"anticipate" poems
Hope surges upward from your core and to the heart. It warms your blood as your heart crushes into itself twice every second and unbelievably, your mind starts to think of a million and one possibilities. Your hand tingles and finally, after what seemed like eons, you think you are feeling hope again. You start suppressing it out of reflex- an unconscious, uncontrollable action. You push it down, right back to the void it came from but its too late and your lips are curving upwards into a gentle smile. You anticipate euphoria -almost can feel it at the top of your fingertips and you finally let yourself believe and hope.
It comes crashing down without warning. For a second, you still smile because your mind could not process the disappointment yet. Then - hurt, sadness, shock - flits through your mind. You still hold on to your hope like a child who refuses to let go of candy. Your smile wavers. But just like grabbing onto handfuls of sand, hope will fall out through your tightly clasped fingers. You realised that your hold on hope is no longer and instead, it is replaced by cold, unforgiving reality.
Like an icy slap to your face, like an unexpected kick to the stomach, like a bite from a dog you have always love- that is how disappointment feels like.
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 10:53 AM UTC
He swells swollen with pleasures loathing
her walls anticipate hard measures imploding
the crash of his body
sending waves of pleasure
into her current
his throws of passion
deepen her depths
to depths unmeasured
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 6:24 PM UTC
Umm, the presence and scent of a man
Magnetic attraction where his feet stands
His natural body charismatic aroma
Element of charms, seeping to awaken a woman out a sensual coma
Is it his eyes, the soul behind his life’s mysteries
Flirtation in his smile, tells me he has an undercover ****** history
It is his nose that smells out my charms
An enticing deep baritone voice, his spoken words, which turns me on
Is it the erratic heartbeat he has for a woman, his passionate relent
Stealing my breath, as he tenderly seals my lips in an impassioned moment of content
The strength in his biceps
His triceps
Strong, yet such comforting arms
An epitome of steel, circled around a woman in winter life’s storms
In the cold of night, his body providing your heated warmth
His chest, a hard pillow to tell your doubts, your uncertainties, your fears
Pulling you closer onto it, his reassuring words eradicating your tears
His intellectual mind to think as a man
A stimulating, slam bam and thank you ma’am, or your personal grand slam
His weakening love, taking your body beyond the stars
Woman from Venus, my handsome Man for Mars
His groin, and his family jewels from which it springs forth
Erected compass of his wand now pointing North
A woman’s reservation to tease, please, stroke, or allow it to choke
His loud murmurs shadowing your moans, echoing in the wind
**** I love the presence of men, and his undulated carnal sins
From the first taste of honey dipped Butter *** me
As his giving oral fixation is traveling free
Freeing the elixir of juices that deems to flee
His hairy legs as he stands to lift my weight
In the shower, no wait, as I anticipate
Hooking my twerking bait
His physique in general…Oh, God thank you
Without the scent of a man, we women would not know what to do
Your presence to a woman is our earthly food
Our je ne sais quoi for our every ****** mood
Rather you are standing, lying still, or upside down
The blissful 69 number conquered as we’re fooling around
My Dream Weaver
My distance heartbeat receiver
His dripping sweat
Droplets to my skin have been met
The presence and scent of a man holds me throughout the night as our eyes finally rest
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 10:00 AM UTC
I'll be eaten alive one day:
one day, i see it in my mind
so close to closure along an empty street
late at night
(owls just retired and birds
not yet up),
orbs of light tethered to tall electric poles
cast dappled circles on cracked pavement;
illumination and safety
(for that two metre radius).
Stepping between them
like a girl child on stones
across a garden,
I anticipate each missed step
as sinking into sand or frightful waves.
Singing drunk back-alley lullabies
i'll soothe the skelebabies in their sleep,
their poor crusted noses snuffled against
a cold shift of air
(their private torment plastered over billboards
with corporate logos and dim colours,
suggesting the city's lights have gone out and
the local government is in frantics.
That is, after all, what you'd focus on)
Girl child games were so tipsy and magic
(and so close to real coldness);
between two orbs of light i'll slip
through the cracks
in the pavement.
THE END.
