Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"connor" poems
Oh Savoir faire, the emotions you share with your heart and your mind let me know we are truly two of a kind. This woman you speak of, the love of your life is a destination you seek when she is your wife. A goal set in motion by your mother and me from a memory you have, age two perhaps three lights the path of your journey so you're not traveling blind oh Savoir fair we must be two of a kind. Love you Son keep on writing -Patrick D. O'Connor SR.-
0
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 4:25 AM UTC
A Father's Response AKA "Know How"
My wish for you is that you have a neverending series of dreams and a             furious desire to realize a few of them. My wish for you is that you love what must be loved and forget what must be forgotten. I wish you passions. I wish you silences. My wish for you is that you hear the songs of birds and the laughter of children at your awaking. My wish for you is that you resist the downtroddenness, the indifference, the negative virtues of our era.My wish for you especially is that you be YOU!(translated from the French by Dennis O'Connor)
0
Feb 20, 2010
Feb 20, 2010 at 10:48 AM UTC
''Letter to the Son I Never Had'' by Jacques Brel
Words      that constantly run through my mind and fill my vision      I can't get enough Canisters and bottles      that bring me peace when I'm done dealing His hands      that make me shake with desire and terror Hello Poetry       -- now I have somewhere to put everything Connor Jessup and Finnick Odair      because I'm a fangirl Pain      and it follows me everywhere Sunsets and starry nights      that I can't stop drawing Photography      -- always My religion and beliefs      -- I'll never sell out
0
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
Addicted (Challenge by Stardust)
Dear Ice Cream Why do you always trick me I buy and eat you But you tempt me, and I eat all of you Then I have none left But I want ice cream so much I also want to be a runner I want to be a swimmer I want to be an athlete. But I continue to eat you Again And again And again. What the heck. I can be an athlete and still eat you I shall be an ice cream eating Race winning champion Thanks to you. -Connor G.
0
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 2:31 PM UTC
Dear Ice Cream
Sometimes I wonder if a man can change Truly Can he become more? Can one simply decide that the point has been reached? That there's simply nothing left to lose, and no lower to descend. Does he then, simply shed the burdens of a lifetime of errors? No. A man must carry the full weight. He must claw, he must fight his way out of the depths. He must surrender to none, he must fight to climb. And in the journey he finds. The climb is endless. -Brian Patrick O'Connor SR- 2016
0
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 11:17 AM UTC
The Climb
Drifting in the shade of Hello Poetry's long lost grave In archive (a kingdom's history) the past that has been made Stepping on the bleached out bones The pale parade of long dead dreams Crunching fragments of sentenced themes burning books , poems stuffed inside the reams Epitaphs to their honor 2010 comments to poets Vickey , Fix , and O'Connor Poems to praise lost in time I hold in hand the words that bind Great poems whose eyes were never shed In a broken aspiration now lay dead Cruch , crunch , the landscape littered in 2012 Oh what sacred feelings not forthwith Here ! lay my poems to rest here In 2014 my poems of yesteryear
0
Aug 25, 2025
Aug 25, 2025 at 1:20 AM UTC
Boneyard of Broken Dreams
Peanut Butter and Jam I like peanut butter, I like toast with jam don't care too much for brocolli on a stick or a hunk of liver that's really thick I really like swiss cheese on ham dont like the spill of oil, don't like it one **** bit like the smile of small young child with their mother that is a smile that is like no other hated wrestling getting my face in the arm pit loved coping a buzz and hearing music from a live band loved the feel of my loved ones soft lips on mine its cool watching old movies about Franenstien always liked everything I tasted with the Nestles brand I hate wars and senseless killing it just makes no ******* sense I don't like it when my jockey shorts ride up my crack I get jealous of someones fame when I think they are a hack I look at my final desitination with no false pretense going to the moon would be such a spiritual thing meeting my president would be such a special honor it would be fun playing tennis with Jimmy Connor how I would love to be on stage with friends and sing wish I could have met Jesus Christ the man his mistreatment on any level was way to cruel if I drink to much I have a tendency to drool hey remember the Nanny her name was Nan the Little Rascals were such silly kids, their Woman Haters Club was such a fake now how long does it take to bake a cake too sad when once famous people hit the skids why does everything taste like chicken fried will this world recover from the financial woes will the hopes of all the poor ones in back rows I thought of death and then I cried now the words can flow freely for this is who I am I will never be rich or famous my shoulder I will lend I will always be here if you are in need of a friend yes I really really love peanut butter and jam Gomer Lepoet...
