"charger" poems
Working parts and mechanisms,
charts and graphs and mannerisms,
a table, pencil, square and mitre...
eraser marks, sweat drops, -go lighter!
A thought or two and ponderance...
Decimal here and decimal there,
-micron adjustment now we're square...
Up all night until daylight dawn
and finally I've fixed the Krong!
A thought or two and ponderance...
To the factory arrive before eight
and finished, furnished, a model late...
A handheld one and something larger,
humanity saved by my charger!
A thought or two and ponderance...
10 years long after planet saved,
They'll be parades and accolades...
Statues, tributes, my name in text-books,
but no one, never, a second look!
Never to worry on life again...
..I did it,
I reset the world; begin.
And did it all with Earth's mighty spin.
Oct 3, 2016
Oct 3, 2016 at 3:31 PM UTC
Billy loved his parsnip
He'd tend it day and night
To keep it safe from prying eyes
He stashed it out of sight
But one eventful morning
He awoke to such alarm
His parsnip had gone from puny
To the size of a baby's arm
Such growth was nigh unheard of
In a vegetable or fruit
So he bore it proud before him
Grasped expertly by the root
When he showed his doting mother
She was mightily impressed
So screamed a lot then swooned a bit
While clutching at her chest
The people at the bus stop
Shared his mother's admiration
But advised him that his tuber
Needed urgent relocation
So he took it in a taxi
Wrapped up in folded gauze
To the Guinness book of records
And he pushed apart the doors
His parsnip held protruding
With a confident advance
Like a knight atop his charger
With a huge organic lance
But security had seen him
They quickly knocked him flat
A policeman saw his parsnip
And he hid it with his hat
Billy served his sentence
For unsavory displaying
He changed his name to Danny
There's no record where he's staying
The moral of this sorry tale
Is far too dull to write
So learn your ****** vegetables
And know their names on sight
**
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 7:58 PM UTC
Quiet crickets.
Quiet light of moon
Quiet cars along the road
--Go'n be home soon
Quiet AC on too late
Quiet humming charger in the outlet
Quiet bathroom 'cross the hall, water dripping from the faucet
Quiet floors while set'ling in
You're too old for all that whinin'
Quiet creatures awake before the sun
The signals when it's shinin'
Quiet indistinguishable shadow still yet so foreboding
Oh, you're just a pile of clothes that I never got to folding
Quiet drafty window singing with such vigor and such soul
Catch a chill from that night air
Might catch a runny nose
Quiet thoughts-that handsome stranger, worries, deadlines, dreams, 'n stuff
Quiet bedtime playlist streaming
Clearly you were'nt good enough
Quiet poem bursting from me my
Admonition of defeat
quiet quiet.
too much quiet-
quiet, would you let me sleep?
2:46am 8.30.18
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 2:51 AM UTC
NAY! swear no more, thou woman whom I called
Star, Empress, Wife! Were Dian's self to lean
From her white altar and with goddess lip
Swear thee as pure as her pale breast divine,
I could not deem thee purer than I know
Thou art indeed.
Once, when my triumphs rolled
Along old Rome and blood of roses washed
The battle-stains from off my chariot-wheels,
And triumph's thunders round my legions roared,
And kings in kingly ******* golden bound
Shook at my charger's foot, past the hot din
Of Victory-whose heart of golden pride in wound
Most subtly through with fire of subtlest pain-
My soul on prouder pinion rose above
The Roman shouting, to an air more clear
Than that Jove darks with hurtling thunderbolts,
Or stains with Jovian revels-that separate sphere,
Unshared of gods or man, where thy white feet
Caught their sole staining from my ruddy heart,
Blazing beneath them; where, when Rome looked up,
'Twas with the eyes close shaded with the hand,
As at some glory terrible and pure,-
For no man being pure, a terror dwells
Holy and awful in a sinless thing-
And Caesar's wife, the Empress-Matron, sat
Above a doubt-as high above a stain.
Nay! how know I what hell first belched abroad
Tall flames and slanderous vomitings of smoke,
Blown by infernal breathings, till they scaled
Thy throne of whiteness, and the very slaves
Who crouched in Roman kennels wagged the tongue
Against the wife of Caesar: 'Ha! we need not now
And opal-shaded stone wherewith to view
A stainless glory.' In that day my neck
Was bound and yoked with my twin-Caesar's yoke-
Man's master, Sorrow.