(eat me alive,
eat me alive,
eaten alive by the
wolf at the door)
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC
Smashing the ice with a sledge hammer is exhausting
Pounding, sweating, blisters pulsating
Slowly chipping away at the vastness of frozen emotions
Yet, the ice is formidable from months of winter
Forced to recalculate, to innovate, to anticipate
Salt has the ability to melt ice into tears of joy
Unless the salt solvates in open wounds
Progress freezes until nature's spring decides
The sun is enlightened enough to slowly
Allow thawing in his Mother's time
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
Doom train hurtling along
Through the fog in my mind
Towing freight, rectangular and oblong
Dim headlights, you're travelling blind
Five carriages long, excluding engine and caboose
Metal against metal, spitting sparks on steel
Undetermined path, rails will choose
Chugging along on dirt covered wheels
In the cabin, I see the light
Emanating from your furnace
Swallowing up coals in your gaping bite
Tongues of flames licking the surface
Fire breathing, spewing thick black smoke
Almost unseen, against the dark of night
A long plumy arm as if extending to choke
And plug the remaining sources of light
Meandering precariously on tracks that weave
Over uncharted, unfathomable terrain
Your store, so reliably you heave
Worming your way through my brain
What's in that cargo of yours?
What lies within those boxcars?
What drives you to diligently run your course?
What fuels you to travel near and far?
Loads of self pity, self loathing and self reproach
Snaking your way to an unknown destination
Screeching brakes as if a stop you approach
Herald the train of dubious intentions
Light is upon you, dark will dissipate
Your plumes starting to lessen from your stack
The dawn breaking horizon you didn't anticipate
To see another charging towards you on this very same track...
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 4:16 AM UTC
Tired eyes awaken and be at the ready...
For today has come with all of yesterday's debris.
Tired eyes you try but can't successfully conceal.
What the beating heart is dying to reveal.
Tired eyes glaze like you can't take anymore.
Filled to the brim; these sullen windows to my core.
Tired eyes give tears like you do effortlessly.
You seem so lifeless save for the drops you carry.
Tired eyes you say so much but yet the words are unspoken.
I know you quietly wish for a miracle to happen.
Tired eyes you reach but your arms are broken.
I know you scream out silently; all that's been forgotten.
Tired eyes why are you wide open but still you do not see...
See the sun rising, revealing all your wants splendidly.
Tired eyes I know you are but only waiting.
For the picturesque view of your heart's secret painting.
Tired eyes it's time and it's the end of a work day.
Don't anticipate tomorrow's load; just rest as I lay.
Tired eyes I am aware of sweet solace that you truly seek.
Tired eyes rest now so that tomorrow you might speak...
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
(the gate is a crowded mess, please no special requests, be thankful you got a seat, this flight is sold out and I’m beat.
I get up and stand on my chair and say)
*I give thanks for:
the uncommon greatness of common sense
for the steady approach of that wondrous day when
kindness is neither random or unexpected,
but the rule, not the exception
for our opinions and deeds, that are our own,
derived without coercion, born from our thoughts and observations and that
we are equal to both
owning them and to
changing them
that we live in a time that friendships can grow just through the quick exchange of words leaping bounds
for eyes that see deep deeper than skin,
ears that hear
what those ashamed wish you didn’t, hands that grasp regardless of distance,
the taste of kisses that come easy sweet
for the day when I at last knew,
the pleasure of giving
so far exceeded receiving,
that giving and receiving became
synonymous
that I learned that the best skill to possess is
to anticipate
the needs of others
that my lucky position in this world permits me
to act on the things for
which I am thankful*
that someday I will need no longer inquire,
are you my poem,
for the answer will be self-evident to us both
Nov 22, 2017
Nov 22, 2017 at 12:51 PM UTC
Are we fated to dance to the same tune alone in our separate universes?
Is it true that we must silently keep to our preordained curses?
Are we destined to swoon at the beauty of the moon at differing time slots?
Why were we given invisible ink to connect our lives' dots?
Must it be that our lives revolve around the whims of the sun?
Isn't it ludicrous that we won't see the intricate webs we've spun?
Was it the plan that we exist only in our minds and hearts?
Why do we have to tolerate starting when the other's ending and end at the other's starts?
Has it been written that we can only afford to infinitely chase each others heartbeats?
Was it foretold that we're trapped in a singular notion that never really fits?
Is the game set as such that we can never emerge as winners?
How is it that the ocean was made out of our tears that flowed from rivers?
Why is it that with our entirety we believe but do not know?
What's the reason for the path made clear but we're too afraid to go?
What does it entail to possess the very least but yet you covet it the most?
How do you pride yourself in something but not allowed to boast?
Why do we frantically scramble to piece together jagged shards?