0
Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 4:06 AM UTC
Peanut Butter and Jam
Peanut Butter and Jam I like peanut butter, I like toast with jam don't care too much for brocolli on a stick or a hunk of liver that's really thick I really like swiss cheese on ham dont like the spill of oil, don't like it one **** bit like the smile of small young child with their mother that is a smile that is like no other hated wrestling getting my face in the arm pit loved coping a buzz and hearing music from a live band loved the feel of my loved ones soft lips on mine its cool watching old movies about Franenstien always liked everything I tasted with the Nestles brand I hate wars and senseless killing it just makes no ******* sense I don't like it when my jockey shorts ride up my crack I get jealous of someones fame when I think they are a hack I look at my final desitination with no false pretense going to the moon would be such a spiritual thing meeting my president would be such a special honor it would be fun playing tennis with Jimmy Connor how I would love to be on stage with friends and sing wish I could have met Jesus Christ the man his mistreatment on any level was way to cruel if I drink to much I have a tendency to drool hey remember the Nanny her name was Nan the Little Rascals were such silly kids, their Woman Haters Club was such a fake now how long does it take to bake a cake too sad when once famous people hit the skids why does everything taste like chicken fried will this world recover from the financial woes will the hopes of all the poor ones in back rows I thought of death and then I cried now the words can flow freely for this is who I am I will never be rich or famous my shoulder I will lend I will always be here if you are in need of a friend yes I really really love peanut butter and jam Gomer Lepoet...
Continue reading...
38
For it is written to grant forgiveness No matter difference or malfeasance To never speak ill of one another Or deny each other our subsistence All men are created equal parchment Holding these truths to be self-evident The oppression of the Kings colony Patriotic revolutionary Migrating minds irrational to sane Reserved safe harbor but to others pain Land of self-righteousness and victory Exceptionalism and destiny Ships billowing with holds of chattel slaves Fractional human beings ordained graves Until brother killed brother for freedom Assassination emancipation Forty acres and a mule recompense Jim Crow separate but equal pretense Lynch mob street justice terrorism rope Vietnam veteran unable to cope James Earl Ray bullet Memphis balcony Bull Connor another dead Kennedy Black power fist raised Mexico City Malcolm X panther Muhammed Ali White supremacy freedom riders dead Mississippi white cross on fire dread Rodney King can’t we just get along plea Is skin color all we will ever see? Should they get over their Mockingbird past Should they burn the city or should they fast? Oh Lord should we turn a cheek in silence Or fight with Kings dream of non-violence?
0
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
Why Do They Act That Way?
Blazing the sun, Here I am living my life having fun. The days go by in a world that never sleeps. Despite my efforts in life of doing my best. Life to me feels like it is a test. Sometimes I weep, I feel like I’m playing on a deck of cards. Sometimes people ask, what’s the matter? But my life’s just getting better. My soul is like the ocean, Strong, deep and wild. Adventurous and creative to the core. I find myself wanting more. I’m surrounded in a world that’s just about vanity, but to me that’s just insanity. Sometimes I feel down, I feel like a clown. There are times I cry and die a little inside. My head feels like it’s going to explode when I feel anxious, moments when my head feels like it’s on fire because I feel dire. I walk alone because I’m wise. I avoid small minds. Music and clarity are the only things that keep me away from insanity. They are the reflection of my aura. The definition of my life’s mission. After all, I’ll always do what I can with my time just to be fine. There’s no need to use my intuition. A poem written by Connor Vibes. (2018 - All rights reserved)
0
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 4:22 PM UTC
Blazing in the sun.
