"craig" poems
You were so hot I spun twice to see, call me a fan
Your regal youth made my blood boil, call you peter pan
*You were like a boomerang I wanted to throw away but you kept* coming back to me,
*And maybe I've always been scared of hurdles and you were my biggest one, 'cause I just can't* get over you, you see
I thought you were like a paradox:
Cool as ice and hot as molten rock
You were like a magician with words, drove me so crazy I was pulling out my hare,
You steal my heart like a pirate captain when I sea you standing there,
But you didn’t have any morals, I deserve to call you whoreible
Yet you still think you're cute. you know? leaving my house the way you came would be adooreble
I discovered your texts to her on my birthday, the cake was ruined with my tiers
You caught my Eye with your animal magnetism, but you’ve been a cheetah for years
What? you think this is a game? No, you don't have a clue!
You had a monopoly on my life and now your name is taboo
You said you needed some time and space to yourself you were the only one in the galaxy I Wanted,
I guess life never turns out how you planet and since you left I've been feeling haunted,
Why did I believe you were a great catch? Just because you **master *****
You made me think we could smash; every second felt like a brawl
Loving you was no gouda, though I swiss you now that you’re gone, it isn’t easy,
I said goodbye, It’s not you it’s brie, sorry that was cheesy.
You gave my life flavor but you were just a masked spyce that made my life sour like limes
I know I need to chili but you have really bad taste and we’re out of thyme
I need a holiday *from your lies, my patience is running short
I’m better off with you gone, and leaving you is my last* resort
I guess we didn't have that spark no need to be astunished,
all I know now is: IT IS TIME YOU WERE PUNISHED.
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
I always assume
that kids know how to be kids.
I'm sure we weren't taught the skills, were we?
No-one pointed to a tree and said,
"See that? Climb it."
And if Craig or Chris or Jamie pointed a finger
and said, "Bang!",
no referee had to discreetly whisper
"You're supposed to fall down now."
But something as natural as breathing
is falling by the wayside.
These small humans aren't kids -
not like we were.
Company is a chore for them,
screen-seeking solipsists,
and I worry for their future, constantly.
If my six-year-old self
were to appear amongst them
he would stand, baffled,
full of useless power
Like Spiderman
on the Norfolk Broads.
Feb 12, 2011
Feb 12, 2011 at 5:13 AM UTC
Upon a morning dreary
I took a **** which left my ******* weary
I wiped
I flushed
I exited the bathroom blushed
Twelve hours passed
Since that horrid **** left my ***
And low and behold
A smell flowed to my nose
Just as a burning arose
Underneath my *******
I knew too late the **** had stained
The flesh, my taint tucked under my ******** train
ONE WIPE WAS NOT ENOUGH...
Pretty soon around six o'clock
There came upon my door a knock knock knock
And who was there?
Who did I hear calling to my ears?
It was the *** positive, gonarreah infested, scabies encrusted, syphilis ridden, transexual sex-kitten I had started a relationship with over Craig's List
Now, listen children carefully to this...
***** tucked hisher's lips around hisher's teeth
And began a ******* that could make the Hulk weak
But it was over in a jif
When ***** caught a wiff
And that little sneak
Took a pervy peak
At the feces widely spread underneath
***** RAN AWAY CRYING
I was laughing so hard I thought I was dying
That pesky little poo
Left on hisher bottom lip
Made that entire bathroom trip
FULLFILLING
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 9:14 PM UTC
1997, 13 AUGUST, THURSDAY
You were laid in your mother’s arms,
All soft black hair and little eyes,
You took your first cry.
2014, 13 AUGUST, WEDNESDAY
Today’s your birthday,
The austere sun is burning,
Like an orange Cyclops-eye.
It’s as if Mother Nature knew
That today’s a special day.
Let the rapture abound and
Your day shall be decked with
Gold and
You shall find bliss in your
Dreams.
Orange is your colour,
Isn’t it?
Was your first shirt orange?
Fire is orange,
And you have fire inside you.
You are the fiery one who’s
Man enough to just be
Silly,
Instead of
Tough.
Your goofy stories
Never fail to tickle our funny bones.
Your adorable doodles
Capture the hearts of all.
But most importantly,
Your endearing laugh
Will stay forever etched in the mind.
Even though I’ve only known you for
114 days,
I regard you as
One of my greatest friends.