Can't we just play this blasted deck of lousy cards?
Is it destiny or cruelty to have found then lost?
Why does it seem absurd that we have all its takes but can't afford the cost?
Is it the thoughts that **** or the emotions that debilitate?
Is it the challenges we take on or the curveballs we anticipate?
Why bother when sheer folly is all it seems to be?
Why tarry when the heart is free and the mind is ready?
Is it ridiculous to have found myself still very bothered?
Is it wrong to question fate that had always bound us tethered?
Why is the good always bad and the bad becomes worse?
Is it true that the harder we fight, the deeper we immerse?
Has life turned to be but sad little rhetorics?
Are we but performers on stages coerced into theatrics?
Is it time for me to surface this one-man submarine?
Will it be so that if I do, my journey would then begin...?
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 8:38 PM UTC
Benji...this is your conscience speaking...
"You'll never be good enough for her,
Who are you kidding?
You aren't attractive enough,
To obtain her love.
What are you thinking boy...?
Why are you trying to destroy
everything left inside yourself.
Do you want to be addicted to this drug?
Better stop praying to the sky above...
Get back up Benji, move a little faster
or this storm is going to catch up with ya.
I know you don't give a f**k,
But you better start
Or you'll end up back in that slump
and this time...I'm not sure you'll get back up
And pull yourself back out of that dump."
Resurrect everything inside of my soul
Reignite that light, that once shined
Bring me back
So I can fight, let me find
That parts of me that I lost
in the dark
Give me the spark
to restore life to my heart
Just can't seem to get a grip
People all around me
Are gritting their teeth
Waiting for my next slip
Trying to anticipate my next trip
That just ain't cool...
Why don't you worry about yourself?
I don't need your help.
I've dealt with everything else on my own
People catch me in public
speaking to myself
I'm just talking to the inner me
trying to work out my inner being
Haven't you ever been confused?
Feeling self-accused, hurt and bruised.
Resurrect everything inside of my soul
Reignite that light, that once shined
Bring me back
So I can fight, let me find
That parts of me that I lost
in the dark
Give me the spark
to restore life to my heart
"Benji look at you now...
You crashed yourself into the ground
You tried to rebound
Back from the darkness of life
You just drowned in the blackness inside
You are losing parts of yourself
Every time you're inflicted with pain
Your soul melts
You die a little more inside
You're trying to ride this tide
But you keep running out of time
So you better decide
If you're willing to climb
This jagged cliff edge
One last time."
Resurrect everything inside of my soul
Reignite that light, that once shined
Bring me back
So I can fight, let me find
That parts of me that I lost
in the dark
Give me the spark
to restore life to my heart
©2018 Written By Benji James
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 11:36 PM UTC
i hope you get into medical school
so all i have to do is eat an apple everyday
i hope you always have money to buy extra bread-sticks
but never the self control stop eating them
i hope your 15 seconds of fame falls on daylight savings
i hope you never avoid movie or tv spoilers
i hope your children are loved and cared for
but have their hearts broken by mine
i hope you always anticipate a surprise birthday party
i hope you always wake well rested
3 hours late for work
i hope you dance in the metaphoric rain
and catch metaphoric pneumonia
i hope your next thanksgiving is spent in an airport
i hope you are mildly inconvenienced every morning
i hope all your book pages stick together
i hope that you always will question if you left your oven on
i hope your future roommates always use all the hot water
i hope you always find the words to say
but never the right time to say them
i hope you never figure out how to pick a ripe avocado
i hope all your dinners are directly impacted
by the fickle nature of a toaster oven
i hope your curiosity gets the better of you
and you find out what cat food tastes like
i hope your favorite band breaks up
and you miss their kick *** reunion tour
i hope you watch an unhealthy amount of daytime tv
i hope you outlive me on the off chance that your paper boy will miraculously skip your house on the day my obituary is printed
because nothing would make my ghost happier to know
that you were forced to find out after literally everyone else that
i passed away in my sleep surrounded by people who loved me
while you sat in your house old grey never thinking of me until you
read some 50 words in a newspaper and even if its for a second i want you to wonder what kind of life i had because you will have had no part in it.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 11:25 AM UTC
Reality is not what I see
I know this.
Yet, I believe what comes before me
What my eyes scan.
I know it is merely my mind
Playing tricks
It wants to fool me
And laugh while I struggle through the images.
I know this.
Yet, I do nothing to change it.
