Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
SG Holter Aug 2014
For Petal Pie and Louise.*

My alarm is a piece of music that
Reminds me of when I awoke
With my mouth on a woman's

Naked shoulder, last.
I've found the right song to differ
Night from day.

I'll start there and
Run with anything, smiling.  
I've been serious enough.

So begins my day. There is no
Garment between my bed and
My bathroom. If the night

Was warm, I'll glimmer like a
Twillit vampire (a thousand diamonds...)
If it was not, I move through the room

Like your regular, hairy
Neanderthal.
I walk showerwards as I walked

Into this world. Without
All. The mirror says: "You could
Have lifted more,"
while also

Saying: "...many have lifted
Less..."
I care less for that  
Than warm water bringing every

Pore of my body from
"I am an unrideable horse," to
"This is my machine. This is my

Only vessel. I will row this ship
Like I row towards the only star
I care to maneuver to;

Shining as such: It is a woman's
World. It wants you; like flowers  
Want water.
"


Thank you. I know that guy in the
Mirror. He's been gone for
A while.
First, Tom Cochran, and next, Rascal Flatts,
sang that
     Life is a Highway
and that's partially true if
you're willing to consider that
     coasting is not an option
that you rarely have the opportunity
to drive hundreds of miles without
rubberneckers or blue Q-Tips driving
     forty in a sixty-five
to drive from Napa to San Diego without
stopping for mixed nuts and a frozen coffee
     and Smartfood
to drive with movie-like abandon without
the Thelma & Louise slo-mo sending you
     careening toward the crevasse
Life is a highway riddled, web-like, with
unexpected off-ramps and
unforeseen on-ramps and
inconvenient detours that take you places
     you never dreamed you'd go
          you never thought you'd end up
but there are
     rest stops and
     diners and
     fruit stands offering organic sunshine
and there are
     flat tires and
     empty tanks and
     road crews repaving your path in 104 degree heat
and there are
     national parks and
     natural wonders and
     the world's largest frying pan
      the world's largest ball of twine
       the world's crookedest road
        the world's newest you
Your life is a highway that is made of
     choices
which lead you on your own
Choose-Your-Own-Adventure
with epic battles for good and evil and
pots of gold at the end of sprinkler-rainbows and
endless hints that
     YOU MAY ALREADY BE A WINNER!!!
Your life is a highway and
     if you miss your off-ramp
accept your new path
           . . . because there's no going back and
     if you miss your on-ramp
enjoy the scenery and the cows and the Texas Stop-Signs
           . . . because you never know when you'll
see them again
Your life is a highway and
     this is your off-ramp, so
take it with
          your eyes open to wonder
          your heart open to magic
          your life open to change
               because that is you evolving
Honor the view in your rearview mirror as you
keep your eyes on the horizon and
     with joy
      with fear
       with electric anticipation
Take your exit!
oguh stanley Dec 2016
We met as strangers; as two individuals with unfamiliar face,
We cross path with fate at the right time and at the right place.
Our path crosses just once and you seem far from leaving the corridor of my mind,
Never have I seen a radiant beauty like yours; to think you almost got my eyes blind.
You melted the wall surrounding my lonely heart at the instant sight of you,
Leaving one question racing through my mind; “How can a human be this beautiful”?
To see my very own eyes attendant as you walk pass me down the hallway,
A sight so adorable; a memory that never seize to linger at the template of my thought every day.
Can’t seem to forget how your feet glide the floor with much elegance than I can ever think of,
Even angels don’t have such walk; just not that graceful enough.
Don’t get me talking about your breathtaking smile; if only it powers were real,
Only it has the potency of pulling a bullet out of it stray.
And your inexhaustible beauty; that which the sun glows in it radiance,
Our own very own miracle on the galaxy of existence.
Am still in ecstasy ever since our glance transversely cutting the millisecond of time; that for me is our very own gravity,
That pulls us towards love and the slice of its insanity.
Same insanity that got my pen dancing in congruence to what my heart truly feels,
Racing to tell how I feel for you with the tip drop of the ink it bleeds.
It tells a fairy tale of love found in first light,
That greeted the rods and cones of my eyes in first sight.
Never have I felt this fabulous feeling of love for anyone not even in all of my youthfulness,
It still a thing of wonder how you turn my whole universe around with your meticulous tenderness.
Never knew how fast love can grow; never knew it burns like a wide fire,
Until you miss stranger became my forever wanting desire.
You change my definition of time as forever feels like seconds in your presence,
If only you would know life has no form and void in your absence.
How can I get you to understand this that everything around me losses its mystery when am with you,
Am not trying to complete the rhymes here but for real bliss in its purified state can be seen through your eyes in only one view.
In my own marvel picture you are my Mary Jane,
Of course am your superman and you; my Louise lane.
And together we will create our own very world; just you and me,
Cos baby our love is forever; always has been and always will be.
Where Shelter Jun 2023
<6:36 AM>