- today, I was offered the chance to buy two 40 mg Adderall pills. At first I though, "Eh, a nice dime bag sounds better to me" But then I remembered my school's mandatory drug testing, and then I remembered this horrible writer's block that has been plaguing me. I had heard from friends in the past that the amphetamine-salt combo worked wonders for students. I had heard that the wonder drug made you do stuff. Any stuff. Anything. You can not sit still after popping over the dosage of Adderall. You clean your room, you read a book, you write an essay and for me, hopefully, write. Enough with the ******** It's been about forty minutes since I swallowed one and half pills and ground up and snorted another half of one. Okay. I feel as though I maybe breathing louder than normal. Also, I'm not writing one line and then switching over to tumblr as I usually do. Also, my room is really ***** Also, I've drunk two sprites and ate some leftover Chinese food. Also, it's really ******* quiet. It's eery. Also, yesterday in my English class this really nice openly gay kid named Connor walked across the class and as he did so this other kid sitting next to me whispered quite loudly ****** and I did nothing but sit there and angrily stare at my desk. Also, it's been eating me up inside ever since. Also, about an hour ago my mom took my (half) baby sister so see her **** of a) father. She said she'd be home around seven thirty and it's seven twenty eight but she's usually late. Also, I wish she would buy me cigarettes. Also, it's Thursday and I have a D- in Biology. **** Also, I might hangout with my friend Ryley tomorrow. Also, I might become a methamphetamine addict. Also, I spelled that without using spell check.
0
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 10:29 PM UTC
Adderall // Also.
- today, I was offered the chance to buy two 40 mg Adderall pills. At first I though, "Eh, a nice dime bag sounds better to me" But then I remembered my school's mandatory drug testing, and then I remembered this horrible writer's block that has been plaguing me. I had heard from friends in the past that the amphetamine-salt combo worked wonders for students. I had heard that the wonder drug made you do stuff. Any stuff. Anything. You can not sit still after popping over the dosage of Adderall. You clean your room, you read a book, you write an essay and for me, hopefully, write. Enough with the ******** It's been about forty minutes since I swallowed one and half pills and ground up and snorted another half of one. Okay. I feel as though I maybe breathing louder than normal. Also, I'm not writing one line and then switching over to tumblr as I usually do. Also, my room is really ***** Also, I've drunk two sprites and ate some leftover Chinese food. Also, it's really ******* quiet. It's eery. Also, yesterday in my English class this really nice openly gay kid named Connor walked across the class and as he did so this other kid sitting next to me whispered quite loudly ****** and I did nothing but sit there and angrily stare at my desk. Also, it's been eating me up inside ever since. Also, about an hour ago my mom took my (half) baby sister so see her **** of a) father. She said she'd be home around seven thirty and it's seven twenty eight but she's usually late. Also, I wish she would buy me cigarettes. Also, it's Thursday and I have a D- in Biology. **** Also, I might hangout with my friend Ryley tomorrow. Also, I might become a methamphetamine addict. Also, I spelled that without using spell check.
Continue reading...
28
Day- June 14, 2015, Time- 8:07pm When you were born With those SLEEPY eyes Ready to take on the world And your BIG brothers, Mike and Connor. With that cute little nose, Forever Daddy's little princess, And Mommy's little girl! 9lbs. 13 oz. 22 inches You were a big baby Born into a BIG family, And we'll always be there for you, And your brothers will always PROTECT you! You and your cousin, Avery, will be GREAT FRIENDS! Tea parties, sleepovers, and more. We'll have to wait and see What you decide to be! So now all I have to say, baby girl, "Welcome to the world and the family, Sarah! WE LOVE YOU!
0
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 2:14 PM UTC
Baby: Sarah Rose McNally
There are few words to describe how I feel about the love of my life, but I hope that this will. "I sit beside a nurse The love of my life And God willing one day She will be my wife. I watch her get ready Her makeup and hair. And smile as she goes Where only few dare. She walks beside the timid, The mild and meek She is the strength When they are the weak. She battles the sickness The lows and the highs. She is the savior of so many lives. She is my angel My princess, my queen. My nurse is the maker of so many dreams." -Brian Patrick O'Connor SR.- 2016
0
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 5:00 PM UTC
My hero
The year I would turn nine Charlie Kelly threw his pint over Paul Brennan in the opening scenes of a new Irish drama called Fair City. The 25th Dáil was dissolved. Ireland got its 1st lotto millionaire. There was talk of mining for gold in Mayo and Christy O’Connor Jnr won the Ryder Cup for Europe. (Years later playing Trivial Pursuit one of the questions wanted to know: what profession gets the Ryder Cup? — a cousin from Carlow answered; prostitutes.) I was growing through 3rd class St. Brendan’s National School; Loughrea — on the other side of Tiananmen Square another student stood up as the Guildford Four walked free after 14 years innocently incarcerated. While in Germany, a wall that had been built to divide: separate, fell. Pushed over by people. While Hungry, Poland and Czechoslovakia: all said: enough. The Russians left Afghanistan and in South Africa Apartheid began to crumble. Pity it was allowed to even begin. Iran was ****** off about some book and on Christmas Day in Romania Mr and Mrs Ceausescu were executed. In 1989, the Church of Ireland allowed female priests. 96 people died at Hillsborough. Haughey was Taoiseach, Mr. Heaney was conferred as Professor of Poetry at Oxford and we qualified for Italia 90. I was 9 and the only thing I remember about that year; I fell out of a tree and broke my arm.
