#bristol - Hello Poetry

I should make my way down to Bristol To give you a good old fistful I’d play you like a bass guitar You know I’d follow the beat As your knees get weak Sneak my way into your memoir Scribbled my actions like I was Jason and the Argonauts Maybe you’re the elusive Golden Fleece Forever hoping I’m not just an afterthought ‘Cause to me you’re an epic poem from Greece The breakdown I’ll tell you what I’ve found We’ll both go underground And not make a ******* sound at all We’ll be covert lovers Forever purring blue sound bites into each other’s lugholes. Maybe the ambiguity of what I say Compliments how perplexed you behave Always a puzzle for me to crack I’ve never worked this hard for a go But this lust is something more I’d do anything to get you on your back Hold you down but in a way that’s caring You are a strong, beautiful, independent woman Baby I really try to not be so overbearing But without a little pressure how do you see yourself coming? The breakdown I’ll tell you what I’ve found We’ll both go underground And not make a ******* sound at all We’ll be covert lovers Forever purring blue sound bites into each other’s lugholes Undercover Just press the many buttons i have on my controls We’ll be covert lovers.

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Oct 20, 2025

Oct 20, 2025 at 11:43 AM UTC

BardofBlyth

Covert Lovers

I should make my way down to Bristol To give you a good old fistful I’d play you like a bass guitar You know I’d follow the beat As your knees get weak Sneak my way into your memoir Scribbled my actions like I was Jason and the Argonauts Maybe you’re the elusive Golden Fleece Forever hoping I’m not just an afterthought ‘Cause to me you’re an epic poem from Greece The breakdown I’ll tell you what I’ve found We’ll both go underground And not make a ******* sound at all We’ll be covert lovers Forever purring blue sound bites into each other’s lugholes. Maybe the ambiguity of what I say Compliments how perplexed you behave Always a puzzle for me to crack I’ve never worked this hard for a go But this lust is something more I’d do anything to get you on your back Hold you down but in a way that’s caring You are a strong, beautiful, independent woman Baby I really try to not be so overbearing But without a little pressure how do you see yourself coming? The breakdown I’ll tell you what I’ve found We’ll both go underground And not make a ******* sound at all We’ll be covert lovers Forever purring blue sound bites into each other’s lugholes Undercover Just press the many buttons i have on my controls We’ll be covert lovers.

33

All the way past Westminster the Thames breathes rain & clouds & the grim reaper beckons in the iron vein moonlight & I, I, an I is an Eye open wide a thousand times & the grim reaper beckoning Basho & the Dalai lama might help me find the restless gambler, cards in hand or escape the ships that never sail past the horizon, tribunals & looking out now from Cabot tower now past Bristol & beyond a homeless man sits waiting paper cup & styrofoam & Clocks do not tell the time they are merely told it yet in their vanity proclaim that they alone are it's keepers & our only friend & Nemesis

0

Aug 18, 2015

Aug 18, 2015 at 2:49 PM UTC

dreams-of-sepia

All the way past Westminster

All the way past Westminster the Thames breathes rain & clouds & the grim reaper beckons in the iron vein moonlight & I, I, an I is an Eye open wide a thousand times & the grim reaper beckoning Basho & the Dalai lama might help me find the restless gambler, cards in hand or escape the ships that never sail past the horizon, tribunals & looking out now from Cabot tower now past Bristol & beyond a homeless man sits waiting paper cup & styrofoam & Clocks do not tell the time they are merely told it yet in their vanity proclaim that they alone are it's keepers & our only friend & Nemesis

25

No tram just bus & train red dull of suburb & covert roses advertising nothing nothing could absolve this absence of thunder nor burn the heartstrings of a solitary clown whose make-up running down his face would have him rush into the storm

0

May 30, 2015

May 30, 2015 at 9:06 AM UTC

dreams-of-sepia

Bristol in the rain

No tram just bus & train red dull of suburb & covert roses advertising nothing nothing could absolve this absence of thunder nor burn the heartstrings of a solitary clown whose make-up running down his face would have him rush into the storm

12