~for Joanne Louise Veronika~

patches of light, snatches of sleep,
cumulative tallies of every 24 hour arrhythmia,
detect heart alarms ringing, watch warnings screeching beeping

who cares!

new commitment, self imposed!

greet the early ones with sooth and java,
a combination, “all across the nation,”
ease them in from sleeply lyrical dreams,
to a clear sky, renew anew, bay waters
running new tide fast, tiny tendrils of water points,
etch-a-sketch paths to a calm souls restoration

the smoke haze bad dream departed,
sun rays warmth for the invisible innards,
waves look like the EKG of human at peace,
resting heart rate steady and rhythmically sweet

and I laugh at myself, preposterous!
this is my secret path to restoration,
please laugh at me, join the raucous joy
of not-taking-yourself too seriously,
meaning of a new light, fresh waters,
of an old friend, the same diurnal perspective,
a new alphabet that spells but a singular duality,
a two-word~poem of
meditative perfection:

calm sheltering
Sat Jun 10
Silver Beach, S.I.
(1674.)


I have desired, and I have been desired;
  But now the days are over of desire,
  Now dust and dying embers mock my fire;
Where is the hire for which my life was hired?
  Oh vanity of vanities, desire!

Longing and love, pangs of a perished pleasure,
  Longing and love, a disenkindled fire,
  And memory a bottomless gulf of mire,
And love a fount of tears outrunning measure;
  Oh vanity of vanities, desire!

Now from my heart, love's deathbed, trickles, trickles,
  Drop by drop slowly, drop by drop of fire,
  The dross of life, of love, of spent desire;
Alas, my rose of life gone all to prickles,--
  Oh vanity of vanities, desire!

Oh vanity of vanities, desire;
  Stunting my hope which might have strained up higher,
  Turning my garden plot to barren mire;
Oh death-struck love, oh disenkindled fire,
  Oh vanity of vanities, desire!
Doug Potter Aug 2016
There are days I know I am alive
only because I feel the weight on my
feet as I rise to have a new day accept me.
It  is when I read  poems of Louise Gluck or
Sharon Olds that I realize I am merely one half

living.
Francie Lynch Jan 2018
I've written so many,
Some  grandiose, some terse,
And published them here,
To express and converse.
But the most pretentious of all
You've read or passed over,
Is  The Invisible Poem,
Subtitled, Blank Verse.
Some gave it their blessings,
Some cried foul, and some cursed.
Isn't brevity the soul of wit; (Shakespeare)
Writing is 1% inspiration, 99% elimination; (Louise Brooks)
To write good poems is the secret of brevity; (Dejan Stojanovic)
So,
Be sincere. Be brief. Be seated. (FDR)
Take it as is,
For better or worse.
I'm still having fun with this one.
Star Gazer Oct 2016
"Dave?"
My stomach was shaking, almost churning to every single beat. Dumf. Dumf.
I remembered that day clearly, the 21st of January 1995.
My heart kept racing on but I still didn't know why it was so unsettling.

Most mornings, I had awoken to the sight of the ever so handsome boy-toy of mine, 'Dave'. This morning it wasn't the same, when I say it wasn't the same, it was like I was in a parallel universe kind of ****...'not the same'.

Most times we were attached, not in a 'meet you at the middle of the slice of pizza' kind but the literal kind. I haven't gone a night without sitting on the other side of the toilet door or as Dave liked to call it "Dear I'm just painting the porcelain because white is just way too plain", it was cute the first forty times but it still grew old quick.

The clock had turned its short hand to 9 and that was all that mattered to me in that moment. It was 9am: breakfast time. I didn't smell Dave's pancakes, I didn't hear the sizzling of frying pans or the clanging of things... I don't cook much, if not at all; so I wasn't really sure what Dave was doing but I knew it had a lot of clangs and dings.