I know thee pure-
But Caesar's wife must throne herself so high
Upon the hills that touch their snowy crests
So close on Heaven that no slanderous Hell
Can dash its lava up their swelling sides.
I love thee, woman, know thee pure, but thou
No more art wife of Caesar. Get thee hence!
My heart is hardened as a lonely crag,
Grey granite lifted to a greyer sky,
And where against its solitary crown
Eternal thunders bellow.
3.7k
My hand smells of apple and
Iron in my blood begins to revolt.
A shadow puppet smirks, pulling blanket
Wrapped over the 14 year old little girl's thighs;
It's morning already, I've got to **** you,
I've got to **** you.
We found our bodies drowned at
The colorless side of the bottom of Gangga;
As if wars would soon start again
Like when we were older and you sang me
A farewell with such an emotionless voice --
The tuberoses had let you sing the sonnet alone
And since then you could not
Escape the karmic silence;
You began to replace Shiva with the ticking clock which battery's drained;
You ate the mercury, the mercury.
You began to carry your charger everywhere yet I kept
Failing to taste your tongue even for once;
For once I saw the clouds and they're blue
Like eyes of the blonde girl with plastic daisies tucked
On her hair and
Dried forget-me-nots grew on your wet heart;
The Mindanao helped me to get through
But such tight seaweed had tied my feet to you (to get me back to you, to get me back to you);
An island of fears, your homeland; mine; traditional songs and dances I refuse to learn;
City of fire was only your lies.
(I am sorry I got your name misspelled, carved on my soul.)
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 6:54 AM UTC
You’re like the sweetest heart
You’re like my miracle
You’re the only one I want
You’re like the World Series
You’re like the saints ,won
You’re like the eagles versus
You’re like frog legs in Paris
You’re like my always pads
You’re like every ticket I’ve ever had
You’re like my air bag I never want to use you
You’re like my little angel’s eyes
You are second hand smoke
You are on my way to my God
you are my music high way
And every Mexican blanket
You are a field of hay and a single strike of lightning
You are every unfinished piece
I know I’m saving for our children
I have seen them in make shifts so we can definitely make time for everyone
Keep me on your next list
You are all the self help books that I read for my own mend
You are prevention magazine
And you’re mom is all the wax I accidentally spill out of candles
I think you’re my insecure side that’s scared to love you in front of the neighbors
You’re all the days I showed up late to school for Chuck Norris jokes in detention
You’re all the lonely drives I take and really enjoy the scenery
You are Oreos and Sonic Ice
You are better than any view
You are every sing
le time someone
took me to the zoo
You are the pink palace
You are mismatched socks
You are solid rock
You are for twenty in the morning on the dot
You are every time that I cannot forget dingus
Or every time we drive I sing to you
Or when we got locked inside of the parking lot on signal mountain and the park ranger came to help us so soon
You are my best friend coming to see me when I got to college
You are the patience I gain when I
Stop wondering who the one is
Maybe you are every time I run away
You are all the times I cry so hard that it starts to rain
You are the doe that always comes near and is never afraid of what will happen next
You are the day you told me I was the girl you dreamed about
You are the day we sat in the back of my car
You are there for me when I have gone too far
You meet me further than any arrest or charger cord
And Graceland too
You’re my wonderful morning
You’re my answered prayers for sunshine
You’re every single word I type in black and white
Messy cars aren’t so bad too meme my love for this love is the only art form I choose
Loves eliminating my clouded culture
I’m ready for the day when eagles fly over
Thank you god for everything
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 3:48 AM UTC
If I lose
my phone charger
one more time
I am
going to adopt a baby...
just so I have something to punch!
Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 11:04 AM UTC
Morning rituals make you rush
But someone gets up earlier than you
You never get the chance to be first
Ah, there's a wet towel on the sofa...again!
The tiny water puddles on the floor leading to the bedroom...
The kettle is whistling now
You bump onto each other in your haste
And you both stop.....to look at each other
Eyes brighten up....slowly give out beamish smiles.
There's toast and jam on the table
Steaming instant coffee is ready, but first,
You make a cup of fresh brew, hand it to him
His eyes squint, while he sips his hot tea,
You sit, eat, without much talk...just looking,
Like, looking at each other, and what would follow,
Would suffice to complete the hours of the day...
