"gentlemanly" poems
On a New Year's Day in Reykjavik
I stood at the very top of that old city,
intending to visit the Cathedral there.
All at once, there it was. And it was in charge.
A gust of wind so strong that it grabbed and
slid me, speeding across several metres of ice,
only to slam, face first, into the broad chest
of a resident British Embassy staffer.
Genially, he smiled down and introduced
himself with gentlemanly aplomb.
No wonder they had an empire. At least for a while.
Oh, that wind! Ever seen snow moving horizontally?
Or felt a hole being drilled, in one ear, almost out the other?
Deep in the ancient countryside, on the way to the sea,
is a lonely valley, held captive by the power of a brutal
Gigantic troll. There, this wind has its greatest rival.
Even if you can't see them, just tell me you don't feel them...
In Reykholt now, that bullying wind buffets a cozy house,
but to no avail, for angels watch over a newborn baby girl.
Her mother, just a girl when we first met,
now sings tenderly to her own new daughter.
Both are princesses of this beautiful island country.
Finding kindness, that tough old wind has sent
Halldora's lullaby across the open ocean,
over wide blue skies, and onto this snowy prairie
where I hear it and cradle it softly, and so gently, to my heart.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 7:10 PM UTC
Kiss after sensual kiss leads to what I would find as an inevitably ****** placement between us, that avenue of lust which we mutually entered once we were on the same level of thinking.
I lean into you, inhaling the intimacy second after second from your tasty lips, biting your lip and running my fingers through your hair as my hands ease slowly down to your neck, caressing you and easing down farther and farther until I'm caressing a breast.
Call me crazy, but I think I'm in love, or at least its unmistakably destructive premonition. Lifting your shirt and kissing on flesh, making your toes curl under overwhelming chills being sent from your abdomen.
Easing back up to you, I can see your eyes, I catch them and keep them in place, letting you know full well that I intend to enjoy you fully.
And you let me.
Easing down and absorbing your figure, kissing and tracing down your belly and easing into a certain heaven before coming back up and stripping you down gently, making you smile at the gentlemanly figure that you call yours.
Can I love you down? lying you down fully extended, can I get onto you as if we could share the same space against scientific belief?
I ease into you slowly, only speeding in a way as to show my own urgency isn't priority.
And we make one. easing into your form, our bodies become entwined, become one at last.
suppressing your pleasurous scream with my own warm kisses, I allow us to combine again and again, and become one once more as our nerves and hormones take over in this ritualistic connection.
Made love? we make emotion. Stripped bare and enjoying the ****** pleasures given us, ****** after ****** kiss after juicy kiss and scream after luscious, pleasured filled scream until we finally reach what I like to call climactic end and level up in our relationship. At last, though we are still levels away from the final intimacy, we are closer than we have been before, and the closer we get, the deeper and more sensual our encounters are.
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 8:46 PM UTC
I'm tired of not having a date
to take me out on a Saturday night
When nobody calls me and its getting late
Its such a pitiful sight
So I've decided to put on my wizard hat on
then go down to the basement below
and when my family have all gone
I'll build my very own boyfriend and nobody would know
He'd have eyes so dark and dreamy
he'd have arms that'd hug me tight
and when he'd turn his face to see me
his face would shine real bright
In a huge *** I stirred the magic brew
and I started dreaming of my lover boy
dreaming of all the lovey-dovey things he'd do
I started to bubble up with joy
I threw in hairspray for wonderful hair
and a Jon Bon Jovi CD for a heavenly voice
For huggability I also threw in my teddy bear
along with all my other stuffed toys
I added cologne and expensive perfume
so he'd always smell like a cool breeze in spring
My boyfriend would be nearly perfect I assume
and he'd be made up of all sorts of wonderful things
I threw in a black tuxedo and dancing shoes
so he'd be classy and gentlemanly
He'd be the perfect boy I would choose
to start my perfect family
As I was done with my recipe
I chanted my magic spell
smoke and fumes rose up endlessly
My hardwork was complete I could tell
Out popped out this boy wonder
who looked dreamy as could be
My knees went weak and my heart spat thunder
as I giggled nervously
We went on our first date
but It was a disaster straight from hell
This monster I decided to create
made me want to take back that awful spell
Me and wonderboy did not work
and we broke up instantly
with no love he turned out to be a ****
completely devoid of chivalry
The good things in a man
are not always the things that show
you see you must understand
True Love isn't what you think you already know
The things that send you head over heels
may not be the things that truly last
because the boy wearing expensive perfume
may turn out to be just another *******
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC
Water is reeked with nicotine
The souls are reeked with Ginsberg
but the heads and the thoughts have both pungent smell like
hot rooster comb flowers
I slept last time the day before yesterday
I saw the ****** Mary so beautiful
in that glow of blue & gold
neons of Bethlehem
thumbing a lift near a cadillac with CD plate
& the jazz was caroling in wet sand
there were twelve bars in the honour of that boy
who has to come here one day finally, ****
he has to come just for jamming in this world
as it's said he could /!/ get all that mess of ours
off ourselves gentlemanly playing the part.