My day was invaded by a little bit of rain, the rain pattering against the windows used to be what Dave and I loved. When it rained, it meant we could just stay inside and enjoy each others company.

Time passed differently
It always passed differently...
I decided to sleep most of the day away until Dave came back the next day because he always did.

__________________­______
25th June 2075

"Dave?" My stomach was churning to every single beat. Two women enter both dressed in some ridiculous halloween costume. "I just woke up"

"Yes you did", the blonde hair woman said to me.

"Dave?" I called out again.

This time the other one decided to open their mouth, "Ms Louise, there hasn't been a Dave for a long time. You haven't been taking your medication have you ma'am?"
_________________­_______
26th June 2075

"Dave?"...

*Time passed differently.It had always passed differently...
[In another world where relationships between people are represented by visible tethers you wake up one morning to find yours undone.]
Swollen bellies and bruised hips,
Rolling into the celestial waves
Of black velvet and diamond eyes.
We are transported away to dream.

Dancing through the poppy fields,
I find metallic harmony,
Played upon the strings of copper.
The curls of ivory trapping fingers.

The Mother of Pearl, whispering,
Says in sweet melodic tone,
"A rabbit is a curious, but timid man,
Formed to teach a lesson to the proud."

She then quixotically bated her lashes,
Took a drag of her scent and blew,
The billows of smoke waved across
And the sky melted to dripping words.
Robert Jaensch Dec 2016
One minute moment of I’m OK
A razors edge of lingering doubt
A use by date written for me
This attempt will be the last
Wondering of the peel and reveal
Resilience, bouncing back again
I will know for sure this time around
No more talk of Thelma and Louise
I will exit stage right, walk away
Unmoved by breath of your words
Travel together spinnaker set
Or gybe away, set our own course

The Tragic True LOVE Story of Blanche Monnier

Just for falling in LOVE
With a commoner
Blanche Monnier was kept in attic
For 25 years
Blanche's True LOVE survived


The year was 1876

In midst of the Third Republic period in France
When the historical power struggle of royalist ******* and republican radicals were discussed in bourgeois socialites
That's the time when
In a small place called Poitiers
Four hours away from Paris
There lived:
Madam Louise Monnier
Wealthy and prominent
Member of CLASS society
Known in Parisian high society
For their charitable works
Who had received many community awards too

With her son
Marcel Monnier
A brilliant student
And a prominent lawyer
Well respected in Paris

And her daughter
Blanche
(Marcel's sister)
Twenty Five years old
Beautiful beyond words
Intelligent
Very gentle and good natured
A young socialite in rich circles

Lived happily in their
Monnier Estate

It was during this time
Blanche fell in LOVE with a suitor
Let us call him
James
Who lived in her neighborhood
Sadly he was not young
Nor was he from rich aristocrat family
He was elderly man,
Basically a commoner
And an unsuccessful penniless lawyer

Madam Louise Monnier - disapproved
Of such alliances for her daughter Blanche and
Insisted Blanche to marry a more suitable man
Of her own age, class and status

But in passion of her LOVE -
Blanche profusely disagreed
And Madame Monnier got angry
They quarreled and argued
One day Madame Monnier locked Blanche
In a dungeon attic ordering
"Until you would agree - you are imprisoned"

Years passed
But Blanche was stubborn
So much in deep LOVE with James
She did not relent to her Mother's wishes

So the story goes....
Nine years passed

On this side James - Blanche's suitor
The beau too died in 1885

It is said that
Blanche's brother Marcel apposed his mother
To at least set Blanche FREE now
But Madam Louise Monnier had absolute
Stronghold and control over the family
Thus Marcel aboded to his mother's decree
And Blanche was kept locked still after

In the eyes of society
Beautiful young Blanche had simply disappeared
Without a clue

Madame Monnier and Marcel mourned
In front of everyone
Stating Blanche ran away
And continued to live their lives
As normal as those rich aristocrat families live

No one gave much thought to this
Everyone went about their life
As if nothing had happened

With time - they say
Blanche was forgotten
From everyone's memory

For over 25 years,
Blanche remained in a attic dungeon
Tied to her bed
Waiting for her LOVE
To LOVE, to be LOVED by JAMES
But her mother Madam Louise,
And her brother Marcel
With their two servants
No one helped her to be FREE

Blanched was chained in a dark attic room
She was accompanied by rats and lice
Day after day
Living in dirt and darkness
Alone, isolated, in solitude
Blanche became insane
Drown in her own tears and
In company of
Rats, bugs and pests...
And rotten odor