Just remember that when you’re feeling down,
Or ‘cb what is there nice in me sia’,
Look a little longer
Stare a little harder into yourself
And you’ll see,
There are some nice things
That you never noticed about yourself.
So in the noblest way,
I wish happy birthday to the one,
Who makes me laugh,
Because he can.
Hope all your wishes come true,
And your birthday cake is as sweet as you.
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC
Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
On blythe Yule Night when we were fu’,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Maggie coost her head fu’ high,
Looked asklent and unco skeigh,
Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh;
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t.
Duncan fleeched, and Duncan prayed;
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig;
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Duncan sighed baith out and in,
Grat his een baith bleer’t and blin’,
Spak o’ lowpin ower a linn;
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t.
Time and Chance are but a tide,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Slighted love is sair to bide,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Shall I, like a fool, quoth he,
For a haughty hizzie dee?
She may *** to -France for me!
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t.
How it comes let Doctors tell,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Meg grew sick as he grew hale,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Something in her ***** wrings,
For relief a sigh she brings;
And O her een, they spak sic things!
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t.
Duncan was a lad o’ grace,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Maggie’s was a piteous case,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Duncan could na be her death,
Swelling Pity smoored his Wrath;
Now they’re crouse and canty baith,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t.
4.1k
i.
He stared at the woman, eyes darting to memorize her angles and features,
at any moment this mirage could disappear.
For two full minutes he was unable to speak, too scared to let words loose;
they can no longer be hidden once they’ve been exposed.
So he kissed her instead, because he liked how it felt to no longer feel alone.
ii.
The grip of loneliness refused to let her go, like the claws of a jealous lover.
“One thing for certain, there is no god. We are completely alone, love is ********
“What if I showed you that you are not alone, how would it change your life?”
“I think I might actually be happy.”
“You are happy when you let yourself be…there is this…fire inside of you, but
every time the momentum starts to build you tell yourself whatever you need to
hear to keep it from taking you.”
iii.
“Why the hell are you starting this with me? This isn’t right.”
“Who says I’m starting anything?”
“Oh, you’re one of ‘those’ guys.”
“What are ‘those’ guys?”
“The type of guy who pretends that he doesn’t know what he’s doing, and
doesn’t admit to what he’s doing so he can play innocent when he’s called to
the carpet. But in reality, he knows exactly what he is doing, and most of it
is premeditated.”
“Like ******
“Yeah, something like that. There is a good chance something or someone
could die in this scenario.”
iv.
They laid still for a while, trying to catch their breath.
“I think your parents named you after the wrong Craig Finn character.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“They should have called you Hallelujah, because you sound like an angel
when you ***
She smiled and she kissed him and they made love again,
and she felt like an angel.
v.
He started out the door and turned, lifting his shy head to look at her
“As far as I’m concerned, you are the only one I’ve ever slept with.”
She stopped breathing, afraid to believe the nouns and verbs that were floating.
She repeated the sentence out loud after he walked away.
They were the most loving, pure and perfect words she had ever heard.
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 12:38 PM UTC
"From every wound there is a scar, and every scar tells a story.
A story says, I survived." - Fr. Craig Scott
**... a tribute to a fallen brother ― R.I.P Les
... you were with me every step of the way to the top**
crampon cleats tickle her bedrock
far below the frosty powder dusting;
released from where her majestic peak
parted yester night’s obstinate clouds.
the alpine atmosphere
first chilled and then plummeted
as the starlight glistened;
illuminated ice crystals sparkle
like diamonds in the rough.
I am overwhelmed
by the peaceful aura
surrounding me.
watching how
"these"
footprints
mark the snow
...arousing
a lucid,
stirring awareness
of my existence;
...inciting
a conscious moment,
extraordinarily deepening
the realization of being.
