I'm not going to search high and low for the right words and flow
I'm simply going to say, how I'm going to play
I can't be bothered with euphemism today
I'm looking at your body and face
Aroused in the right place
You get in to my body and head
It's how you take me off to bed
I close my eyes and bite my thumb
Thinking of the journey I'm on
My thighs tense controlled
As my hips slowly roll
The vibration between my legs
More and more intense
Back and forth
Body in battle
Of holding on
Or giving in
No longer desire
A passionate fire
But I chose to burn
Let it all return
the song of the soul
is different from the voice that comes out
sang from the true self
only a few others can pick up
a tune only one, or none at all,
might be able to understand
it plays for as long as a lifetime
there's only one tune
until other tunes are learned
I have no reservations at all in loving You
and saying this is my proof of it being true.
You're the only one who sees into my heart
no matter where I am though it seems apart.
I can't hide any of my feelings towards You
that rise up from within whatever I may do.
They're so strong at times I'm beside myself
and find that I am acting as such like an elf.
If they really do not draw You closer to me
then I'm bereft of Your love and needn't be.
Please don't hold back in giving any advice
as to how I will be able Your love to entice.
Pure love isn't a game that anyone can play
but is reserved for those who go all the way.
I didn't want it to be this way
So I played safe and hid away
Those feelings deep down that I ignored
are now guests at my front door
Guess you could say that this is my fault
I just thought that this is how I'd adult
Doing what I please, saying "fuck it, why not"
lead me to this day; it was a lesson to be taught.
Is his mixed up dream a long, long journey:
noisy, jolting, terrifying? He remembered
a wind cold against his ears, for the first time
the chill was sweet. But night was coming.
The sun was behind clouds - was it clouds,
or was it shelter, smoke rising red? Words printed
on muslin curtains, just like a house.
Steps to the back door, a canvas screen fastened
to cheerful fire burning on the grass.
He turned and fled. Pattering feet behind him
fell in a heap, what? what? what?
No alarm, no cross-over. He filled the pot
from the warmth of the fire. Only vaguely
had he admired the damp, apologetic starling,
who was pecking a hole in the sun
to ride with the circus. Quite right,
lucky he found the far away tomorrow.
i fell in love with the way you looked,
lying there naked in the pale light,
with the blanket tangled between your legs.
i wanted to trace the veins in your hips,
my lips kissing past the shadows,
breathing you in and exhaling love out.
i fell in love with the way you looked at me,
eyes half closed and dark with lust,
as i brought my hands down your chest.
i wanted to memorize the way you breathed my name,
slow and low - the way you moaned for me,
and how you shivered under my touch.
The shadowy wall potently pays
Tribute to an open door.
Because the door will know
How to shut itself,
While the wall is just
A bean stalk with the gift
Of making a bit
The low witch would walk
from the Concrete bean stalk
As the wall would burn
And the shadow would turn
The witch's own shadow
Into a mice meadow.
And the witch hates mice
When throwing the dice
On the shadowy floor
Of the room with no door,
With no lock
To the dock
Where the concrete bean stalk
So the witch stays away
From the mice and the hay
Of her meadow-growing
Steps of annoying
Rhymes yours truly
Has made to undress
A reader's curiosity.
i'd give anything
to hold those hands again
those hands which have
caressed piano keys
and carefully held my broken heart
which you do all too well
i'd buy every piano
and score sheet in the world
if it meant for you to play again
i'd break my heart over and over
if it meant for you to be here
and hold me together again
i'd give anything and my everything
to hold the hands of the piano man