Rumors say that it was one of the female servants
Who slipped the secret of
Monnier Estate's beautiful daughter Blanche
To her boyfriend
Who immediately wrote a letter to
The Attorney General

In 1901,
Attorney General of Paris
Received an anonymous note
Handwritten and unsigned

The content were disturbing
And The Attorney General
Sent his police team to investigate
The Police arrived to search Monnier Estate

At first,
Police couldn't find anything unusual
Until they came across strange odor
Coming from upper floors

When the Police went upstairs
Madam Louise Monnier sat
On the ground floor living hall
Calmly reading a book

When the Police approached
The attic room
From where the odor was coming
They saw that the room was padlocked

Realizing something amiss
Police smashed the lock and
Broke open the room

The horrors lay within

A pitch dark room
With only one window
Shut closed with black curtains

The stench of room was so over whelming
That immediately the window was broke open

With the light coming in
The police realized that the bad odor
Was because of rotting food
That littered all over the floor

And in a corner - there was a bed
Where an emaciated women was chained

She was our Blanche Monnier
Fifty years old now
Tied to the bed
It was over two decades
She had not even seen the sun
And she had lived
In her own excrements

That beauty of youth
That youthful LOVELY being
A divine, kind, pure hearted girl
Did not even resembled like a human

She was naked
Chained like animals to the bed
Lying on a straw mattress

She was completely
Frightened and delirious

She weighed just 50 pounds (22 kilograms)

Police covered Blanche in a white sheet
And took her to the hospital
Madam Louise Monnier - and Marcel were arrested
For this atrocious inhumane crime
Of imprisoning and treating Blanche
So badly
For what? -
for a natural act of LOVING

"We can not even comprehend
What a LOVER goes through
When subjected to such punishments"


Blanche was horrendously malnourished
In hospital she was lucid to be rescued and freed
She exclaimed...
"How lovely it is to breathe the fresh air"

When she was informed about James
She could not even remember
The reason for her current state -
Was "LOVE"
Her eyes were hollow, her face was blank

There was public out-cry all over France
It was loud and clear
Public out-raged was brimming
They wanted the mother and brother punished

And Madam Louise Monnier -
Who was seventy years old then
suffering from heart disease
Could not take the shock
Of such societal backlash
For the horrible crime she committed

It is accounted that
Madam Louise Monnier
Died in police custody
15 days after Blanche's rescue
Police say -
Probably of a heart attack

Brother Marcel was imprisoned for 15 months
He confessed of
Not being directly part of the crime
But just acting under pressure of his mother

The whole blame was put on Madam Louise Monnier
Brother Marcel was considered only an accomplice
And thus when Marcel pleaded innocent and sought pardon
He was acquitted and set FREE
Such were the laws of those days

Our LOVER - Blanche Monnier
Had suffered greatly
The mental trauma
Of LOVE longing had
Lasting psychological damage

There after
Blanche lived in a French Sanitarium
Till she died in 1913
Twelve year after she was liberated

People say - that at times
The nursing staff used to hear Blanche
Sing the songs of LOVE

And they used to see Blanche
Talking LOVINGLY with a non-existing person
Most probably that person was "James"
The man she LOVED more than her life

Thus is remembered
The story of Blanche's LOVE

She suffered but never relented
To her mother's wishes
"To forget her LOVER James"

It was impossible to survive for 25 years
Without proper food, light, sun, or any human company
In that tiny dark dungeon attic
But Blanche did miraculously survive
With the hope that one day
She will be FREE
She will meet James
And she will LOVE James
And she will say to James
"My Jamie, see I did truly LOVE YOU"

That's the power of TRUE LOVE
This is a TRUE STORY
Saturday Jones Jun 2014
Jeez Louise, we could be
everything we mean to be,
or seem to be. I need to be
here with you and you with me.

Please Louise, you're leaving me,
you don't know what you mean to me,
or bring to me. I dream to be
all alone with you and me, just we.

These Louise! These fleeting things
always manage to cling to me,
so deep in me. And it hurts to see
you float about so free, no care for me.