harlon rivers ... May 24th, 2013
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 10:18 AM UTC
complexity
is your beauty
simplicity
your mystery
interdependence
sustains you
once upon a time
we dipped bowls
into your waters
and brought up
draughts of life
now
Skipjacks go
fathoms deep
into endless
depletion
charting
entangled
dead zones
broadening
into a sea of
inertness
your delicate
eco-essence tips
toward oblivion
effluvia farmers
layer mechanized
blankets of
nitrates on your
sunset shores
weaving
green tendrils
of algae blooms
strangling the
entanglements
of all links in
your miraculous
food chain
the EPA
proscribes
a Jenny Craig
pollution diet
to halt the
slaughter in
oxygen
challenged
dead zones
where rockfish
are garroted,
oysters get drilled
by screwworms
and azure tinted
soft shell *****
dance soft
shoe taps
lifting a tinny
chorus of sad
Piedmont Blues
the flat-lining
watersheds
voiceless
warnings
tremble
rocking the
purged nests of
screaming ospreys
in vocal protest
of a sinking
Tangier Isle
anointing it’s
tombstones
of unvisited
cemeteries with
multicolored
guano
fitting
alkaline
tributes
to the lost
inhabitants
and forgotten
languages
sinking into the
brine of gray
brackish tides
Delmarva’s fine
intra-continental
balance skewed
by the oozing
industrial swill
of Frank Perdue
chicken farms
ruling the roost of
sanctioned sustainability
tinging clear watersheds
of finger lakes
set in splints to
repair dislocations
and complex
compound fractures
that may never heal
again
Music Selection:
Taj Mahal: Fishin Blues
jbm
Oakland
6/7/12
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 8:36 AM UTC
Caught you in your little affair
Eventually this had to happen
I gave away the things you’ve given to me
I’m tryin’- tryin’ to forget you
Not so hard to get you out of my mind
You came to see me one last time
Yet I almost forgot who you already
**** you keep comin' back to torment me
Take off your halo
It don't even glow
no more, i tell you woman
you brought me to an all time low
Take off your halo
don't you know
I'm done with you woman
You've lost that glow
When you changed sides
I knew the sheets has been broken into
Doesn't smell of me at all
And you're trying to give me that
I'm not so innocent look
I'm tryin' tryin' to forget you
Unraveled everything you planned to hide
The planned lies you wrote in your mind
Expected me to be a tool
I felt it was time to find
Someone else new and move on
It was time to forget but I cannot.
I'm tryin'-tryin' to forget you
Take off your halo
I'm tryin'-Tryin' to forget you
It don't shine no more
I'm tryin' trying to forget you
Take off your Halo
I'm tryin' tryin' to forget you
It don't shine no more...
In my own house, smells like you
On the couch, reminds me of you
The spot where we made love, ay
I’m tryin’ – tryin’ to forget you
The memories of you lingers on the edge
In my mind, I once dreamed of us
There’s no end to this pain
Can't you just go away
Take off your Halo
It don't even glow
No more, I tell you woman
You brought me to all time low
Take off your Halo
Don't you know
I'm done with you woman
You've lost that glow
This hardship has to end
The suffering I go through
take off, let me be alone
All this ******** aside with you,
I’m tryin’-tryin’ to forget you
Our last time together wasn't wonderful
But why did you let this come to this end
You had to play me like a fool
I'm tryin' tryin' to forget you..
Take off your halo
I'm tryin'-Tryin' to forget you
It don't shine no more
Take off your Halo
I'm tryin' tryin' to forget you
It don't shine no more...
***** I know your Halo.. It don't shine no more...
By Steven Craig 2009
Jan 19, 2010
Jan 19, 2010 at 2:00 PM UTC
I don't know.
Maybe the static in my head, or the heartbeat I long for everyday.
or maybe the running my legs like to do, no matter what pain they end up with.
Maybe it's my chapped lips and my oddly shaped head,
-it's like a circle wanting to turn into an oval-
What part of me is actually me though?
Music? No. Everyone loves everything.
The thing that I love, that no one else can like I do though, is Craig.
Pathetic - what makes me, me is my love that no one else can give to him.
No, no, no
there must be more to me.
But what?
The anger that shines through due to family, the scatterness of wantings that surround me,
or maybe, just maybe,
it's everything you could ever think of.
Into one.
Jul 1, 2012
Jul 1, 2012 at 7:47 PM UTC
Joe Mole, Marnhull Danny
1974
His eyes were luminous steel blue, alive
with twinkling shards of mischievous fun.
His face, a weathered map of his long life:
brown and crumpled, carved by clean air and sun.
A grubby khaki flat-cap, jauntily askew,
bedraggled grey-green ancient jacket
secured with hairy binder-twine (calves too),
brown dungarees, muddy boots and thumb-stick.
His gruesome work was in grazing meadows
under attack from an invasion beneath
of unwelcome little furry fellows
destined to perish between steel-sprung teeth.
Tiny corpses hung in a row (job done)
on barbed wire like Joe met at Verdun.