0
Nov 7, 2010
Nov 7, 2010 at 11:53 AM UTC
Reeling in the Years
Day- Septemeber 15, 2013 Time- 11:46am When you were born With those BIG blue eyes Looking up at your mommy and daddy With that cute little button nose like your daddy And you're cute little ears like your mommy You're so much like your mommy and daddy And yet so much different in so many ways We'll just have to wait and see! ❤ 7lbs 2oz. and 20inches You're such a cute little GIRL Born into a big family Who will always be there for you And PROTECT you And you're COUSINS, Mikey & Connor, will be there for you, too With LOVE & CARING So all I have left to say, baby girl, *"Welcome to the world and the family, Avery! You're gonna do great things! WE LOVE YOU!"*
0
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 9:48 PM UTC
Baby: Avery Madison
I wanna fight with you, I wanna argue and say horrible mean things to you, I wanna hurt you, Disregard your existence Make you go insane, Point out all your flaws in the name of love, And then throw glass at you, Raise our voices in extreme fury, Fight me, Break me, Burn me, Make me know that you want me, For God sakes if I don't know I'm leaving, I'll quit, I'll run out the door into another's arms if you don't make me feel like I matter, **** you, Go! Get out of here, And grop that girl you met last night, I don't need you, Even though I love you, Even though I can rip open my chest and expose that which I've kept hidden for year, Yeah the scar tissue shows, Not pretty, I know, I can't do that with Dan, or Connor, or Brandon or Matt, If they saw the ugliness underneath I never would hear from them again, But with you, With your patience and understanding I cannot feel anymore at home, Isn't that the feeling ones suppose to feel, Real? I feel like I can be absolutely real, Like the DNA can unravel and unwind, I don't have to hid anymore, Not with you, or around you, I can be me! I'm just a bit afraid that you're the only one I can find, The only one that I can ever be with, The only one who would make me feel completely and utterly whole… Make sense?
0
Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 8:53 PM UTC
I can be me around you
Never again will I stay away. I've always felt lost. Unaccepted. But that was before I had a family. I have so many people that I know and don't; You are my family. My mother, my father, my brother. They aren't real. They never treated me like family. Never told me they loved me and Sounded like they meant it. They are not real. But, Sage, my love, you are. But, Caitlyn, you are. But, Logan, you are. (Both of you) But, Miranda, you are. But, Connor, you are. And I can go on. And this is high school... Will it last? Or will my family leave me? I continue to worry As time passes. I think and think and think AND I CAN'T FUCKINGNG TAKE IT ANY LONGER!!!! ---- I wonder what will happen. When all of this ends. Because my real family are The ones who kept me here And kept me sane. And let me reach past everything that Ate at me, Burned me, Killed me slowly And rotted me from the inside out. What will happen. Will I move on, Or will the suspense keep building.
0
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 1:36 PM UTC
As the Suspense Builds
When you got home in the early morning hours You said that you were with someone I was not mad When you told me how you met them You had the night of your life I was not mad When you told me that you tried to leave their room You were begged not to go I was not mad When you told me you felt so connected to them You were their everything I was not mad When you told me how you placed your hands on their chest You told me of the breaths you shared I was not mad When you fell into my arms, cried and told me You had barely saved their life I was so proud -For all who have sacrificed for the well being of the unknowns- -Brian Patrick O'Connor SR.- 2016
0
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 5:19 AM UTC
When You and I
Basil, you enchant me. Your story is so interesting. Your writer is equally as smart, But you're the fittest for your part. If only everypony knew your life. Perhaps they help you through this stormy night...
