#mb
i'm sorry i'm too chicken ****
to confess to you
i'm sorry my anxious ***
can't tell you the truth
there are so many ******* things i cant do
so i'm sorry i'm too chicken ****
to confess to you
so for now i'll just flirt and blush
like a schoolgirl with a lame ******* crush
i'm sorry if i'm too much
and i'll continue to hide
how i actually feel,
too many parts of me
that i must conceal
none of this even feels real
and no matter how much
i hide the truth
i'm sorry i'm too chicken ****
to confess to you
May 22, 2025
May 22, 2025 at 12:00 AM UTC
If ya didn't catch Poe (M.A.)
try Poe (M.B.) because
this is not po' Poe's poetry. It's just ANu poet trying not to be Poe but me.
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 3:45 AM UTC
I was on a bomb site
off Meadow Row
with Helen
searching for small stones
for my catapult
she had her doll
Battered Betty
in one hand
and was looking at the ground
through her thick lens glasses
how small do
they have to be?
she said
about this size
I said
showing her
with my thumb and finger
we searched amongst the bricks
and rubble and bits
of wood and weeds
is this small enough?
she said
picking up a stone
and putting it
in the palm
of her small hand
I went to her
and gazed at it
and picked it up
and said
yes that's about right
and put it in a small pouch
made from an old handkerchief
tied together
and tied to the belt
around my blue jeans
how many stones
do you need?
she said
because Betty
is getting hungry
and I will have to
feed her soon
with the bottle
in my dress pocket
o about a handful
I said
just a few more
ok
she said
and we looked on
Betty hanging
from Helen's hand
by her tiny hand
just then a copper
walked across the bomb site
from the New Kent Road
trudging at his own pace
towards us
Helen saw him first
and stood up
and clutched Betty
close towards her chest
her eyes large
and scared looking
I stood up and put
my hands in the pockets
of my blue jeans
you ought not to be
on bomb sites
he said
they're dangerous places
Helen opened her mouth
to speak
but nothing came
but air
we're collecting stones
for my catapult
I said
he stood upright
with his hands on his hips
staring at us both
I don't care
if you're collecting gems
for Her Majesty the Queen
I want you off now
and to go home
he said
his voice firm and baritone
only I need ammunition
I said
and this is the best
place for them
off and go home
he said peering at me
his eyes dark and enlarging
Helen was nigh
wetting herself
so I shrugged and said
ok but we'll be back
once you've gone
Helen stared at me
as if I'd passed wind
GO NOW
he bellowed
pigeons flew up and off
from the bomb site
at the sound
we walked off
the bomb site together
she looking ahead
eyes tearful
I gazing back
like I'd seen this cowboy do
in that Western film
before a gunfight
I'd seen with my old man
the previous night.
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 2:04 AM UTC
i think i dream about you, sometimes i don't remember
when i wake i can feel your presence,
like you crept into my bedroom
when i was still asleep
dug your hands into my chest
to see if i still breathe
when you felt a beating
you didn't wait around
to hear it still unsteady and skipping
so i wonder - does your smile do that to another heart now?
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 1:28 PM UTC