A Danny was the name given to any man from the village of Marnhull in Dorset. The word was in common use locally during the 1970’s but is now rarely heard.
14 lines
(FBRSO)
Copywrite: Craig Andrew White,Author, July 2011.
Jul 12, 2011
Jul 12, 2011 at 2:41 PM UTC
*That kiss I once remembered
Now lost forever
Locked the memories of you away
In a jeweled box full of photographs
Tossed over the board
Into the sea of misery
Dry tears full of sorrow
I'm gonna sail away
Sail on to a new tomorrow
On to the next great adventure
Into the unknown my darling
It's a sad, sad goodbye
It's hard
To undo
my skeleton hands
Letting go from what we once had
Great treasures
The wealth of our memories
I once held upon my broken heart
Sail on.....
Sail on.....
Sail on......*
By Steven B. Craig Oct 2012
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 2:47 PM UTC
If you were a shrub, you would be a good shrub!
Hello! SNIFF You smell different when you're awake! (Courtesy of Kollitiki)
I hate a lot of people, but you are not one of them. I also hate ducks. WOW do I ever hate ducks.
Hi there! Will you marry me?
Wanna come over to my place? I'll show you all 89.3 of my cats!
Hey babe, you wanna buy me a drink? Oh, no just water. I'm not allowed alcohol in this bar since the chainsaw incident last month with my exboyfriend....
Look babe, I know this sounds like one of those fake sobs stories made up to get you laid, but how about coming home with me? I have a terminal illness and it would just make my life complete if you would come home with me. Thank you so much baby, bless your soul. Oh, what illness? Ummm ...leprosy....
Tries to be seductive with scalp and elbows
I LOVE YOUR FAAAACE!!!!!!! (Courtesy of the ever brilliant Spencer Craig)
Your left eyebrow is ****
I don't care about my dates having good hair or a lack of BO, so you and I should date.
HIIIIIIIII I BAKED YOU A SALAD!!!
Here is a fire extinguisher gorgeous ;) .......Sorry for lighting you on fire...
Hey babe, did anyone ever tell you? Your eyes are as green as um those green sticky note thingies they sell at Walmart, and your hair is the color of frying pans.
Hey cute thing, wanna hear a fun fact? It is physically impossible to lick your elbow. Well, I mean, for you. I meant to say it is physically impossible for YOU to lick your elbow, I could lick your elbow if I wanted, that would be physically possible. (demonstrates your ability to lick the "cute-thing's" elbow) HEY WAIT COME BACK!
HEY! WANNA SEE MY SNOWMAN COLLECTION???????
I have your name tattooed on my **** wanna see? (Courtesy of The Girl Who Loved You)
Did you fall from heaven? Cause you look a little banged up... (Courtesy of The Girl Who Loved You)
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC
Hi there. I think you are beautiful people and poets if your name is on this list.
Here is the list.
There are more but if I just paste every poet I like on this site's name then it doesn't meant anything there are too many so I'm going to post later ones with the names of the poets I really like but I'm going to limit it to ten per post.
I strongly suggest you check out their poetry because it is amazing.
The order of the names has nothing to do with the quality or my favor they are all equally loved by me in different ways for their work which is all a different shade of beautiful.
I invite everyone to post a poem with 10 beautiful poets' names on this site that people should check out.
Yet another one of my challenges. If you do the "10 Beautiful Poets Challenge" add "10beautifulpoets" as a hashtag so people can find it.
Also feel free to message me if you post one of these so I can check them out too :)
Just a great way to let people know about specific beautiful poets out there.
Include something about their poetry specific to that poet beside their name. :)
Here is my list for the day:
-AllAtOnce magnificent and seriously extraordinary poetry
-Spencer Craig genius and wonderfully written
-D'Arcy Sahn Hilarious and lovely writing with good meanings
-Ena Alysopriano Powerful and phenomenal writing seriously life changingly exquisite
-Theara Steglaidias Incredibly spectacular poetry and such original fantastic ideas and well structured
-WickedHope Particularly relatable, BEAUTIFUL work AND poet
-Sir Poet Genuinely kind poet also STUNNINGLY superb and deep poetry
-Thomas A Robinson Excellent poet and poetry, fabulous work
-The Creep That Loved You Divinely marvelous poetry you need to read more than once and awesome poet (pretty awesome name too ;P
-Parsavagely Kompenere Unbelievably relatable and strikingly delightful deeply moving work and wildly talented poet
So yeah!