But, you're both dressed up... all set for work...so
You start your day....he starts his...you always leave ahead...
In the office, you remembered:
"What's the matter with me?"
You forgot to charge your cellphone and ipad last night
So you look for the charger
Only to find out, both are fully charged...
Your eyes sparkle...with much longing
Ahh, you wish for time to fly
So you could head for home, fast!
He's usually very hungry when he arrives
You hurry...chicken afritada, it will be...
Wait...the frozen chicken has been thawed...gone!
Hey!
You see a *** of chicken adobo...you salivate!
You surmise, he must've done this after you left this morning,
You look up...thank God for this angel He has given you,
And for microwave ovens, too!...you tell yourself,
"Okay, okay....I'll do the dishes tonight! ...and the coming nights!"
Life is perfect with its mix of the sweet and the bitter
Blockbuster moments and flops...together...apart
Uncontrollable smiles, frowns... tickles, tears
Even the coming....and passing of life
Days don't always end up on a high note...yet, now,
You sit, and recall all that had happened this morning
And the past mornings, evenings, weekends...
All that he did....does for you each day
All that you did...do for him everyday
All the chats you share before bedtime...until he snores,
All these combined efforts are much better ways, better proofs...
He rarely says those three words most often said by lovers,
But, you soar to Heaven, when before falling asleep,
He puts your head on his chest, and whispers to you:
"You mean the world to me."
Sally
Copyright March 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 2:28 AM UTC
fishtail braids
sock and sandals
drawn mustaches
left over food
songs on repeat
semi stinky feat
sweatpants and suits
unicorns and cupcakes
phone charger cords
long summer nights
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 7:09 PM UTC
I kind of feel sad today.
Doctor says I have depression, and well...I believe him.
My dad thinks its just for attention
attention, uh?
I always feel ******
It's an everyday part of my life now.
See, today someone stole my laptop charger at school,
and my project got stolen, too.
I've never cut in my life.
I've never done drugs.
I've drank a few times, but who hasn't?
I think I'm suicidal.
But I can't wrap my head around death.
It scares me.
So instead of dying,
I tear myself to pieces wishing for it to come,
but never speeding up the process
I feel ******
I said that before.
Like, I follow a Shepard.
I'm a little lamb
but my blood seeps through my white wool.
Until eventually,
this little lamb is killed.
****
I'm sorry.
I ramble
I never make sense.
And they wonder why I am suicidal.
Last night,
there was a party.
Instead of going,
I bounced a tennis ball back and forth against my wall.
fun, right?
I hate the world,
but I'm scared to leave it.
Doctors don't help,
mothers don't help
Friends don't help
being single sure as hell doesn't help
I just feel ******
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 11:56 AM UTC
I do confess to ****
But I can't not aspirate
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 10:58 PM UTC
You are far.
Like mars far.
Like from the couch to the kitchen far.
Like end of the check-out line far.
Like you're next to me but we aren't talking far.
Like "but my phone charger is upstairs" far.
Like 4900 miles far.
Like six hours and three flight changes far.
Like a fifteen hour drive far.
Like international texting rates far.
Like impossibly far.
Like "the concert is a whole week away" far.
Like 204 marathons far.
Like country roads far.
Like "where is the nearest gas station" far.
Like commercial break far.
Like Canada far.
Aug 11, 2012
Aug 11, 2012 at 11:36 PM UTC
she’s out there on the ice again.
holy night &
positioning the gas-tanks just right.
joseph is her father, and his father,
even if not by blood,
raised flame.
foot to throat, brother remains
in the city working.
he is building a rocketship
in the basement of his apartment
complex.
back to town and dying houses.
foreclosures and fences.
lake of fire.
lights: she lingers in lights.
something so true and alive about the revelatory
of color,
of the world when lit and hit by sun
or our artifice.
her lovers: one dead by heavy
lumber, the other rewinding videotapes
in chasms of the library.
she thinks on his lips.
her dog tracks wet prints
across the carpet and floors.
wish list:
mittens
huckleberry jam
iphone solar charger
explosives
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 1:35 AM UTC
De ding de de de dilly do
Over and over and over again
That ****** subway surf music
Is driving me insane
Turn it down again and again!