Leave Louise...Please stop teasing me.
I wish you could take this history
and misery. Now I seem to see
the things that turned I to we turned
we to me. Just me.
JL Deyarmond Nov 2010
It's 12:25, but she always seems to arrive just three minutes later
A bag and coat under her arm
I wait, watching by the green, rusted radiator
Orange and green recycled
Sometimes not
We check into the room
and head to our old familiar spot
up top
maybe by the window
unless one of us is hungry
then we start to follow the crowd
But we end up back by the window
to avoid the mess and the sounds
So we sit down
and we eat, and we talk
and occasionally I'll get up to look at the clock
because time matters
Especially with Louise because she has to leave
in a matter of time
Je ne sais pas
what she means sometimes
And that's absolutely fine because we don't always need to understand
and that's why I collect so many foreign friends
Because they can only get so close
until they have to leave again
Lunch with Louise is the best time to eat
but I'm always hungry after it ends
Petal pie Apr 2013
I once knew a lass called Louise
Who had a penchant for smelly cheese
She got camembert
Stuck in her hair
And said 'that'll be good for the fleas!'
Samuel Louis Feb 2018
Friend
She hears the quiet whisper of the man paying his respect to lost love
Wiping his eyes
And offering her heart to lend

Caring
Taking him in
Showing love not deserved
But love she was sharing

Weight
was lifted
Singing and dancing!
Sorrow was not his fate

Free
His spirit lifted
And all he can think is...
Thankful enough he can never be
             ...
Thank you
Louise, happy birthday! I am so glad you are in my life! If I am being honest... You are one of the most fantastic people I know, and I am so happy that you are someone I talk to. Originally, I had planned to come see you this weekend and surprise you! Things didn't work out so this is what I am resorting to. I wanted to read you this poem in person, but since I can't I'll settle for this little birthday note. I wrote this a week ago, I hope you like it, and i hope it helps you understand what you mean to me. Without being all weird, I just want to say that i love you. You are one of my best friends and I hope you have a wonderful bday.

-Love Sam
Jonny Angel Sep 2014
Haunted now,
I finally understand
what he meant
when he crooned
about the river.
For there,
I felt Louise’s breath,
just the way he described it.
I floated away &
holding her pretty face,
I learned about love,
the angst,
the pure sadness
of broken dreams.

From time to time,
on these short days,
during these long
lonely nights,
I return,
Drift
Back
Down
to the river,
our kissing-place
& I remember,
how I grew up
in her arms,
& she,
she  
lying under me,
trembling,
grinned
from rosy cheek to rosy cheek.

Thanks Bruce,
for taking me there
in song.
Kenny H Mar 2012
I
Erik went up to the summit
To where a rock he could plummet
The depths of the sea seem bare
A wasteland for Erik to swim

II
Louise went up to the summit
To where a rock she could plummet
Hesitation she stopped to look
Poor Louise was afraid of heights

III
Marko went up to the summit
To where a rock he could plummet
Killing a man with such great haste
Marko he knew the price to pay

IV
Alice went up to the summit
To where a rock she could plummet
Shunned from home she undressed to swim
Who would let ***** Alice come back

V
I too went up to the summit
To where a rock I could plummet
It seems that I have dropped my pen
For I will never write again
ya see dudes on factor we are in the grand final and

the first won eliminated were jess and matt leaving

the battle for the winner of xfactor going down

between louise and cyrus and here is a jingle

louise and cyrus in a battle of wits

who will take the xfactor prize

ya see cyrus really blew the crowd away

and so did louise, oh yeah hey hey

this is the last one for the year

i wonder who will actually win

goodbye jess and matt jess and matt jess and matt

goodbye jess and matt, t’s sad to see you 2 go

but it’s up to cyrus and it’s up to louise

who is the best one to take out the crown

get up get get get get up up up get down

who is the champion of xfactor tonight

and the music is hot and i think loiuse looks groovy

groovy like a fruit smoothie

party party party, right till the end

driving the bullies around the bend

WHO WILL WIN

cyrus or louise

catch ya later dudes, yo duuuude
Angelina Aug 2016
To: Sarah Joyce Crimson*                                                     8th July 1943                                                  

A man in a gray suit has captured my heart, mother
Along with the tie, of course
Surrounding plants would've died
At his gaze and grace

Armored charm and wide toothed smile
His last name could've might as well been poise  
I don't know what it is about him, mother
But his gentle crinkled eyes certainly isn't  

His voice is as flattering as the lullaby you once sang
The tone itself symbolizes warmth and stability
Undiscovered treasure in the midst of all volumes
It is home I feel closest to when I catch a glimpse of it in my ear

