"arghh" poems
I fell asleep
and trusted my soul to keep
but then I entered a lush garden
which I entered without a pardon
over at the far end
yes just around the bend
was a women standing
on a marble landing
her back was turned to me
and I could see
snakes in her hair
yet her skin was quite fair
and she had quite a nice derrière
I turned to flee
but that's just not me
she had the snake hair thing
but I heard that wow could she sing
a lonely broken hearted song
about so many things that were wrong
I looked again
around that bend
in addition to the skin, voice and ---
her body had more curves then a racetrack
so adapting my best tack
I picked some red flowers
by the big ivory tower
and walked up to her and bent on one knee
presenting the flowers I said see
this is for you
because your song was sad and true
she turned and said arghh now you turn to stone
but instead I said I do not wish to spurn
but stone is not really my thing
I can show you my yo-yo on a string
or perhaps juggling maybe a little mime
I can do many wonderful things if you have the time
so she pulled out a gun
suprised I said no no thats no fun
then I looked as cute as I could
and stayed as still as wood
I don't understand she said why you don't attack me
you are a hero and I am hideous can't you see
I said nah handing her the flowers
you are quite beautiful here by your tower
I would rather take you out for coffee and cake
so I leave the rest of the story out for you to make
;)
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 9:06 PM UTC
it is so painful to write a poem
...
a poem for you
...
the scars started to open again
...
is it worth it to use this dripping blood
use this as an ink to write
...
about you?
...
every line feels like
there are thousand ants biting at my heart
...
i cannot fin-
Arghh
.
.
.
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 8:12 AM UTC
The Morning Sun ©
Stanza 1 :
The short hand of my big,round clock
Diligently whirred the hour of nine,
And the unfailing sun - faithful to her calling,
Rose again to shine.
Stanza 2 :
Arghh ! The tendrils of her luminous rays
Sprayed discomfort - exceptionally piercing,
The moment of silence aided the voices of
Chirping birds perching the leeward side of
A neighbouring roof,
Adding somewhat a lustre, to the
Unwavering heat that fortunately found a
Path through the holes of my crisscross net.
Unbidden,I refused to adore her glistening
Grace,
Wallowing in selfpride,I declined my warm
Expression of gratitude for all of her
Kindness during the rainy days.
With overwhelming disdain, I let low the
Fringes of a yellow transparent curtain.
Stanza 3 :
Nevertheless, undeterred as ever, she
Increased the dazzling filament of her
Toturing flame,
And all I ever did was gawk intermittently,
At the grandeur of her charismatic display
As she waxed and waned delightfully.
Causing tiny,glints to appear on the
Edges of swaying tassles that adorned the
See - through veils of my living room.
Arghh ! There she goes again - her
Untouchable forelocks made me scoff : they
Were as deadly as those oily,boiling,spittles
Dripping down from the cut - tops of
Long-lived vulcanoes,
Which no man ever dared tame.
Stanza 4 :
The sweeping swish of daytime into
Noonshift, shapelessly radiated those lines
Of light through the scuds of sheepish grey,
As indifferent as ever : no soul, dead or
Living has ever been fortunate to wear her a
Royal crown - oh nay !
I marvel in awe as I unwillingly did watch,
My poor, sullen eyes could droop at some
Point,
Inwardly jealous of her daily, scorchy, touch.
Jahmenmuze.
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 8:37 AM UTC