Pushing the envelope
As all kids do
Up goes the volume
Just to Annoy you
But wait!! Crisis
The tablet goes bleep bleep
She cant find the charger
Oh where can it be
Im sat on the ******
HE HE HE HE HE
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 9:30 AM UTC
little me, why so sorrow?
what makes you disconnect?
seeing your body in pictures
sent shivers down your neck
the rhythmic beating
pounding as an alarm
body restless
when will you get rest then?
little me, you waited quite a while
family's opinions turned vile
it didn't matter much
you never connected
only as much as
a charger is to phone
escapism buried her
when he could be online
reversing roles and affirming yourself
only gained so much self help
a tool to be unlocked
little me, you had blocks in front of you
you played with them as trial
until they weren't meanwhile
so what did it mean to you?
what did you learn?
how did you grow?
what did you learn?
little me, you're too young to understand
one day you'll find who I am
we've always been together
tight knit and forever
don't lose the game of cards
unless you want your graveyard
Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 3:10 AM UTC
i have a mobile phone it goes off while in bed when i went to answer the battery had gone dead
back down the stairs i went to put the charger on. when i go to answer it the phantom callers gone
back up the stairs i went and now i have a cough then back down once more to turn my mobile off
Feb 15, 2010
Feb 15, 2010 at 9:50 AM UTC
you're so happy when I came
I wonder why you always call me by the same
until I found out that you have given me a name
the first time you hit me, I know you just want me to tame
but for me, I only want to hear your voice calling me and play a game
thank you for giving me the most cutest name in the world
lately I've been losing control, I think it's because of these whiskers
I'm sorry for destroying some of your slippers
maybe I just need your attention
and your affection
or maybe I'm just hungry
I began eating what I shouldn't be
thank you for feeding me the most delicious food in the world
even when I bit your charger's cord
I'm sorry for pooping on the floor
I was so nervous when you came home and opened the door
I thought you would hit me again
but I was wrong, instead,
you gave me a gentle pat on my head
thank you for walking with me
even I had chains on my neck
I know you just don't want me to be lost
you're holding me at all cost
thank you for letting me see the most beautiful places in the world
I love you, if only I could be heard
thank you for talking to me,
even you know I can't answer you back
thank you for giving me a bath
I feel so clean and also starting to love a cat
thank you for letting me sleep on your bed
when I feel so alone and cold outside, under the shed
you are the most wonderful person for me
you are the angel I always want to see
I hate it when you need to go and leave me
because I missed you from the moment you left me
you are the only one that makes me happy
I loved you since I was a puppy
and now I'm becoming old and weak
I feel so sad when I think that I only got a year of eight or nine
I will be always yours and I hope you will be always mine
I don't want to leave your side
you are my whole life
for you, I would take a bullet or a knife
so while I'm still alive,
thank you for taking care of me,
and if I die,
please don't forget me
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 11:06 AM UTC
Every morning I wake up
I turn off my alarm
And in the dead silence, and pitch blackness,
I stare at the ceiling for a bit
As my eyes adjust to being awake
I just lay there. Thinking.
About life
About the hell of getting up
For all of about five minutes
Every morning I wake up
I get out of bed
I go to the bathroom
I splash some water on my face
I brush my teeth
I swirl around some mouthwash
I put on some deodorant
I brush my hair
I wash my face
I put on some face lotion
Every morning I wake up
I put on some warm clothes
I get a drink of water
I eat an apple or a banana or sometimes an orange
Every morning I wake up
I grab my backpack and put it on my bed
I put on my belt
I slip on my shoes
I wiggle into my coat
I get at least two decks of playing cards into my coat pocket
I get my wallet in my back pocket
I get my phone in my front pocket
I get my earbuds into my coat pocket
I get my pen into my inside coat pocket
I get my flashlight into my coat pocket
I get my hand driver tool into my pocket
I get my phone charger into my backpack
Every morning I wake up
I go through this routine
Without much thought anymore
It's natural to me
To do the same thing each and every morning
Every morning I wake up
Whether I want to or not
I lock up the dogs
I feed my turtle
I turn off all the lights
I walk out the door and lock it behind me
Every morning I wake up
I follow this routine
Step by step
Without fault
Every morning we all wake up
Even if we don't want to
Even if the only thing we want to do is just lie in bed
And not deal with today
Even if the only thing we want is just a couple more minutes of precious sleep
Just a little longer in the warmth of our blankets
Just a little longer not having to go through the true hell that is today
Just a little longer to be by ourselves
But we wake up
Every
Single
Morning
We wake up
We'll continue to wake up for the rest of our lives
Each and every morning.
