"cav" poems
Don't be
A mole.
I hate moles.
They burrow
And
Scavenge
And
Live in the
Dark.
Thats just
What you did
To my heart.
You burrowed
Deep,
Down to the center.
You set up camp.
And I didn't know
You were a mole.
I thought maybe you were
A
Straw,
To ****
Bad things
Out.
So I kept you warm
And waited calmly for the
Bad stuff to
Dissapear.
But I realized
That
You were a
Magnifying glass,
To emphasise
My flaws
And you were
A
Seam-ripper
To
Pull the patches
From where
I had already healed,
To make the scabs
Bleed
Again.
And I thought you were
A
Jigsaw
And you were broken
So I could fix you
And put you
Together.
Like a
Vase,
Easily
B
r
o
k
e
n.
And
Then
You left me.
Like a
Tooth
Full of
Cav it ies.
That
Space
Next
To
My heart
No longer full.
And you
Didn't depend on me,
No longer a tapeworm.
I miss you.
Like
You
Were
Mine.
But you were
Never
Mine.
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 9:06 PM UTC
Ro-
mance is in the air – or
so they say at this time of year in
the heart of the Thousand Islands.
No-
thing quite welcomes summer
like the morning smell of seaweed fresh-
ly caught on some vacationer’s
pro-
pellers - excess water
draining from the boat’s engine, creat-
ing sporadic puddles up the
street.
I see no romance in
Alex Bay – too many tourists; too
old, too young – No young lovers. Not
E-
nough privacy in the
souvenir shops or bustling streets for
young lovers to embrace and watch
the
sun set or rise off the
Dock of the Bay. Mother duck leading
her ducklings towards the bread crumbs the
old-
er generation has
cast aside for them in the fishy
water. Kids just don’t know what ro-
mance
is anymore. Perhaps
because Spring is ending and not be-
ginning. I must find the romance
in
these islands. There was a
story passed down through the years of Boldt
and his lady and Hart Island.
He
re-named it Heart Island
and with his millions he made it just
that. A castle he built her, a
Play-
house for the kids. Gardens
and walkways, a Yacht House, a Tower.
All this he built for his love.
Can
you imagine, waking
up every morning to the smell, the
sounds of an island called yours? In
the
midst of the St. Lawrence,
the freshness, the cool, the sun beating
down on your grass, your estate. How
ro-
mantic an idea.
Of the one-thousand, seven-hundred
and ninety-three islands, this one
be-
longs to you and your love.
To travel by Ferry each day to
the Bay, to dine every night at
Cav-
allario’s Seafood
and Steak. Oh the wonders of Alex
Bay – I found romance after all.
Jan 31, 2011
Jan 31, 2011 at 4:19 PM UTC
Ke nna Lesedi, just a rich, Sharp minded and skinny guy
Still be fiending for change, hardly smoking cheap gwaai
I need bricks in my pants so I buy me a house to freely trap
Working on building success, got my clout by a freestyle rap
I swear I'd buy a blue pill from the matrix
I put all my concentration on the basics
Only gym with my nxondo until e bohale
No drugs in my system,ke ty ka bohlale
I hope you get high off of reading this
I pray that you seek what meaning is
Til your eyes are bothloko in order to harvest the food
Til no lies are accepted and all of us live in the truth
Geekin and tripping I'm straight from the plug
He blessed the friend with some dank and a notepad
I captured and flexed with all of thoughts
I'm thanking the Lord for my swank and my Kodak [mind]
[cav the flow and word combo][Creative Work]
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC
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Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 12:50 AM UTC
Loud disrespectful welp, bone faced Cav
Subdued in soundless sleep, unaware
Here lurks our end, O death stalks us dear Nav
Mine ever foolish sword, dull yet sharp
A prize awaits the dead, not for us
One Flesh, One end, O death hates us dear
Nav
Apr 25, 2021
Apr 25, 2021 at 2:56 AM UTC