"caugh" poems
There are so many
So insecure
Not sure who to love
Still searching for the cure
But me-
I'm just lucky
I've caught your heart
As you've caugh my own
I have this fear-
That I love you too much
That you'll be taken away
Leaving my heart in a rush
But I know-
That you're here to stay
The feelings you show-
Won't push you away
Jan 14, 2012
Jan 14, 2012 at 12:23 AM UTC
She,
caugh ***** but at rest, posing fully attentive,
in her favored chair, a Mies van der Rohe of a
leathery chocolate color, which admittedly is most
accepting of the human frame most welcomingly
but She, gazes relaxedly & rigid, unflinching fixed,
upon on of our Friday flower self-giftations,
an array of eye filling pink and white peonies,
that have mesmerized, entranced and made
her rigidly relaxed, peaceful whimsy on her face
the seasons of life are short, the season of peonies,
is an abbreviation in human terms, perhaps a dot,
a single month a year, in truth overshadowed by
their competition, overly popularized cherry blossoms,
but these 5 P’s, are in her brief of, most pleasuring
pink peony prized possession, remarked upon
with always trace sadness throughout a diminished,
perma~lacking, imbalanced, rest-of-the year, with
sighs emanating from where her essence resides
minutes pass, I too, pass by, dithering to/fro other rooms,
but She, transfixed, breathing quietly, she neither notices,
or acknowledges my temporal interruptions in her moment
of possession by the robust busting opening of the flowers,
an eclectic, electric charging of amentia, for she is
enwrapped and entranced
in an emotional place only that She,
this woman,
shares with no one else, a Universe tiny but all encompassing,
her eyes winnowed and windowed upon the extravagance of
the beauty that comes so briefly…
May 6, 2024
May 6, 2024 at 12:06 PM UTC
I'm liking empty spaces on my bed room wall
I want to see the dark shine bright
I feel like its colder now than last year's fall
I don't get why I get the urge to fight
This cough's been hanging round longer than a rebel cause
I don't see the point
Take in the mantra where i do what I want
So I caugh some more as I spark one more joint
Can you tell
It's in dialects
And I yell in two voices creating
Dichotomy
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 3:44 AM UTC
What is this three versed **** we call a love letter. Father, son, Holy Spirit. I can't not write about the stuff that saved my life. Catholics give me headaches. Religious people, taste worse than prethrown up caugh drops. Stand, kneel, stand, kneel. Your rosery beads didn't save you, and that crucifix around your neck...you don't even know what He did. You snorted & said it looked good with my fly new outfit. You only talk to me at night, when the world & the girls have subsided.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 12:36 AM UTC