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 5:31 AM UTC
The king of cover-up is at it again,
Downplaying financial ties
And close connections with other countries,
Especially when questions arise.
First it was with Putin and Russia.
How much collusion remains to be seen.
Conspiracy in election meddling?
Whitewashing is now routine.
And then there was the hush-money
To cover-up some hanky-panky.
Dissimulation's easy when
You've got money in the banky.
It looks as though you must deny
And try to hide actions you rue,
But calling your fling "horse face," is that
A gentlemanly thing to do?
Now the cover-up deals with the Saudis--
With the crown prince and the Saudi king.
Denial…admittance…rogue players…
It has such a familiar ring.
After bragging over and over
About the millions of dollars he's made
From wealthy Saudis, his words are now
Exploding like a hand grenade.
When the leader has conflicts of interest,
Critics, pundits, and others who know
Where his interests really lie,
Shrug and say, "We told you so!"
He says he has a "natural instinct
For science." Isn't THAT a joke!
I wish his "natural instinct" was for
Telling the truth whenever he spoke.
-by Bob B (10-18-18)
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 10:34 AM UTC
Lord Henry Dickenbottem
Lived among his peers
A mind of deepest arrogance
Concealed between his ears
He spent his nights in gross misconduct
Lounging in his secret quarters
Mistress, maid and washerwoman
Ousted mothers, secret daughters
Hiding sordid love affairs
His endless line of ******* heirs
***** Henry Dickenbottem
Stalked above the stairs
Lady Mary Dickenbottem
Did her wifely duty
The slenderest of all her kin
Considered quite the beauty
Though in the dusk the candle burned
Alone, she stitched a pallid face
And in the dark she sought its words
To gain her shallow masters grace
Guiding will and fooling eyes
Beseeching of the dead to rise
Demon Mary Dickenbottem
She the pure despise
Master Neville Dickenbottem
Best of all his class
Beaten all the school boys
And bedded every lass
Allies of the strongest kind
And making merry of the weak
The liberties were his to take
And never one he wouldn’t seek
His gaze surveyed that which he ruled
All logical and water cooled
Nasty Neville Dickenbottem
Devil-fire fuelled
Young Jemmima Dickenbottem
Innocent and slight
Playing on the borderline
And darting out of sight
Only ever at her ease
When no one else was close about
And etched upon her baby face
The guilty shadow of a doubt
Always blamed if something broke
And speaking just above a croak
Shy Jemmima Dickenbottem
Tangible as smoke
Old Mother Dickenbottem
Lounging in her chair
Lavender and nicotine
Are fighting for her hair
Beware, at night she ventures forth
So best keep safe your tiny tots
She’ll creep up to the windowpane
And ****** them, sleeping, from their cots
Humming in discordant tones
Nimble fingers, cold as stones
Hungry Mother Dickenbottem
Gnawing on the bones
Dear Major Dickenbottem
Five years in the ground
Hoarded every ha’penny
But frittered every pound
Long he served his king and queen
A gentlemanly thing to do
He left the port with many men
And brought back homeward very few
He died away in foreign lands
Of syphilis and swollen glands
Dead Major Dickenbottem
Killed by wandering hands
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 2:03 PM UTC
Here's the story told to me about our glorious infantry.
Louts,rapscallions,friends battalions
arm in arm and full of glee
marching off to join the infantry.
In the rear lines drinking fine wines,hock,moselle,some burgundy
and some drinking ginseng flavoured tea from some far flung idea of Empire
while only half a mile along the road the whole world was on fire,
were the fat arsed generals with their horses, waiting on their second courses,
crepes and franzipans and to a man they didn't care that the war was waiting there,
'let the ******** wait',they'd say,
after all that was the gentlemanly way.