Check them out! :D
PLEASE REPOST THIS SO THAT AS MANY AS PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE GET INVOLVED IT WOULD BE COOL TO TELL LOTS OF OTHER PEOPLE ABOUT AWESOME POETS SO THEY GET OO ENJOY THEIR WORK TOO AND MAKE IT LIKE, A THING. 10 BEAUTIFUL POETS CHALLENGE. I ENOURAGE YOU TO PARTICIPATE! :)
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 7:55 PM UTC
** I wrote this long ago for a friend with cancer - a small malignancy the size of a pearl in her lung. The hateful thing metastasised to her pancreas after two years in the shadows - she lost her battle last week. She was 73. She was firm friends with my mother my entire life, and her own children Isobel and Craig are like my own flesh and blood. I was unable to attend the funeral due to ill health, but she requested this poem be read out at her funeral - I'm sharing it here as a tribute to her, and I've changed names to preserve her privacy and dignity. **
This kingdom's hewn of time and words
And glances flashing over
Shadows, shapes and silhouettes
And pearls of smoke and ochre.
Rude invaders! Generals!
Who dares encroach our borders?
"Naught but pearls my princess, so
We strike! At dawn! No quarter!".
Set shoulders low and feet aplant
And curl your fingers slowly.
Your enemy is swift and lean,
Ten thousand times below you.
No mercy from a princess who
Instilled in fresh disciples
Wisdom, courage, whimsy, love and
When it's called for... rifles.
Gather muskets! Catapults!
Oh marshalls! Summon nurses!
The game's afoot and outcomes?
Well, who dwells on whom we versus?
For masses swell behind you and your
Gleaming armour guides us.
Swords aflame! We saw! We came!
Wakes of pearls behind us!
Ten years hence, one hundred, more
Louises, Davids, Andrews,
Will sing with you your victory,
Sandy Alexandrou.
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 6:38 AM UTC
Even in certain circles in certain minds
in certain frames at certain times
We can't know what's true
And misconstrue can ring like
Miss you too
Self titles
Reign demeaning
And a finished product
Watched like a B-Rated pre-screening
Fed my gray matter
But the rest of me is depleting
Craig Morgan's playing baseball
Elliot Smith in the background screaming
Drinking OJ, it's how the Kardashians got there money,
Nothing good even came from the cover, trust me it didn't.
"She's in your hands now
Treat her like a Princess
You gotta respect her mind and her body"
"Welcome to Shaboom Shaboom"
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 2:04 AM UTC
Dear Seb,
My infatuation with you did not impress.
Dear Josh,
We were 5000 feet above sea level, with a fear of heights.
Desperation fuelled the climb.
Dear Dave,
You were my first love.
You chew me up and refuse to spit me out.
Dear Dan,
I am sorry.
Dear Alex,
You should be sorry.
Black and purple did not suit my skin.
Dear Shea,
We tried too hard.
We lived in too many shadows.
Dear Dave,
I cannot get you out of my bones.
You squat beneath my ribcage.
Dear Craig,
You gave me disillusion with meaningful words.
I tried to love you.
Dear Joe,
You are breathtaking and the everything of everything.
And I do not know how to be enough.
Dear Keith,
Why did we do it?
Dear Theo,
I would have broken that softness in your eyes.
Dear Dave,
Your indelible imprint colours everything I do.
Dear Cameron,
You are my what's next.
Dear Joe,
You stroked my hand and my hair to wake me.
You are afraid of me.
Dear Dave,
I still remember every word.
Every one.
Dear Lucas,
In my head we had infinity.
Dear Matthew,
I was a vacuum in your life.
Together we were less than nothing.
Dear Joe,
You are the birds singing at dawn.
Why do you want me?
Dear Dave,
I still remember.
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 6:15 AM UTC
When a man meets a woman
there's some kind of spark
No time to lose, seize that chance
When a woman meets a man
There's some fire igniting in your very soul
What do you say to your lover?