My insanity is my escape
It is my way out of reality
Out of my repetitive excuse of life
And I feel sane in the world of the insane
I know my world is a paradox
Yet, I never want to leave it.
I anticipate that without me
It will begin to die away.
My world of insanity
Of my escape.
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
Oh sleepless night
What a trick on me you play!
For the reason I cannot sleep
Is because I anticipate the day
We build our day up
To have it elapse at night
But how too often a time I experience
A continuance through the night
Oh how unfair to me you see
For nighttime is a break much overlooked
Because I walk through the day quite sleepily
Which is difficult in a day so overbooked
Sleeping figures
Rejuvenating minds
Your mind is cultivating in peace
While my face is forming lines
Oh how I wish I didn’t get so worked up
I expected this to happen
Which ironically is the reason
My tiredness has been dampened
I lay in bed, ready
Ready to try this out
A pleasant sleep is all I wanted
Without completely passing out
How I get so jealous when
You lay there and drift to rest
While I’m dealing with two polar issues--
Either abruptly collapse into sleep or else from it slowly digress
Oh sleepless night, you tease me so
You fool with me and upset me so
For when thinking of tomorrow I surely know
I’m not going to be as lively as my potential.
It’s like I’m a hobo on Fifth Ave
Looking at the rich not realizing what they have
I get excited over spare change
While you collect your pay checks again and again
So let’s face it, tomorrow I’ll be miserable
And I’ll look forward to when the clock strikes night
But then the hours I have will become considerable
So I’ll lay there restlessly and drift away just before the light.
So I’ll get a taste of what sleeps like
But I’ll never get to experience it right.
Oh you cruel, mean sleepless night!
Where dwells your brother so known as the “Goodnight”?
Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 4:53 PM UTC
I have not grown accustomed
to the sound of your messages.
Their presence did little to assure,
nor did their absence cause unsettling.
Today, however,
I must admit
that I have waited for that bell.
My heart salivated
at the sound of passing bicycles,
hoping finally it was you
remembering the love
you have left waiting.
I wonder:
How could you have conditioned me
to anticipate something
that has never been constant anyway?
for j.e.
013115
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
When life gives you lemons,
Breathe
Because there is only so much you can get out of lemonade.
Take your time measuring
The sugar
To balance out
The sour taste that
Lingers
Until after.
And if you make a mistake,
If it seams the sour still screams,
Remember that it
Exists
For you to
Anticipate
Every next sweet sip.
There will be unwanted pulp.
Don't drain it out.
And there will be spills,
So many spills
Until all sweet
And all sour have run out.
But wait.
Because life always has more lemons
To throw right your way.
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 8:16 AM UTC
I’m not lucky, I’m blessed.
I don’t know about you.
Don’t call me lucky,
call me blessed. There’s
a difference between the two.
Luck comes around from
time to time.
Blessings are there every day.
They’re staring you right
in the face.
Luck is something people
seek to find.
Blessings automatically
come your way.
Luck is something that
happens by chance.
Blessings are God’s works.
They’re a part of his plan.
Blessings are things that you
carry with you. They’re there
every single day.
Lucky is something that comes
along, but then it goes away.
Blessings are things that
are permanent.
Luck is something that
is temporary.
Blessings are things which
are heaven sent.
Luck you can’t count
on. Luck you can’t depend on.
Unlike blessings, which you
know they will always be
there. You never need worry.
Luck is something you anticipate,
something which you wait for it
to come around.
Blessings are things that are
automatically there. Every day
of your life they can be found.
Luck is basically good fortune
that happens from time to time.
Blessings are things you are
faced with every day. You
carry them with you for
a lifetime.
Luck is something you consider
to be good that happens
unexpectedly. It may come
around at a time of need.
But what you consider to be
good luck, events can happen
to cause you to see it is just
opposite. It may turn out to
be that what you find to be
good luck, isn’t always what
it seems.
Blessings are that which is
sent from God. They are not
disguised.
Blessings are brought to the
light where you clearly seem them.
They do not hide.
Blessings that are sent from
God, they do not lie.
Blessings are something you
can believe, something you
can have confidence in.
You carry them with you
from the moment your life
starts, up until your life on
earth comes to an end.
You shall carry them with you
even after death, should you
make it to heaven.
I’m not lucky, I’m blessed.
There’s as difference between
the two.
I don’t consider myself lucky.
I consider myself blessed.
I can only speak for myself.
I can’t speak for you.
