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 Feb 2013 Polly o
Marian
Off to my haven I go,
To read my precious books,
While from the clouds falls snow;
And while I read I see how the landscape looks.

Sometimes I go there to cry,
And find much needed comfort there,
And when I get bored and I heave a sigh;
I go to my haven and sunshine once more pervades the air.

**~Marian~
 Feb 2013 Polly o
Scott T
Shot nerves
I need a girl
But you disgust me
Why can I not
connect?

This gap
I’m right in front of you
But it’s so wide

I have charm
I can make you smile
I can make you growl
for more
But I don’t want to

Glad to be unhappy?
Fasting subconsciously?
Maybe i'm happy with a missing piece
What future pleasure is there to be had
from a finished jigsaw?

O, mother
I can feel
The soil
Falling over my head
 Feb 2013 Polly o
Scott T
Its been years now
That she hides the bruises on her cheeks
With cheap concealer
To hide the violence of which her marriage reeks

It's been years now
That he wakes up every morning
And looks down at her skin
And feels nothing

His affection comes in spells
Ten minutes generally
Hers is well long gone
A speck you cannot see

They don't have love for each other
So why don't they just leave?
I guess this world's kind of lonely
For something to be worth this much grief
 Feb 2013 Polly o
Scott T
Too many **** poems
About not being able to sleep
Wide awake
Open eyes
Sweat
And thoughts
The usual ****
Why not talk about the thoughts?
It’s like writing a story about a pen
Or painting your brush
 Feb 2013 Polly o
LD Goodwin
There is a tattoo of Arlene on my chest.
Her naked figure covers my heart.
Every curve,
every fold, every shadow,
every subtle flesh toned perfection
that the artist's needle left behind
is my love.
Her colors,
soft ****** pink,
iris blue,
deep brunette hair.
And her lips....her flame red lips.
Her body snakes around mine
like ivy on a tree.
And when I move, she moves.
And when I sweat, she sweats.
And when my muscles flex,
she dances.
Her lips kiss me every day,
her fingers caress me and she is with me always.
Although I know this is just ink on skin,
there is a passion deep within,
it's what I have when she is not with me.

And if you look real hard,
there
on her breast,
is a tattoo of me as well.
Harrogate, TN  St. Valentine's Day 2013
 Feb 2013 Polly o
LD Goodwin
Summer bicycle
so unaware of the earth
spinning neath it's wheels.
Harrogate, TN    January 2013
 Feb 2013 Polly o
LD Goodwin
Yellow Eranthis
piercing through late Winter snow.
The promise of Spring
Harrogate, TN  February 2013
 Feb 2013 Polly o
LD Goodwin
Coffee with Wally,
someone who truly gets me.
No cream, no sugar.
Harrogate,TN  February 2013
*For my dear friend Wally*
 Feb 2013 Polly o
LD Goodwin
Most every night at the Stowaway Bar,
you can catch the old lounge lizard singer.
With his head full of rhythm and rhyme,
and his fake books full of songs,
he plays his blue guitar
and dreams about a young girl.

He fell in love with the wonderful girl
when she strolled into the bar.
And as he played his new guitar
she told him he was a great singer,
and she loved his beautiful songs
that would reel and ramble and rhyme.

And with every prophetic rhyme
he would sing to the lovely young girl
all of his best love songs,
as if there were no one else in the bar,
except her, the smoke, and the singer,
and the sound of his new guitar.  

But every night when he was through, he'd pack up his guitar
and put away his rhythm and rhyme,
and for awhile he was not that love song singer.
He'd looked around the smoky room for the girl
but she was nowhere in the bar
and all he had left were his tears and his love songs.

She said she loved his songs,
and the way he would play his guitar.
But now the smoke filled up the bar,
and he was out of rhyme.
For he had lost the beautiful girl
who wanted only the singer.

But he was only the singer,
and he was only the songs.
Although he missed the girl
Every night he would tune his blue guitar
and open his sad heart full of rhyme
and fill up the Stowaway Bar 
  
  And the old lounge lizard singer plays his blue guitar
singing prophetic songs that reel and ramble and rhyme
to a young girl who sits alone at the bar.
Harrogate, TN February 2013
Inspired by the many years I played the Stowaway Lounge in Ft. Walton Beach , FL.  Also a poem here on HP "Breaking Mirrors"  by somethingweknewwasours ....check it out!
 Feb 2013 Polly o
LD Goodwin
A
tree
fell on
the roof
of my truck
early last Spring.
Put there by a tornado,
a very very powerful thing.
I am glad it landed on my truck,
I am so glad it landed smack dab there.
It had 480, 692 miles on the old odometer,
the engine was so tired and all the seats threadbare.
You’d think I would be mourning it's unplanned passing,
but when the Insurance man came with a 3,300 dollar check,
although I knew my demolished truck was only worth 700 bucks,
I took it
and said
what the
heck !!!!!
Harrogate, TN  February 2013
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