The bullets striped us left to right and falling into our own falling ***** we'd call for mum and dad
aye lads
aye lads
war is bad
but for the buggers at the rear who never so much as once came near the sound of a gun,
war was fun a chance to socialise,
society is full of lies and leaders they were not.
But death's got their number on his shell,they'll soon be joining us in hell,
so ****** them and sod the lot
were in a spot,we'll not get home,splintered bone and mangled limb and corporal thinks it's still a sin to swear
well ****** him as well,we no longer care.
As we share a final smoke,Johnny tells his favourite joke about three generals and some place called,but I forget the punch line as the time has come for one more bullet,one more gun and silence.
In Croydon,Roydon and North of Watford Gap,families are spoon fed some wholesome krap from drip fed Sergeants,battle,shield and argent,honour King and all the other little things that the senselessness of death brings home.
Let them keep their fields filled full with glory,we know the ***** **** filled story,
war is bad
war is bad
I'm glad that I cant fight no more.
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 9:32 AM UTC
I'm guilty of admiring my works and not others, that's what's silly about my self compassion dance
When the only thing I've got left is the narcissistic klaxon that my self-righteous ambulance horn trances
If it's killing me, Bukowski would be proud, because he loved his liquor, but he loved killing himself more
He'd say, **** your religion! Pour this! This will bring you closer to God!"
It's hard for an atheist to swallow, and to dabble in the tasting of sin,
But Jesus was famous for turning water into wine, with no grapes mashed or thinned
The shield of amaretto is strong and smooth
You can put your cruise control on if you feel amused and soothed
But in darker times it will make your feeling woozy and moved
But **** does it make you feel more like yourself
The you'est you can be, with impeccable speech craft and gentlemanly muse
Helps you pay the dues that you have abused in your passive seasonal attitudes
So what say ye Devine for thou'est darkest temptations, when you've created your own demons, hells, and abrasions
Seems like you're the one holding the power ***** of creation
Ye 'ol Devine ************
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 3:16 PM UTC
I think I realise why gentlemen say,
"ladies first"
And wait at the door and permit women to go in before them.
So that they can get a rear view of their assets!
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 10:48 AM UTC
The manly cowboy
continued his travels
across the land,
of merry ole England,
drinking a little mead,
riding his steed.
Walking along one day
beside his horse,
says to his horse,
a question this way,
says he.
"What's your name?"
"Randall." she replied.
for his steed was a she.
"WHAT did you say?
What the hell kinda name is that?"
"And please pardon me for my language,
your answer took me by surprise."
"For your information kind sir,
i am highly educated
and well brought up.
what did you expect?
some silly name
like Bay
or Susie?
or ,
if i hailed from
your part of the world,
Cochise
or Blaze
or Cimmaron?
Oh no, i know,
you might
have very well
named me
General
Blueberry."
Scratching his head,
the manly cowboy
just looked askew,
completely anew,
at this fine steed.
Randall!
Off they trode,
adventures to be made,
fast becoming fine friends,
as they were
running the roads to the ends.
Many a new sight did they see,
then one day they happened upon
Queen E.
"That's one fine looking six shooter
you have there."
said the great ruler with
the neatly coiffed gray hair.
"May I?" asked she,
her royal hand outstretched.
Happy to oblige,
this woman who
has ruled so long,
seen so much.
Handing her his gun,
so carefully,
he inquired,
"Do you know how one of these things works Ma'm?"
asked he
"Don't be so silly
you manly cowboy.
Of course! "
said she,
With that,
she turned
and shot
every chamber bare,
six apples from
the tops of six heads
of her many heirs.
"Here, come join us."
said she,
"We're out for a ride
to look at the tide."
So the manly cowboy
threw in with the royal
mob for the day.
Riding far and wide
treated to vast
expanses and views,
and the eternal tide.
Having so much fun
shooting and riding,
out in the fresh air,
out in the sun.
At last evening approached
too fast and suddenly.
"What a day i have had,
one to always remember,
to recount over fires
many a coming night."
With that,
he took his leave,
tipped his hat,
and bowed to Queen E
so very gentlemanly.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 12:34 PM UTC
*Did I love you when we first met?
No.
That sounds cold but, truth is often painful.