I’m not lucky, I’m blessed.
That’s all I have to say.
Don’t call me lucky, call
me blessed. God is the way.
It’s not luck but God, who
wakes me every day.
It isn’t luck but God, who
gives me eyes to see the way.
It isn’t luck but God, who
gives me a voice and mouth
so that I may talk.
It isn’t luck but God, who
gave me legs and feet so that
I may walk.
It isn’t luck but God, who
gave me hands so that I
may touch.
It isn’t luck but God,
who does so much.
It isn’t luck but God, who
gives me everything I need.
It isn’t luck, it’s God.
I say it unashamed.
I say it proudly.
It isn’t luck, it’s God,
who gave me a brain for
thinking.
It wasn’t luck, it was God,
who gave me a heart which
keeps me breathing, keeps
me living.
I’m not lucky, I’m blessed,
in so many ways.
Don’t call me lucky,
call me blessed.
That’s all I have to say.
I’ll leave you with that
thought and I’ll go about
my way.
Aug 1, 2020
Aug 1, 2020 at 1:10 AM UTC
Partly darkened and part in light
A time when the stars and sun shared the sky
Bear witness to two behemoths wielding might
Impending clash foreseen to go awry
Two trains of thoughts charging from opposite ends
Each bearing their own solid ideals
Their flags that flew with conflicting brands
Convictions they carry on beaten, weary wheels
Almost an eternity, the time is soon
Seconds lasted before they finally would meet
Feeling of dread like the cloud covered moon
With war cries of whistles, they would greet
No possible way that they could miss
War waged in steeled wills and forged metals
Anticipate the moment, their couplings would kiss
Unleashing a barrage of predestined reprisals
Sheer destruction as they ate into each other
All in tow haphazardly derailed
A clash made of brute strength and power
A result of when decisiveness had failed
All was motionless save for the light of day
The two lay dead; spent currencies in coal
Fire and smoke had emerged from the fray
Signifying that the two have met their goal
Their cargo now freed, engaging in petty skirmish
Lunging and wrestling as they fought for dominance
Determination to overwhelm; never to languish
Jousting fists fueled by pent-up vengeance
Almost at end this long drawn battle
Much like a storm to be patiently ridden out
When the last of the debris should settle
Then would be lifted the dusty veil of doubt
The sun has now risen revealing the aftermath
Shedding light on the devastation incurred
Dark thoughts possess the most potent of wraths
But nothing could beat the muscle of the written word
Looking back I've realised the harm I've caused
Found great solace in the dark words I've governed
Life still hurls; it can never be paused
Just dust yourself off for you're better off enlightened
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 5:14 AM UTC
To even commence to define how profoundly I fell in love with you, I would need the capacity of a thousand-page manuscript written in the most romantic idiom.
Each, and every retention of us is stowed into the back of my conscious, and concealed deep into my heart.
Every beautiful memory plays through my head like soft music.
I would say my heart is immovable. There are days that I try to sojourn the thoughts of you, but its intolerable for me to do so.
I am so engulfed in your perfection. I do not think there has been a single day that you have escaped my thoughts.
I can feel your presence with me if I ponder our memories deeply enough. Your presence weighs heavily in my heart. It is as if part of your soul occupies its crevasses, and fills my cracks.
Your eyes are echoes of a hundred distant galaxies no man has ever revealed. Vast windows that reflect the constellations.
My heart is certain the universe resides in them.
As I begin to study your face, I feel like nothing but love can exist.
Your porcelain perfection never ceases to weaken me.
You weaken me with love, trust, and desire. Like the finest specimen created by the hands of Gods.
As I anticipate the connotation of love, the implication is “you”.
Even if the fire for what you feel for me dies, I do not reason the passion I have for you will ever dim.
I do not begin to recollect if I had ever felt this susceptible.
I let this passion be valued like the rarest stone.
I would give up the entire world if it meant I could have you in my life endlessly.
Your happiness is of grave importance to me, when I study your smile, I can overlook the darkness of this decaying reality.
Every heartbeat of time my mouth declares three unpretentious words.
“I love you”.
I say it like an invocation.
Not one moment did my tongue express profanity against these golden words of poetry.
I love you. “ I Love You” . And solitarily just you.
I wallow in my own sorrows at the thought of the culmination, when we shall one day part at death's hand.
For I deeply distinguish that you love me equally, and this brings vast pleasure to my temperament.
