When I think back now to when I was little (to when I was young)
The words "I love you" I don't think were ever spoken, not in our house anyway (now I could be wrong)
It would have been something silly to say
That was something you'd only hear in a Hollywood movie
Between glamorous movie stars, glamorous people
It wasn't part of our reality
If you were feeling anxious about something and needed comforting
You'd be told not to worry, that you were being silly
You'd be given a hug maybe or 'a treat' something nice
Usually something sweet, a biscuit and a hot cup of sugary tea or cocoa
A chocolate sweet if there were any
You'd be allowed to stay up late and watch the late shows on TV
Me! I was always a terrible worrier just like my Mom
Food most often was the comforter, the soother, the remedy to all
(Some say our relationship with food is the closest relationship we ever have in Life).

Yea! I don't think the words "I love you" were spoken where we grew up
Our parents they loved us as best they could
But they didn't have the words, the words to say it
It was strange...it was almost like they were forbidden to.
Of course, you could love your neighbor alright and your neighbor's neighbor
And your neighbor's neighbors neighbor's neighbor
And all the feckin' neighbors in the whole feckin' world
But the one thing you couldn't, you mustn't do
Was love yourself, this was the Big No No, the Big taboo, the Great Evil
It was the one thing you must never do,
And every Sunday at church, the priest way up on his pulpit
He'd never tire of telling us
How evil and selfish and bad the Self was
And all the bad things it got up to
Yea, your neighbor was always better than you were
Put your neighbor above yourself always
Love your neighbor and you'd be alright
That was the message loud and clear.

                               2

So, so we got treats instead of words of love when we were little
On Friday nights when Dad would come home from work and the pub
He'd always have with him lovely Apple Turnover buns
And a bag of crisps for each of us
And so, we'd all sit there together in the evening in front of the telly
After the maelstrom of the school week with  its lessons and scary teacher
Trying so hard to understand and get your homework done,
And despite all we'd laugh and enjoy the TV shows
And this... this was Love, us all just sitting there with our buns and munching our crisps just watching the TV together
Knowing we belonged and that we were loved kind of...as best they could
And that we had a couple of days off, days of freedom
Before we'd have to go back to school again,
It didn't get any better than this.

And when we'd be going down the country to see our Uncle John
My Dad would always stop off to visit a pub
And he'd get us a Club orange and a packet of crisps
It couldn't get any better than this... this was Love
The lovely sweet taste of that fizzy Club orange juice
And those wonderful salty cheese and onion flavoured (potato) crisps or maybe salt and vinegar flavour
Or later on, lovely smokey bacon flavour,
As we'd sit there Dad would be talking to the barman or some of the locals
But we didn't care what was being said, it didn't matter to us
It didn't get any better than this
This was heaven... this was Bliss.

Sometimes during the summer months before we could get summer jobs
Maybe it'd be raining outside and we'd be stuck indoors and bored
But then Mum would up and say "I know I'll make some chips"
Now Mum's chips were really something special, they'd be lovely big chunky potato chips, hand cut
And maybe she'd have beans in tomato sauce with them,
And maybe there'd be a good film on in the afternoon
Well, this was it, nothing could top that, a good film and a plate of Mum's big chunky chips and beans
Sometimes she'd even make these lovely mince beef pies
With minced beef and flour and onions, salt and pepper on them
And they were really something else
It couldn't get any better than this... and this... this was Love
(I can still remember the kind of meals we ate
And my Mum in the kitchen, and my Dad).

                            3

It's how people grow up in the end I suppose
They find someone inspiring, some teacher or book that makes a strong impression on them (if their lucky)
Or a partner who broadens their horizons, makes them question things and expands their vision of life and all its wondrous possibilities
But what if you don't find those good books, those inspiring teachers
Those voices that'd offer you a better vision of tomorrow and what this life could be
What if you only found bad books, bad books purporting to be good
That'd rob you and leave you lost and desolate, fearful and confused
What if some of your teachers turned out to be alcoholics
That some even done away with themselves
What if the people you met were even more lost than you were yourself...

