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"erace" poems
Gazing south as if some wise, well worn fisherman,leaning against the wroughted railed pier in all its victorian, gordy, standing, splendor. Warmed and held by the summer sun as close as shared spoon-cuddled arms. On thermal  air, calls and laughter rise from towelled steaked plots blinding and shading the razor sharp hungry sea-gulls eye from flakey white flesh in all its golden battered salt-shuck sharpness, competeing on the nose with hand-held melting creamyness, as they waft and weave gently by. Below the slatted sound , the magic hypnotic spell of lapping waves lift and tilt me on a day dream of youthful lost love. To a day we made our sun run in all its lazyness, dimming the enviour moon in its wake and kissing still the hands on the pasty-face black towering clock                                           As time slipped way and was some where else. With worn drift wood and tingleling toes you defaced the sand with a graphity the council tryed but couldn't erace. And there it lies still, benieth the smooth pebbled shore,                                                                                                                      kissed each day with salty tears and remembered sighs. A fearful screaming siren pieces the soft English air, Its doppled blast, chilling,  pushing, demanding its screeching way through the brain, to some others pained, tear filled day,                                                                                             then fades on the breeze. A sun blushed child frowns through pink Brighton rock lips and eyes as blue as the sea, a secert smile is shared as if in that innocence I knew  that one magic day she will run on skipping painted toes and giggles sweet to etch for him in soft blank sand her love on this dreamy day beach. So off the sea and off the pier I strole, absorbed and lost among the tripping faced crowd,into the sun dipped west and home alone. Yet knowing you will remain forever mine, held in crystal dimonded grains, whilst around the bitter -sweet changing tides ebb and flow                                down                                        through                                                           the                                                                      years.
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Feb 25, 2011
Feb 25, 2011 at 1:41 AM UTC
Pink Brighton Rock
Gazing south as if some wise, well worn fisherman,leaning against the wroughted railed pier in all its victorian, gordy, standing, splendor. Warmed and held by the summer sun as close as shared spoon-cuddled arms. On thermal  air, calls and laughter rise from towelled steaked plots blinding and shading the razor sharp hungry sea-gulls eye from flakey white flesh in all its golden battered salt-shuck sharpness, competeing on the nose with hand-held melting creamyness, as they waft and weave gently by. Below the slatted sound , the magic hypnotic spell of lapping waves lift and tilt me on a day dream of youthful lost love. To a day we made our sun run in all its lazyness, dimming the enviour moon in its wake and kissing still the hands on the pasty-face black towering clock                                           As time slipped way and was some where else. With worn drift wood and tingleling toes you defaced the sand with a graphity the council tryed but couldn't erace. And there it lies still, benieth the smooth pebbled shore,                                                                                                                      kissed each day with salty tears and remembered sighs. A fearful screaming siren pieces the soft English air, Its doppled blast, chilling,  pushing, demanding its screeching way through the brain, to some others pained, tear filled day,                                                                                             then fades on the breeze. A sun blushed child frowns through pink Brighton rock lips and eyes as blue as the sea, a secert smile is shared as if in that innocence I knew  that one magic day she will run on skipping painted toes and giggles sweet to etch for him in soft blank sand her love on this dreamy day beach. So off the sea and off the pier I strole, absorbed and lost among the tripping faced crowd,into the sun dipped west and home alone. Yet knowing you will remain forever mine, held in crystal dimonded grains, whilst around the bitter -sweet changing tides ebb and flow                                down                                        through                                                           the                                                                      years.
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I toss and turn  to erace the memory Focus on something delightful A sunny day A moonlight night Flash, and freeze frame, my brain explodes in pain The pain of deciet The sight, the smell, the taste....of your deciet The tears threaten to drown me As our special child sleeps, unaware ....of your deciet No anger yet,  just this deep pain filled night Questions without answers A name without a face **** YOU ...Why? Lies...how long the lies? The bedside clock reads 3 o clock... The hour of great mercy! Another lie... midway between 12 and 6.... dark and light... and another tird day thinking,... wondering of you and your mistress.
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Mar 11, 2010
Mar 11, 2010 at 2:29 PM UTC
3 O Clock
to let it go what a mess could not learn from my mistakes i was going to do what it takes true love so hard to face how would will you know if you do not try i could never let it go from thirty years ago i tried my best i could never sleep in my mind to deep i weep i lost something that i could not replace never left my place if i missed a call it could not be traced that time could not be a waste i had to stop the chase but in my head i could not get it to erace another love could not replace look at my face no one could fill my need how do you stop a heart bleed that is thirty years old you say by letting it go i tried
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Oct 17, 2021
Oct 17, 2021 at 9:23 PM UTC
i tried