I sense security in your encirclement, your heart is my home.
My heart qualms of my fragile weakness that I consume when I dream of you.
You make me susceptible to the sickness of love.
If love was a poem, you would be the title.
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 10:30 PM UTC
The sun awaits
just beyond the horizon.
Time gets scarcer
as it bathes us
in its glow.
And our bodies can only
afford to
crumble to dust.
All that we know,
what we knew,
will only be cast...
Imprisoned.
Within the tight confines
of expiring memory.
We must pave a way
to a secret place.
A route to safety...
One that we could share.
Somewhere only we know.
I'll go to this place
where no one can.
I'll wait and anticipate
your arrival at this place...
A place only we know.
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 1:52 PM UTC
There are many reasons
to not get out of bed.
Keep reading on
and remember what’s been said.
Now it could be a hangover
from a party last night.
Or recovery from pain
inflicted during a fight.
It could be a nationwide holiday,
or a self-made holiday.
Or you could be anti-social
and want everyone to go away.
Now you could be knocked out
from the fresh fumes of paint,
or maybe unbearable weather
has caused you to faint.
It could be a habit,
something done all the time,
or you could be recovering
from doing time for crime.
The bed’s too comfortable.
The alarm didn’t go off.
Graduation was yesterday.
Or you want the day to get lost.
You anticipate a day
that’s bad all the way.
You’re rebelling against your parents
and you don’t care about your grades.
Even if staying in bed
isn’t your usual form,
you could just simply want
a break from the norm.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
When I am an old man I want to be a gentleman,
with perfect manners, sound and articulate speech,
and refined opinions founded on solid, balanced judgment.
To be revered would be well, but I'll settle for respected;
people are more apt to overlook your faults,
and keep their expectations of you more reasonable.
I would possess at least half the strength of my youth,
both in body and in mind,
and twice the faith, never staggering at the promise.
I would be as steadfast in my convictions as I was at twenty,
but with a lifetime of wisdom to back up the zeal;
I would be a voice of both faith and reason.
I would be mindful of the finish line ahead of me,
and would be certain to possess such a rapport with my Maker
as to anticipate, and not dread, what lay beyond.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 8:09 PM UTC
2 weeks it's been
Immersed in this world of open love
Such a short time to spend
But my heart feels so liberated
No longer trapped by the confines of one
A sole opportunity to share, give and express my love
Now I can let my feelings come undone
Within the safety and boundaries of mutual respect
My lovers, almost three
Each offer a unique chance
To share this love and feel free
This love is a beautiful thing
I did not anticipate this formation
I did not set out a number of partners to seek
I entered this with no expectations
And it happened to grow this way on its own
I love each person uniquely
No mutual exclusion, no impact
Each love forms and runs deeply
Individually, yet always connected through love
Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 10:19 PM UTC
part, the first; serve
a good conversation is like a good game of tennis,
(with no winner) the ball drunkenly goes from side to side.
coffee shop, asking to pass the sugar,
the serve is delicate and precise, making it is key.
acceptance with the splenda is passed along with ‘sure’,
the receiver must lose their name, anticipate the arrival
following up with such a statement, a vocational inquiry
title lost, the ball has been struck and thrown as response.
part, the second; dance
the game has truly begun;
the beginning is not the serve,
but the response to.
back and forth in endless banter,
meaningless question,
to meaningless answer.
secretly, both don’t want the volley to end;
not often does the
passing sugar trick work.
part, the third; point
a fatal slip- achilles heel:
remembrance. no appointment is worth
losing a point, even
one for a prostate check (despite common opinion)
good thing then; the score
does not go to a single point, it requires
four or so completions,
though by four they will not count score
(and will drop the rackets).
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 9:59 PM UTC
I touched your hand and never knew
I would suddenly fall in love with you
I never realized in a single moment
My dream would finally come true
I did not anticipate the serenity
Which falling in love would bring
Yet when I embrace you in my arms
I felt the joy that makes one sing
Every moment when you are next to me
My heart feels it has found heaven
I never thought I would feel this way
As many amazing feelings would begin
I never knew after kissing your lips
My heart would come to know such pain
I never thought I would be sad and happy
When my heart would speak your name
When I find myself waiting for you
So anxious are the times embracing me
But all is made to become much better
By the joy in your smile I always see
I never imagined when I embraced you
My heart would be quickly swept away
Yet I found that magic moment to happen
As I received your gift of love today.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 6:29 PM UTC