0
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 11:32 AM UTC
For Connor's story
Just imagine? If legal segregation came back in modern time? Or placed on the legislature? Just think of the uproar? If that race in love with guns now? They would be extremely in love with them more. It just wouldn't go over. This group that treated like second class by some. Would put that group in place? They have to face facts? Just like the protest of Black Live Matters? Where? We see many refusing to acknowledge their truth that minorities quick to get killed by officers appearing like Bull Connor squad. And just like logic offered about slaves seeking their freedom. You find that race giving oddest reasons for in place segregation. We aware that many hard workers in society? Never been many executives with the suits? And we can paint a picture of this various group. Segregation, never served an honest purpose? Just for intimidation fear. And now that one group facing the blunt reality of life. They speak of their rage and stupidity that many minorities surpassing them. We see this with many politicians seeking votes? They know when to manipulate this group simply for votes. It's not the Latinos taking their jobs? Or anything any African Americans have done. It just they trying to rule once more. And finding many less fortunate races not going. So legal segregation just their dream.
0
Jun 24, 2019
Jun 24, 2019 at 4:08 PM UTC
If Legal Segregation Came Back
Bull Connor, like the Dutch Boy from Haarlem, put his finger in a hole to plug a burgeoning leak. But Bull Connor, unlike the boy from Haarlem, did not foresee the raging torrents of history, smashing against the crumbling walls of the porous **** he sought to buttress. His decadent heroism held no moral authority to sustain his ungodly labors. His savage dogs, hungry for meat, bent on aggression for a twisted masters bidding were devoured by the teeth of a movement hungry for justice. His water cannons, tiny water pistols, ****** into the mighty squalls of a raging hurricane that blew the stinking ***** back onto his face. The weight of history moves with the just. Untruth, arch rival of justice, is blown away, like an expired candle snuffed out, blessedly extinguished from the first breath of a glorious new day. Bull Connor doesn’t rest in peace. He stands on the other side of the river. He is the rich man driven by insane thirst begging for water from a comforted Lazarus, now secure in the ***** of Abraham. Bull Connor looks across the chasm of fire he knows he'll never bridge. Medgar Evers and MLK Jr. stand as keepers, collecting tolls for a heavenly passage from the wages he earned for his earthly work. A forlorn Bull Connor forever searches deep empty pockets for fare as Martin and Medgar patiently wait with outstretched palms. Music Selection: The Soul Stirrers, Jesus Gave Me Water MLK Jr. Day 1/20/86 NYC jbm
0
Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 8:55 AM UTC
Epitath for Bull Conner
Miah is the girl I was: And in a way I envy her. She only felt artificial pain That the character creator gave her. Ben is the one who was my friend, But who showed his true colors later When I needed him most, he left me alone As a character, he was barely even hated. Connor, well, his story's not told While I'm still reeling from his counterpart's words I plan to write it soon, and then I will spare her no allegorical hurt.
0
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
Allegory
It's been seven hours and fifteen days Since u took your love away I go out every night and sleep all day Since you took your love away Since you been gone I can do whatever I want I can see whomever I choose I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant But nothing I said nothing can take away these blues 'Cause nothing compares Nothing compares to you It's been so lonely without you here Like a bird without a song Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling Tell me baby where did I go wrong Nothing compares Nothing Compares to you I could put my arms around every boy I see But they'd only remind me of you I went to the doctor and guess what he told me Guess what he told me He said girl you better try to have fun No matter what you do But he's a fool 'Cause nothing compares Nothing compares to you All the flowers that you planted, mama In the back yard All died when you went away I know that living with you baby was sometimes hard But I'm willing to give it another try Nothing compares Nothing compares to you Nothing compares Nothing compares to you Nothing compares Nothing compares to you
0
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 7:49 AM UTC
nothing compares 2 u by Sinead O'Connor
Listening to “The Chieftains” again, Their Long Black Veil CD: a gift to Marijuana smokers. N'est-ce pas? **** Jagger singing the title track, A sweet, lugubrious ode to black widows. Could there be such creatures? Women you would **** for, Offing your best friend for? She had better be as good as it gets. Could such women exist? Beautiful & toxic; Duplicitous, cunning, Cunnilingus-worthy. *********** | *** Risk and Prevention | HIV/AIDS | CDC https://www.cdc.gov/hiv/risk/oralsex.html has a low *** risk, but it is not zero. Learn ... Involves using the mouth to stimulate the ****** *********** (www.ads/right/in/the/middle/of/fucking/poem.com) $$Ka-Ching! Ka-Ching$$ **** would have licked her **** as They led him up the scaffold steps, She was a woman worth dying for, to be sure. And Sinéad Marie Bernadette O'Connor? Isn’t it time we forgave her? So she shaved her head. So she shredded the Pope’s photo on SNL. He was, after all, the Polish Pope, The one that kissed the ground Whenever he got off an airplane. How could you not love the guy? Shot while riding in his Pope Mobile, He later visited Mehmet Ali Ağca in prison, Forgiving his would-be assassin face-to-face, Exonerating the Bulgarian kreplach, for all Special Victims Unit “especially heinous offenses” & Proto-Islamic terror. Surely, he could forgive the little Irish **** Can’t we? Leading by example? I don’t know what you’d call it. In any language: powerful. Oh, Sinead, my sweet Sinead, We miss your sweet sad dulcet tones. Consider yourself exonerated. Consider yourself free to be loved again. And let’s not forget Tom Jones, Come on ladies: you threw your sopping Wet ******* to the stage for him. His “Tennessee Waltz” breaking my heart, Losing my wife to my best friend. No wonder I shot the Sheriff. Surprised I did not also shoot the Deputy. And “The Chieftains” themselves, Transporting us to the Coast of Malabar. We are all Irish sailors Infatuated, hopelessly enchanted by a Swarthy Dravidian shiksa.