I love you
Ti amo
Je t'aime
Ich liebe dich
Te Quiero
Jag älskar dig
Time passes for nobody but love itself
That blooming passion just stays there
All alone at a moment's notice
You never know what happens
unless you say
I love you
Ti amo
Je t'aime
Ich liebe dich
Te Quiero
Jag älskar dig
Cash that love check
Time's afleeting and you don't know what to say
turn back the clock
cupid's right there by your side waiting for you to
say those magical words
I love you
Ti amo
Je t'aime
Ich liebe dich
Te Quiero
Jag älskar dig
Tender spoken word of love
Just fazes you and takes that breath away
From your velvet lips
You just don't know when that moment passes by
Unless you say it out loud
to your family, your friends, random strangers and your lovers........
I love you
Ti amo
Je t'aime
Ich liebe dich
Te Quiero
Jag älskar dig
I love you
Ti amo
Je t'aime
Ich liebe dich
Te Quiero
Jag älskar dig
I love you..
I love you..
I love you.........
Steven B. Craig 08/05/2009
Nov 14, 2010
Nov 14, 2010 at 5:17 PM UTC
The girls, the dames,
every petty thing.
The skirt, dress,
every pretty scene.
The way they tap toes
at the throws on the floor.
How bobbing their head
plucks doubt into the rhythm,
they miss the point,
but their clothing dons precision.
I'm up on stage.
They watch me from below.
Like the kneed posture pleated jeans,
patella to the floorboards.
“I saw your show.”
“No you didn't.”
But people saw you staring blankly
past.
hands me a drum stick.
“Can I have your autograph?”
“I'll do you one better.”
I stick the drumstick 6 inches in my ***
“You sounded great...”
“No I looked like I was fake”
I acted, I stressed, I posed,
and I played.
“Lets have ***
I say “No.”
It was just a show.
The act is done now the curtains
boast.
I don't bow.
I walk on out.
Through every living zombie
permanently in the crowd.
Put your ******* back on.
You will never mean anything to any of those stupid ************* girls.
Instead they will put your nudes on the internet and ruin your life.
You will think you did something great.
You were used.
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 5:50 PM UTC
Two hearts encased,
chased by a full moon overlooking the black and lucid night.
Like a bright contrasting white light spotlight on things to be.
Mine to yours and yours to me.
Two hearts into one,
the one moon spills a mana spell akin to an infinite, everlasting spoken rune over the ages.
Our stories into one,
Our hearts bond,
timeless...unsung,
It’s skips progressive stages,
beyond words on pages,
in this quiet moment past the reach of the Sun.
The fullest moon,
the furthest reach,
high in the sky contrasting the black lack of light,
night’s version of high noon.
Emboldened to fold into and hold onto you so often,
bending,
blending,
transcending so tight even our souls share light.
Eyes shut, sealed from light,
we feel and grasp and clasp and clinch at every body-inch,
sparking darkest days into brightest nights...
then, all over again, I see you, I pull you close,
and so it begins again this morning or this day or this night.
PART 2
The **** salty taste of your waist encases a place in my brain forever.
You depart...we’re apart...
Miss you fiercely,
love you deeply,
to hold you near,
feel my fears leave me,
if only I could just see thee.
My next morning starts anew with more thoughts of you and how completely I see thee as part of the whole sum of who I suddenly aspire to be.
With every rolling tumble and sweet embrace,
with every chanced glance to give chase,
with every coy kissing peck on my neck,
with every wept tear of joy
with every breath or soulful laugh you employ,
I beseech you,
Mate to my soul,
woman to this man,
girl to this boy,
my heart,
my love,
my trust are yours to have,
to hold,
to embold...
laid bare to infirm or destroy.
By R. Craig David-Copyrighted 2017
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 8:21 AM UTC
The Professor drones on.
I glimpse at my phone...quick-link to trending news... "Grease thieves" the headline reads.... Envirogeeks stealing french fry grease to run their old diesel tour bus. Willie's on the road again it seems.
I imagine 60's dressed high school girls stealing DVD's of the classic movie musical and every girl I every dated singing the part of Oliva Newton-John in all the songs. The old love-crush imagined from my boyhood brain surfaces.
The long legs of the most beautiful fair-haired Australian beauty. In that last scene wearing those tight leather jeans... "Oh Sandy"....Don’t believe me, ask your girlfriend the first thing that pops in her head when you say the word “Grease”...it won’t be french fry.
Wait candy!...Freeing my ceased-up palm from the creases of my deep-seated thesis folders, releases my pack’s last handful of Reese's Pieces. Nearly asleep, I study the candy's ingredients as Dr. ancient geek waxes eloquent about Theseus, redemption and ancient Greece. The very parallels rule my brain insanity.