Was I looking for someone like you?
No.
That is a brutal truth.
Were you persistent?
Yes.
Did you win my heart?
Eventually. With roses? No, with chocolates? No.
You won my heart, by accepting me.
You won me by being you.
I love how our love grew.
I wasn't looking for love, it somehow found me.
Did you write me poems?
No.
Sing me love songs?
No.
Did we have anything in common?
No.
But, love grew, desire bloomed.
We needed each other, we still need and want each other.
Over coffee, Monty Python and a gentlemanly kiss on my cheek
I knew that love was real, it crashed into my heart like a wrecking ball.
Is love like the movies?
Is it ********
It's more like a Wile E Coyote cartoon.
You bought an ACME love boulder!
Meep meep!*
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
I smothered him,
put right out,
that torch he was carrying for me.
He so gentlemanly,
looked out for me
more than I myself.
He worried about
my manic behavior,
backed off.
Or did I push him off,
for fear he was enabling me.
Regardless, that man shook me up.
He had me from,
"Thanks for the ride."
I think he fell for my crazy honesty,
"You sound like a kitten purring when you sleep."
Our random,
let's just drive
adventures.
Talking about life,
while we smoke,
and then talking about death.
We skipped our whole lives,
crammed into one moment,
life then death.
I guess it makes sense,
because we lived in just that moment,
every moment we were together.
Due to this grand illusion,
I experienced
a lifetime of love in 3 weeks.
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
Man, all you ************* start out the same
Oh honey I can appreciate you, is all you claim.
Where’s the chivalry, why can’t y’all be gentlemanly. It’s such a shame
Can’t even walk around without being hounded by one of these ******* lames
Yes I said hounded cause y’all can be bunch of dogs.
If I look good, politely let your glasses fog
Try not to stare, a quick glance, don’t stare maybe you’ll have a chance, that’s fair.
I don’t expect perfect Prince Charming
But the lack of manners is ******* alarming
Ask me how I am, whatever you do dion’t say how you can give it to me
Or how you can make my day.
A nice conversation can go a long way.
Don’t ask me about my man, or why I don’t have one
All I’m gonna say, this would of been nice but now that fool won.
If he was putting it down I wouldn’t be hanging around.
If he asked how my day was
Id be all kisses and hugs
Yes I have a man but his selfishness
******* bugs
I thought I wanted a sweet man
Now I’m more attracted to thugs
At least now Im familiar with the ***** made
I don’t even feel right throwing his mama shade
She treats him like he’s a gift from god
The way she coddles him makes me ******* nod.
I’m done talking about this!
**** is making my sob.
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 9:12 PM UTC
He'd already
slit his wrists
and tried
to hang himself
in the crapper
from the water
pipe system
and now they kept him
in the locked ward
sans belt or laces
and kept him
in sight
of at least
one nurse's sharp eyes
but still he managed
to liberate laces
from some old guy's shoes
while he slept
and had just about
tied one end
of the tied laces
to the pipes
when a nurse
seeing him
through the curtains
raised the alarm
and banged
on the door
and raised
merry hell
but he just set about
his slow task
attempting to put
the narrow noose
about his head
when some big
male nurse
(ape build)
banged open
the door
and pulled him down
sans the laces
and pinned him
to the floor
Benedict smelt
body odour
and cheap aftershave
and still
the ape nurse
held him down
there was that
Beatles' song
on the radio
on the locked ward
HELP
I need somebody
the nurse joined in
the chorus line
Benedict caught sight
unwittingly
of the female nurse's
pale pink *******
as she moved
on over to help
and her perfume
was better
and has she
pressed down
nearer
to give aid
he closed his eyes
gentlemanly
so as not to view
the cleavage
coming his way
can’t have
too much excitement
(he mused darkly)
in one suicide
attempting day.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 3:12 PM UTC
There’s a monster in my gut
I can feel him breathing evermore
Those subtle, green-eyed snarls
From which emits a midnight slick
Of intoxicating oil
Every and each lonesome eve
He rings the dinner bell, reverberating hunger
Through the acid of my walls, ascending up my spine
No matter how my door is braced
His entrance my meal spoils
But don’t misunderstand me now
Although he is a monster
He has gentlemanly hands
That raise his glass for one last speech
Toasting dreams gone black and foiled
Sep 24, 2012
Sep 24, 2012 at 10:35 PM UTC
And she held her breath...
