedsters
(and their associated older sisters)
to
*"little boys catch me fast"*
happy in the knowing
that they,
now, trained so well
in the art of hugging,
will catch and capture
me
yet again
when I need it most
Request permission to use this poem