And you'd go to a job interview and the man, he'd look at you and say
"So, what are your aspirations in Life, what are your values, your goals, where do you see yourself a few years from now ?"
And you'd look back at him blankly, Aspirations! Values! Goals!
What are these words, what's he talking about...
What am I looking for in Life ?
To have some fun I suppose...maybe (if having fun was still legal now as an adult)
Fun!!! Whatever that was now ?
Or to get drunk and stay drunk, escape this grim world I'm in somehow
What am I looking for ?
You tell me...I don't know, what is there
For all I knew I may as well have said
"A Club orange and a packet of crisps".

                              4

Now the faces they have all faded away, the voices too, have all gone
There's only me here alone in this room
It's Friday evening and I've got a readymade dinner from the supermarket
Just need to pop it in the oven for a few minutes
And I got a Dvd from the Dvd store,
So I sit there and eat my dinner, I savour every bite
But still it doesn't last very long
And I can lick my plate but it doesn't make any difference
I can lick it all I like
But I can't make it last, and I can't bring them back again
Those people that are gone;
And the food, it doesn't taste the same, doesn't taste as good as it tasted back then
And the movies too, their not like the ones we used to watch...

When I die it'll probably be like that movie Citizen Kane, at the end his last words "Rosebud"
The name of his beloved childhood sleigh
He used slide on in the snow,
I'll say on my death bed "I too have a memory of Love and Joy, Yea!
A Club orange and a packet of crisps".

I will write poems about you
memorize your Starbucks order
(even if it's different each season)
ill hold your hand
play with your hair as you rest in my lap

I just want our love to be soft
something safe and warm
we can both crawl into
like hot cocoa after a snowstorm

Turn the lights on,
so you can see my body
shimmering,
glazed by the honey shea cocoa butter.
Like a crystal reflecting the vanilla notes of the sweet somethings floating off of your tongue.

I come to you, eyes focused on yours.
You mean so much to me,
enough for me to expose my body.
Look at me,
Tell me, what do you see...

I don't usually crave milk chocolate,
the warm and hypnotic taste,
pouring down my throat,
into my spirit.

I can't help it right now,
Because you have my hips in your grip,

Rocking and falling,
swinging and calling
baby
baby
I feel intoxicated in this honey shea cocoa butter.

I bite my lip,
and I reach in for a kiss
slipping,
sliding,
my mouth and yours,
reaching for each other,
to get closer
Caressing your body,
with my fingers,
writing love tones with my features

Trailing your art with my words,
writing them all with my tongue,
down
down
down


you're looking at me,
but not with just your eyes
exposed,
Your body's staring back at me too
shimmering with the honey shea cocoa butter

I didn't use to be this way
At least not with anyone else
But then you touched my soul
So Let me touch yours too

Shamed by my body for so long,
scars,
marks,
a healing broken heart.

Walls built by the past,
I didn't think I'd meet a soul that could get through the last
But you're a surprise

Looking at me
A hot chocolate serenity,
Love bites,
******* on your skin,
let me in
I want to touch your soul too

Let's make love, like a love poem can do

i bet you'd taste like chocolate
melting in my mouth
sweet and decadent
just give me one taste
of sweet love
a rich taste
of your cocoa kiss
and your silky lips

And it was one of those kind of days.
Enjoyment of the little things.
She filled both my hands.
My mind at ease,
She was very good at stuff like that.
Warm to the touch, my hands snug around her.
The way she smelled was life itself.
Flooding my nose with endless memory.
Deliciously swirled & tasted.
My insides fluttering in thought.
No longer empty but filled by anticipation.
This was the kind of weather she was made for.
Jeans, sweaters.
Lazy days to throw any old thing on and lounge around.
It was one of those kind of days she filled my mug,
My hands with hot chocolate.
Her being the very chocolate that warmed my soul

Of all things
Just because

the air has called winter's name
hot cocoa nights in our future
bundle up and light a fire
Christmas carols play as we fill the house with festive spirit

maybe next year i guess