I think that says something about us.
I think that shows just how resilient we really are
Every morning that we wake up
It's a big middle finger to all who say we can't do it
To anybody that says we aren't strong enough
Even if you're a weeping mess all day long
Even if you don't get your schoolwork done
Even if you aren't prepared to get up
You still do.
I still do
We all
Still
Do.
I think that's just incredible.
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 11:02 PM UTC
I'm walking down the cafeteria hallway
holding a laptop that took twenty minutes to fix.
I spot her packing up her possessions from the table,
everything too spread out for her not to have eaten alone,
but she's smiling as usual
and it spreads to my lips.
I hear my name and I stop
not because someone was talking to me
but because they were talking about me
something that never happens
or never used to
until they started to see who I really was
and fall in love with that-
Clapping me on the shoulders,
sending me emails,
adding me on Facebook
congratulating me publicly
giving me hugs
stopping me in the hall
turning history into a discussion about me
being a superhero for those in need of help.
all because I have developed the guts to say something
or rather, write something
nobody else admits to being able to say.
My name comes from that table on the left
up against the lockers
first seat on the far end after the bar
my old seat, for two years.
It's those memories that have allowed me to say what I've said-
those memories of losing everything
of rebuilding, from scratch
of having my lips bleed because they are so unused they crack
of finding the darkest emotions
and recovering.
I walk five more feet and turn right.
She looks up as I approach.
I hand her her laptop and charger, smiling
as she is.
always is, always has been.
"It's done, it works"
I say, enthusiastically.
Her eyes widen in surprise
"really?"
I nod
"it only took a few minutes, it should be better"
she scoops up her stuff
and we walk away from that place together
as we always used to, freshman year
when our round table sat in that exact spot.
But three years have changed a lot:
she's smiling in my presence
and we split, heading opposite directions.
her to her locker
me to the library.
I hear the faint words
"merci beaucoup"
as I pass the 3rd post
And for a second, I want to turn back.
To walk with her like I used to her
but actually talk to her.
I continue walking.
"Four years change a person"
I think as I climb every stair
as I have, for four years.
I stop for a second,
three quarters of the way up
and watch the way the sunlight drifts in from the door window.
A beauty I never would have seen then.
I would have been too entranced in her
and now I walk alone.
I would have been far too depressed by my own problems
to say what I have.
I may be a stronger person
a better person
than sitting there at that round table
but I always someone then.
Now I stand in stairwells alone
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 4:16 AM UTC
But the sun doesn't shine
Upon me
As it used to,
Feel so attached to
My precious devices
And harnessing its
Divine potency
Just to see
Seems as if I'm
Disregarding its poetry
Blind to abusing its glow
To be shown
An ephemeral glimpse
Of some remnant of home
But its spark does not energize
My own creations
Just sates them with meager
Technology rations
And hooks me to wires
And cables
Like playthings
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 6:19 AM UTC
A warm coat on a snowy day
Words meant to be said
Stories told over and over
To-Do lists left in her head
Promises made
Bowtie for a worker’s uniform
A pair of red gloves
Umbrellas in a storm
A charger for a phone
Many different passwords used
A library book now overdue
And lessons learned too
Places which have been explored
Goals which have been made
Random keepsakes they hoard
The way that things have changed
Textbooks for a class
What makes someone strange
Combinations to a lock
Setting the alarm clock
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 3:45 PM UTC
Le Baiser de ton rêve
Est celui de l'Amour !
Le jour, le jour se lève,
Clairons, voici le jour !
Le Baiser de mon rêve
Est celui de l'Amour !
Enfin, le jour se lève !
Clairons, voici le jour !
La caresse royale
Est celle de l'Amour.
Battez la générale,
Battez, battez, tambour !
Car l'Amour est horrible
Au gouffre de son jour !
Pour le tir à la cible
Battez, battez, tambour.
Sa caresse est féline
Comme le point du jour :
Pour gravir la colline
Battez, battez, tambour !
Sa caresse est câline
Comme le flot du jour :
Pour gravir la colline,
Battez, battez, tambour.
Sa caresse est énorme
Comme l'éclat du jour :
Pour les rangs que l'on forme,
Battez, battez, tambour !
