Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Amanda Sant'Anna Aug 2020
His river encountered my waters
Flowing wild like the ocean
My waves curled around him
So we could grow bigger
And bigger
And his fishes, we both have them now
So we grew richer
And richer
Then the rain saw our love, so pure
And she blessed us,
So we grew fuller
And fuller
Each night we danced to the moon
Each day we sang to the sun
And we made them both so proud
They gave us light to guide the way
So we grew wider
And wider
Until there was no more space to grow
Then we rested
Nested by thin air
So still, so nurtured
Life herself looked at us
And Death herself looked too
They came down for a swim
In perfect comunion
We were everything.
Michael John  Aug 2017
the quarry
Michael John Aug 2017
and nature and love....

she stretches long
a china dove
fragile songs

the one
the witch..
the one stood
at the pit..

the burning voices..
i have never heard
such voices since..
some times i was afraid..

it was beautiful sound
held me spellbound
i ****
i freaked...

but looked on and
i thought what it
i would take a false

i could tell the sexes
the women really
i stood and stared..

if my wellington became
and nearley
falling over..

they grew louder..
because as a child
nature is begnine..
i thought about this..
and stared...

there were quivering colours
years of lsd..later..
but i was 8
8 and ****
there was the wildest

crow like saint beelzibub..
stood behind
in that quiet quarry
after was seemed a long

time..he looked deep
in me..
this was my first
and then he flew away..

his total me..i have never
seen like him again..
i was living..
he put something

where was only empty
he had crazy energy
but the voices..went..
i was quite happy

and sad when they
went..but he placed
in me something i
could not place..laugh!

but he said too
you will never
tie my shoe.
i kind of agree that.. might be proud
you might understand..
i went back and there were
two big police men

standing outside..the pit
was now blocked..
a narrow way
with chipboard and barbed wire..

and here began my love of the abstract..
now i stared at that instead..
and wondered
something occured
i did wonder how could such

a dangerous place..
no bird songs
the water sky face
madness wrong
evils birth..


the bad spirit lurked
or was it fact good
the voices called
if maybe should
death is love..

come on child..
the women sang
of love
and the more
i thought..

they must be beautiful!
the more beautiful
they sounded..
and a great ******..
joyful comunion..

it was wild..
i went back sometimes
the quiet
got in..

no voices..
and then
the thing
i wonder

— The End —