#kitbag poems on Hello Poetry

Kitbag of Words Nov 14

this fear well known to me,
for my truth is captive held
within, fearing the honesty
that seeks to liberate it
from the cages where it’s hid

lesser my mettle, the truth periodically
spills over. and my fleeing is not
freeing for the fear travels fast,
spine, legs, hands trembling treble
honesty a disease, never a by your leave,
or a pretty please, just a bandage ripped,
and the skin, rawed from within,
and now from without, and I pray
til the fear in me subsides

Sometimes When We Touch
Song by Dan Hill

You ask me if I love you
And I choke on my reply
I'd rather hurt you, honestly
Than mislead you with a lie
And who am I to judge you
On what you say or do?
I'm only just beginning
To see the real you
And sometimes when we touch
The honesty's too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I wanna hold you 'til I die
'Til we both break down and cry
I wanna hold you
'Til the fear in me subsides
Romance and all its strategy
Leaves me battling with my pride
But through the insecurity
Some tenderness survives
I'm just another writer
Still trapped within my truth
A hesitant prize fighter
Still trapped within my youth
Sometimes when we touch
The honesty's too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I wanna hold you 'til I die
'Til we both break down and cry
I wanna hold you
'Til the fear in me subsides
At times I'd like to break you
And drive you to your knees
At times I'd like to break through
And hold you endlessly
At times I understand you
And I know how hard you've tried
I've watched while love commands you
And I've watched love pass you by
At times I think we're drifters
Still searching for a friend
A brother or a sister
But then the passion flares again
And sometimes when we touch
The honesty's too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I wanna hold you 'til I die
'Til we both break down and cry
I wanna hold you
'Til the fear in me subsides
Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Barry Mann / Dan Hill

#fear #subsides #kitbag

Kitbag of Words Sep 13

liquid shrewdness

not my word juxtaposition,
pleased to still from the
opinion pages of the esteemed
well street journal, on that street
where I plied, played lost some,
won more over the inevitable
longer run

but the phrase oozed familiarity,
we all know the type, the next door
neighbor who stink of shredded
shrewdness under the black slapping
red faced nose a poking, the insurance
salesman who won’t sell u what you
want/need, but the higher premium
is just what you’re looking for, just
sign here

thank god i always wrote poetry so
could not compose with those stains
on my holy souly that would have
****** me to failure as a speculator

no, kept my counsel closed, my enemies
closer, and thank god made through that
thirty year stretch left me with many bad
habits, lying was not one of them, but,
just, don’t ask me for my true name,
and the only liquid I’ll proffer is clean
bottled water

#kitbag #liquid #shrewdness

Kitbag of Words Jan 2018

an incredible incite, the ruthless volatility of words

an incredible incite (the ruthless volatility of words)

~for L.B.~

the only place of solitaire solitude in the city accompanies me
like a faithful country dog that doesn’t know better to be afraid,
of moving cars, sleepless night terrors and unscripted “dreams”

where image and words say come “follow me” with ruthlessness and no cloying come hither looks and
see and take and recall with perfect midnight blue sky clarity for

the incredible incite of credible insight

surfacing unexpectedly in a intemperate pool of slushy snow,
that will be an ice storm of painful confrontations with naked
inner truths standing outside in sunny sub zero playground

there is great risk. volatility gone wild. when the speed
governor is removed and you live at 100 mph on local streets,
when the merest slight of an accidental incidental touch
transforms into an incite incident and hell is the threat
that you will not die today and your own words will ruthless
pull from the nerve places where sensible and sensual cannot
coexist and this write this script is a poetical insight inside, an
incredible incite and what your spilling is spaghetti sauce blood
when you left your brain on broil, instead of the faking daily of
slow simmering ineffectual intellectual words that just don’t
cut the crap. your addiction complete, you cannot live without
the incredible incite, the ruthless volatility of words,
otherwise why rough write what you see
in the blind
beyond the blind

1/6/18 5:03am

Twelfth Night, Act 1, Scene 5
“I took great pains to study and ’tis poetical

#kitbag #an #incredible #incite #the #ruthless #volatility #of #words

Kitbag of Words Sep 2018

daily provisioning

wallet watch testicles spectacles
cash cell phone (yes the inshallah one)
bottle of water hairbrush with remaining vanity attached,
personal technology baggie (earbuds, variety of charging cords etc.)
loose change in order to drop & annoy yourself
sunglasses! and something else...mmm
pocket tissues!

skin and bone, all flavors and multilayers,
a language of music only you hear,
the pumping station internal,
the antacid pills after that burrito;
and that strangely named thang called
libido? (lipidio?)

your teeth your smile, your shyest guile,
to catch that lady’s hopefully reciprocated pearly whites delight,
pen and pad to record being a sad and mad good lad,
a swiss army knife if the feeling tube should breakdown,
your tiny little bottles of inspiration perspiration and perspective,
oops, unlabeled?
uh oh

the list to do and the
list to add to the to do list
and good heavens,
a serious writing utensil
for serious thoughts
and the last but should be first,
the house keys!!

to do it all again tomorrow

**** forgetting something!

oh yeah!

a kiss upon thy cheek before you go...

#daily #provisioning #kitbag #testicles #wallet

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