And she rebuilt what was left,
She watched me fall with worried eyes,
She stood as a friend against all I despised,
She never told me about herself,
Or how I could maybe help,
I regret never holding her hand,
I regret not asking her to dance,
It seems as though it cannot be,
But I push eternally,
She is not a prize nor a dressing,
She is happiness, a blessing,
I find myself smiling just to think
Her image carries me to the brink,
Of sheer joy and harmony,
Why couldn't I see,
That when I was so hurting,
When she was all comforting,
That she wanted my abnormality,
Of gentlemanly morality,
Where she could also be happy,
And where I could dote upon her so sappy,
I write with her in mind as Muse,
Unattainable, my mind abused,
Tormented as I speak,
And so I press to seek
The words to describe her justly,
As my heart begins its rusting.
-
She is the dream you wake up in the middle of
And fervently think about so hard that you force yourself
Back to dreamland in hopes to see her again.
She is the sky, that marble blue,
That is more beautiful than anything you've ever seen.
As well as the starry night, her mysteries hold
More questions than Tut's tomb.
She is the sun,
The burning light that so gently touches cheek,
That it's as though you fell asleep on a cloud.
She is the fury of the Divine Comedy,
That even in tragic happenstance,
Everyone might once be content and joyous.
She is the rythm behind my song,
That carries me to a place where I have courage.
She is the wind that swoons and sends the chills
Down my awaiting spine.
The breath that pushes my ribs out and in,
And the blood that feeds my heart to beat.
She is the train that promises a new beginning
In an unfamiliar place, a happy thought indeed,
Especially with the promise of perfection.
She wanders through my mind,
Wanders, and finds so many places to stay.
She is the fuel behind the fire in my head
That flows from eyes, to brain, to pen.
She is my vain and false hope,
That I may one day right my wrong
And take her hand,
And ask to dance,
And caress her cheek,
Run fingers through her hair,
And bless me with the kiss
That I've pondered over for years now ,
and years to come.
Of all the words I write, my Muse,
Most will be for you.
The unattainable goddess,
The moon, so close, so far,
The beauty of a starcast night,
The glimmering of ocean waves,
The eyes that see and know,
That my heart and words are for you alone.
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 3:15 AM UTC
Dear Mr. Ocean -
I believe you waved at me?
I know this is my second letter
Please find within some thoughts
*from me to you
from white to blue*
then return in kind, won't you kindly:
... We may wish for you to always be
a soft sea
because soft, see
means gently, quietly, carefully
remember -
gentlemen wave politely
so just lull this cradled ark
gently
please,
Sir, if you wish to take this further
or *invite me to horizons
to dance*
in the near future
perhaps
(one sunset sky?)
*from crests to deep
from sand to breeze*
my soft Sea - be gentlemanly...
Good tidings,
and all blessings,
current and all that come to be
return to me kindly, won't you please,
Dearest Mr. Ocean -
You may
Write to me.
Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 5:50 AM UTC
The sunshine reflected off your dampened silverish spikes,
Wrap-around glasses hid your cool baby blues,
But I knew they were there.
Your nimble fingers gracefully grasped the frisbee
As we danced in the parking lot after a late day swim.
It was a glorious day, you and I together in the aquamarine blue,
Barely clothed, as close to naked flesh on flesh as we could get in public.
Your eyes ever so gentlemanly kept a gaze upon mine,
But I know you must have noticed my ample ***** a mere inches below,
Black spandex bikini top and glistening with clear droplets.
You never let it show though.
Baby, I am your Sweet Pea.