The oil from Palm trees burned bright that night the ancient Greeks create a democratic state gathered in an ancient auditorium designed for debate or education or to tempt our fetes and fates with historical songs, love stories and tragedies of the day.
All so my present day brain could reference the social tragedy love songs of "Grease".... the unchanged, tour-bus-fueling power of oil and grease stolen in the name of freedom, a ancient Greek democratic freedom voted on in a auditorium the very design of this Greek History classroom copies.
****** why are they putting Palm Oil in my Reese's Pieces?!?!
11:34am starts.
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 6:15 AM UTC
I grew into my youth without fearing dinosaurs,
Because I watched too many re-programmings of Jurassic Park.
I wasn't aware that my basketball skills could take me places.
I was born here, I ran through cornfields and tall shades of grass,
playing hooky with ******* hopscotch with ******
yet still averaging 24.6ppg while playing only 20 minutes a game.
It seemed so easy and simple at first, doing these things.
My neighbor Craig down the street,
used to work at the children's hospital so he always had access to needles;
all he wanted from me was a stack of metal spoons
that I could steal from my grandmother's house so we could dissolve the ******
“This shit'll make you feel like you could never die”, he would always say.
It was the 3rd quarter of our high school opening game against Fullerton.
We played at the redeveloped convocation 20 miles south of town,
because our high school received a bomb threat earlier that week.
The court constructed with cheers and boos due to my low field goal percentage.
I stashed my lucky line inside of my practice shorts in the locker room,
so I could lie to my coaches about needing some air.
My nostrils captured the effects of this white powdery substance,
as my body started to fail and deteriorate.
I think I felt my heart stop beating when I came to the free throw line.
First shot...air ball.
Second shot...no shot, body falls to the hardwood.
My shoes squeaked like rabid mice without control,
my right leg became convulsive and spastic, my left moved none.
The floor below my body drenched in a bilinear merging of crimson red and **** yellow.
The last image that I witnessed before my eyes left this world
Were the faces of the opposing cheerleaders,
Their young eyes bleeding blue and yellow,
mascara and grief running down their pretty cheeks.
They knew this from the beginning, my parents did.
They thought I had changed and found a new sport to love.
As my body laid on the floor, my parents laid in the belly of the audience,
Incapable of shedding tears,
because their suffering overtook their ability to cry.
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 10:43 PM UTC
I might be a few years to late
As this has been decades in the making
But I'm going through with a commune
To give a few hippies something to do
So I wrote an ad, put it on a list
They say this guy Craig is the best
Now my yard is filled with hippies by the score
Or would the proper way be to say hippies galore
I hurried them all into the house
It wouldn't do for the neighbors to find this out
I set up booths in different rooms
I handed out name tags and colorful kazoo's
Don't let it be said I run a shabby commune
You gotta keep the hippies happy in all you do
That's why I have a calendar of special events
From karaoke kazoo to rug making with hemp
On Tuesday's we basket weave, Wednesday's we kite
But never in the day as hippies burn in the light
(Or is that Vampires...scratch that, that may not be right)
I even hired a Jerry Garcia look a like
To call out the numbers on Bingo night
All this hard work hasn't gone for not
Communes and Jefferson Airplane tunes last week called me up
They'd like to feature me in their magazine
A full page article on living the dream
Where I can help others to have their very on
Commune to invite a few hippies along
So go out if you can to a magazine stand
Read how it's done then buy you some land
We'll have hippie commune's from one end to the other
No color nor creed just sisters and brothers
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 7:51 AM UTC
You can remember more than the day
the hour, the second, right down to the blink
When you were on the brink
that moment you decide to ignore your basic instinct, your gut.
Your soul starts to sink.
You stop to think...
know you’re no longer in sync with what your soul needs,
your heart feels,
your mind thinks.
Your lack of love for yourself allows you to put all your dreams goals and ideals on the shelf.
There are no reasons or logic or causes to be known.
There is no legacy or growth or seeds to be sown or thrown,
and so the seceding, succeeding that sits on “Her” throne shall be well known.
Your last flickering candle exposed to the cold dark windblown unknown as you walk alone in the black.
Why did you make this decision alone...because you always were the minute you abandoned your own.
But somehow this nonsensical, unremarkable **** slipped in, equipped, betwixt, bewitched,
a too simple beseeching of your heart.
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 8:57 PM UTC