Sa caresse vous touche
Comme l'onde et le feu ;
Pour tirer la cartouche,
Battez, battez un peu.
Son Baiser vous enlace
Comme l'onde et le feu :
Pour charger la culasse,
Battez, battez un peu.
Sa Caresse se joue
Comme l'onde et le feu :
Tambour, pour mettre en joue,
Battez, battez un peu.
Sa caresse est terrible
Comme l'onde et le feu :
Pour le cœur trop sensible
Battez, battez un peu.
Sa caresse est horrible,
Comme l'onde et le feu :
Pour ajuster la cible,
Restez, battez un peu.
Cette Caresse efface
Tout, sacré nom de Dieu !
Pour viser bien en face,
Battez, battez un peu.
Son approche vous glace
Comme ses feux passés :
Pour viser bien en face
Cessez.
Car l'Amour est plus belle
Que son plus bel amour :
Battez pour la gamelle,
Battez, battez tambour,
Toute horriblement belle
Au milieu de sa cour :
Sonnez la boute-selle,
Trompettes de l'Amour !
L'arme la plus habile
Est celle de l'Amour :
Pour ma belle, à la ville,
Battez, battez tambour !
Car elle est moins cruelle
Que la clarté du jour :
Sonnez la boute-selle,
Trompettes de l'Amour !
L'amour est plus docile
Que son plus tendre amour :
Pour ma belle, à la ville,
Battez, battez tambour.
Elle est plus difficile
À plier que le jour :
Pour la mauvaise ville,
Battez, battez tambour.
Nul n'est plus difficile
À payer de retour :
Pour la guerre civile,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser le plus large
Est celui de l'Amour :
Pour l'amour et la charge,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser le plus tendre
Est celui de l'Amour,
Battez pour vous défendre,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser le plus chaste
Est celui de l'Amour :
Amis, la terre est vaste,
En avant, le tambour.
Le Baiser le plus grave
Est celui de l'Amour :
Battez, pour l'homme brave,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser qui se fâche
Est celui de l'Amour :
Battez pour l'homme lâche,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser le plus mâle
Est celui de l'Amour :
Pour le visage pâle
Battez, battez tambour.
La Caresse en colère
Est celle de l'Amour :
Car l'Amour, c'est la guerre,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser qu'on redoute
Est celui de l'Amour :
Pour écarter le doute,
Battez, battez tambour.
L'art de jouir ensemble
Est celui de l'Amour :
Or, mourir lui ressemble :
Battez, battez tambour.
L'art de mourir ensemble
Est celui de l'Amour :
Battez fort pour qui tremble,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser le plus calme
Est celui de l'Amour :
Car la paix, c'est sa palme,
Battez, battez tambour.
La souffrance, la pire,
Est d'être sans l'Amour :
Battez, pour qu'elle expire,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser qui délivre
Est celui de l'Amour :
Battez pour qui veut vivre,
Battez, battez tambour.
La Caresse éternelle
Est celle de l'Amour :
Battez, la mort est belle,
Battez, battez tambour.
La guerre est la plus large
Des portes de l'Amour :
Pour l'assaut et la charge,
Battez, battez tambour.
La porte la plus sainte
Est celle de la mort :
Pour étouffer la plainte
Battez, battez plus fort.
L'atteinte la moins grave
Est celle de la mort :
L'amour est au plus brave,
La Victoire... au plus fort !
1.7k
What you want is what I want,
You knew from the start my heart was cracked
And my love like a cornered animal;
Just as likely to strike
Or play dead,
Claw at the walls
Or eat a pumpkin seed from out of your palm.
What we want
It must count for something,
Beside the fulfilment of what we need.
It is not greed to desire,
And seek fulfillment,
But the microscopic cuts carefully concealed,
They yield ugly harvests
That lose all value on the way to the market.
I want to be the golden armored knight
On the titanium white charger,
But my armor is tarnished silver,
My steed a coal black mare.
Still, in my mind you run,
Free through a painted field,
Each brush stroke a daffodil,
Yellow and white waving at your feet.
You laughed and beckoned,
And I chased you
And caught you.
And we tumbled down the hill
Wrapped up in each other,
Giggling and shouting.
I have this image.
It is enough.
But I want more.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:42 PM UTC