1/10/2016
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 4:06 PM UTC
You watch me, with that charming Cheshire smile
Corners crinkling
The dimpled pleasure of intelligent company
Holding my breath
Hearing the richness of your baritoned laughter
I am surprised with the lax
Mannerism of your movement
How the hinges no longer creak
Echoing the stillness
Of your once prone psyche
Like magic
Some fantasy
Of child like wonder I am consumed
Consumed by the elegant freedom
Of your words
As if you had never fallen so far into your self
Lost your down the rabbit hole
Playing poker with a madman
No you have seen
Madness
And come back whole
An aged man
Monsters both vanquished and not
Lurking
Inside a placid brown
How daintily you conduct your self
A bear
Civilized
Not a hair out of place
Not a twitch
Not a grumble
Or complaint
As if I was porcelain
Something bound to break
You handle me
Like a crumble cake
This old school tender
This utmost gentlemanly grace
This strangeness I now have to face
No turmoil
No storm for me to brace
I fear I am the one out of place
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 10:23 PM UTC
8/27/16
you flirt with me innocently through a receipt
my last night at here
and for the last three months i tried to justify the casual verbal and physical ****** harassment that was happening before me - to me
because he was easy on the eyes
and he dressed up ***** words to make them sound poetic and pretty
and anything but romantic
nobody had to ask why i was leaving because i didn't tell anyone except for the managers - all but one
the one who is known for this pattern of taking us naïve girls to the beer cooler in the back
to do anything but what was gentlemanly
and i ate up every single line like they were candy hearts
because he made my head blow up like a balloon
he's in there now
smiling like nothing's wrong
and when it's blatantly obvious that everything about what he does is so wrong - even illegal - that's what merits a "what's wrong"
and i don't know why i still love you
because you haven't once attempted any of the things you said you would
you've just pulled me so fearlessly close that i have to get as far away as possible because the "l" word scares me
and you would rather her than i
and you're caged up in the same home as someone you probably have to share a bed with even though you don't want to
you blame it all on the way your parents raised you
and the nightmare your mother had
meanwhile i would've cared for you relentlessly
and i do?
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 3:27 PM UTC
The first time i brought you to a party
i drank so many ***** sodas that
i could only mumble a barley audible
i wanna go home 3 hours later.
You politely excused the both of us
giving the correct amount of goodbyes
or so I'm told, and you wrapped me up
in your fuzzy coat, picked me up like a baby.
I heard that you laid me down in the backseat
of your 1975 navy blue volvo.
Kissed me on the forehead
and turned on the heat.
You put on my favorite band, and played my favorite song
and drove very safe, checking on me
every 3 light posts.
You brought me back to my apartment
and very respectfully stripped me of my clothes
and replaced them with one of your old t-shirts
and a pair of gym shorts.
Laid me down on my bed
and climbed in with me, pulling the covers
over our bodies. You wrapped you arms
around my drunken skeleton
kissed my shoulder and slept.
But really what happened
was i drank so many ***** sodas
that i didn't see you sneak off with the nymphish
looking redhead. So many vodkas
that i could dream out a gentlemanly situation
and enough alcohol that you could take credit.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 3:35 PM UTC
I just trust you
My gut says it's okay
This all feels....
genuinely okay
I'm still in a state of shock
you're such a conundrum
all at once gentlemanly and crass
lovely and dangerous
Everything you do
leaves me in a state of amazement
You're everything I've ever looked for
trite I know
Your reputation
should leave me terrified
quaking in my shearling boots
It doesn't
You calm me down
Leave me bubbly like champagne
Your body curled around mine
Feels safe
You feel like safety
Jan 11, 2011
Jan 11, 2011 at 10:52 AM UTC
At first she thought it cute
that he would call a dozen times:
His dating style was quite attentive,
gentlemanly, and refined.
It got a bit annoying when
he’d question her at length;
but she wasn’t getting younger
so she agreed to set the date.
At work it was disrupting
that he called so many times
thankfully, both her employers
were of the understanding kind.
After their first child was born
she thought he would behave;
Instead he acted helpless
and abused her like a slave.
In the darkest moments of her life,
he’d seem to disappear;
She buried parents, by herself,
A time he should be there.
His jealous was crushing.
His conversation was inane.
He took the air out of the room
with his selfish, childish games.
So, while at a cocktail party,
a handsome stranger asked her name.
She wanted to dance slow with him,
The moth approached the flames.
Feb 12, 2012
Feb 12, 2012 at 9:47 AM UTC
One thing they don't tell you when your older is how suppressed childhood memories will effect your life in small and big ways.
"I just haven't found the right guy," you think.
They don't tell you that once the two of you make it official, you'll leave within a week.
They don't tell you how once you kiss him, you can't even look him in the eyes anymore.
They don't tell you the gentlemanly things make you uncomfortable..
You'd rather freeze than let him give you his jacket.
You'd rather walk to your front door alone.
You'd rather open the doors yourself.
They don't tell you how his ***** hands will stop you from loving any boy.
They don't tell you that your father took your innocence at age 3,
but they sure as hell won't let you remember it.
Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 12:26 AM UTC