"inherence" poems
When next you see me travel
Do not ask if I will stay
I've not the time for talking
You'll not get the time of day
My time, my dear, is money
With such worth, I'd nary trust her
My words, you'll heed, are golden
Your two cents, mere bronze, lack luster
Fit the bill, you do not
Of cases I will juggle
A blind man could see with either eye
Pettiness is your struggle
Complaints of yours, I'll not hear one
For requests, I lack forbearance
Ask a favor, don't you try
Charity's beyond my inherence
Those paws you clinch, you'll also wash
Dare you raise a fist to me
Your filth exudes; nay, it disgusts
Mealworms out-shine thee
So step off, peasant, you've done enough
Of this wasting of my breath
Be gone now, & clear of sight
Lest thou wish for their own death
"Your majesty" I shall be addressed
No more else should such **** say
And when next you see me travel
Do not ask if I will stay
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 12:14 AM UTC
It is an acquaintance with space --
The placement of surroundings
In relation to yourself.
Wooden floor; feet upon the floor;
Exactly forty-three steps
To your bedroom door, no more.
Reliable inherence in presence;
Learning your every last line.
The distinctions that separate
Fade, melt away -- and what remains:
Limbs intertwined; hands which align
Perfectly with mine.
There is a certain comfort,
Felt yet undefined:
Breath on skin; indistinguishable
Where you stop and I begin
In our non-empty silence.
When the lights go off,
There is unquestioned reassurance --
A sense of home in knowing
That even when blanketed in blackest night,
I know where to find your lips
In the dark.
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 10:39 AM UTC
pardon my lackluster appearance
and my abrupt inherence
but I heard this is what life is like
and i urn for a soupçon
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 9:34 PM UTC