0
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 5:05 PM UTC
"The Coast of Malabar"
Listening to “The Chieftains” again, Their Long Black Veil CD: a gift to Marijuana smokers. N'est-ce pas? **** Jagger singing the title track, A sweet, lugubrious ode to black widows. Could there be such creatures? Women you would **** for, Offing your best friend for? She had better be as good as it gets. Could such women exist? Beautiful & toxic; Duplicitous, cunning, Cunnilingus-worthy. *********** | *** Risk and Prevention | HIV/AIDS | CDC https://www.cdc.gov/hiv/risk/oralsex.html has a low *** risk, but it is not zero. Learn ... Involves using the mouth to stimulate the ****** *********** (www.ads/right/in/the/middle/of/fucking/poem.com) $$Ka-Ching! Ka-Ching$$ **** would have licked her **** as They led him up the scaffold steps, She was a woman worth dying for, to be sure. And Sinéad Marie Bernadette O'Connor? Isn’t it time we forgave her? So she shaved her head. So she shredded the Pope’s photo on SNL. He was, after all, the Polish Pope, The one that kissed the ground Whenever he got off an airplane. How could you not love the guy? Shot while riding in his Pope Mobile, He later visited Mehmet Ali Ağca in prison, Forgiving his would-be assassin face-to-face, Exonerating the Bulgarian kreplach, for all Special Victims Unit “especially heinous offenses” & Proto-Islamic terror. Surely, he could forgive the little Irish **** Can’t we? Leading by example? I don’t know what you’d call it. In any language: powerful. Oh, Sinead, my sweet Sinead, We miss your sweet sad dulcet tones. Consider yourself exonerated. Consider yourself free to be loved again. And let’s not forget Tom Jones, Come on ladies: you threw your sopping Wet ******* to the stage for him. His “Tennessee Waltz” breaking my heart, Losing my wife to my best friend. No wonder I shot the Sheriff. Surprised I did not also shoot the Deputy. And “The Chieftains” themselves, Transporting us to the Coast of Malabar. We are all Irish sailors Infatuated, hopelessly enchanted by a Swarthy Dravidian shiksa.
Continue reading...
52
I can see it all so clear as the wind from the oncoming storm ravages the trees on the Northern side of the mountain as if trying to uproot them I gaze from above on Bear's Den as Connor Brooks tries to finish the mowing on his 40 acres and Molly's cries for him to get inside before dinner gets cold echo upwards in waves beautiful waves The Village Market serves the last few customers before closing up for the evening Birdman, Mike and Fuzzy, all friends since high school are stopping at the Horseshoe Curve for a glass or three while discussing their shared memories and of-course Sarah...scurrying to get the clothes off the line before the downpour unaware her every sensual move is being watched by the unlucky poet who didn't quite grasp the moment and reap the harvest that lay there awaiting his attention so many years have passed timing never was something that seemed to fall my way always seemed to be a day behind realizing what I should have done the day before most things you get over most missed chances eventually dissolve into the blur of life like a bruise Sarah never dissolved never blurred she hesitates for a moment after picking up the basket of clothes as if she heard a far off voice call her name it's just the wind
0
Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 10:32 AM UTC
it's just the wind