I don't know whether to feel astonished or quivered
By all means, that'd be deemed as eerie
But you once said when a man one day turned my cheeks bright pink
It sure could only mean one thing

It is unreliably evident not to notice me blush
It is even more apparent not to notice his blunt stare
Sending chilly shivers down my spinal cords
Activating fondness I'd never in a million years imagine I'd sense

If only you were here to see for yourself
How proud I'd make you, indeed
You said one day I'll be able to marry, mother
Well, this day isn't as far planned as it once seemed  

                                                       ­               *From: Christine Louise Crimson
Amber was an atheist,
she thought the world was dumb as hell.
Britney was a botanist,
who had a fertilizer smell.
Candice was a coroner,
a scary passion for the stiffs.
Diana was a drummer chick,
that knew a few guitar riffs.

Evelyn was evil, man,
all leather suits and chains and whips.
Farrah was a therapist,
got in my brain with swinging hips.
Greta was a gunslinger,
she'd give most anything a shot.
Hannah was a homebody-
shy as hell, but twice as hot.

Iris was an Ivy Leaguer,
thought I was a total fool.
Janice was a juggler,
who liked to play with power tools.
Kimmy taught karate,
who dated me just for the kicks.
Louise was a lyricist,
who wrote about how guys were *****.

Marilyn was mostly mean,
she liked to fight and then make up.
Nancy was so negative,
I had no choice but to break up.
Opal was an occultist,
who liked to gossip with the dead.
Paula was a *******,
that made me pay to come to bed.

Queenie was inquisitive,
the questions were too much to bear.
Rosie was a recluse
who never shaved or brushed her hair.
Sidney was a sinful sort,
with toys and gadgets 'neath the bed.
Tina was a twisted chick,
with thirteen voices in her head.

Ursula was uber-cool,
always on the latest trends.
Vicky was on Vicodin,
and we all know how that one ends.
Wanda was a wanderer,
that left to join a circus troupe.
Xena the exhibitionist
liked to do it on the stoop.

Yolanda was young and fine,
and nearly cost me everything.
Zoey was a Zombie fan,
she got hot when he would sing.
I'd like to say I've settled down,
but since the alphabet is done,
I'm gonna met an Ann or Anita,
and give it all another run.
Simon Soane Apr 2016
There are a lot of important things needed to be happy in life,
that stop the dark rising and save the mind from strife,
like hilarious acts and moments we find funny
and as much as it pains me to say a bit of money
so we can do other fun things like go on a night out,
singing the hours away with a beam and a shout,
or a sweet song that glistens around the head,
or an engrossing book to read in bed,
ordering a take away and gorging can give a thrill
or back to back box sets on a Netflix and chill,
and just as crucial as having a top mate to phone
is having a place that one can call home.
Having an abode to go to when employment is done
or a domain to grab some water to quell the heat of the sun,
a space to collapse when infused with inebriation,
when getting tired of tracks, a warm safe station,
a place to get ready when revving to go out in the mix,
yeah, you were all of the above dear Flat Six.
Yeah, I’ll hold my hands up, you've been a ace place in which to live,
okay you were full of damp and the bathroom wall flimsy enough to give,
and when the verdant Eden outside was chopped down it made me mad
but you were only a short walk from my Mum and Dads.
You had plenty of perks,
fab tree out back and close to work,
a 24 hour garage a stone's throw away,
that sold the ***** at night and day,
you were near a cracking paper shop that had had 2 bottles of wine for six quid a go,
suffice to say, el vino did flow.
Your living room was massive enough to play big with a cat
"always a good time here" etched on your welcome mat.
Under your roof was awesome, you engendered joy with ease,
effortlessly making great, just like the cleanest breeze.
Now although you as a building yourself is a important component in amaze
other factors also make a simply brilliant phase,
Like when friends came round for fun and revelry
after we had left the club just after three,
we'd all pick up the ingredients for a ***** do
and jump, and groove with soothing coo,
the ether resplendent with "I love you!"
finely balanced between boom and cautious,
chatting committed, gabbing voracious,
sunk into fun under your light,
the wonder of spun on Saturday night.
Now, it wasn't just at the weekend when friends came to say okay,
there were some sweet gatherings on a Wednesday,
no women, no, just a range age of men,
it could only be mid week Breadren,
we could be having a conversation about how New York seems most tourable
when a voice pipes up, "by the way bel ami my cousin has cancer and it's incurable."
There could only be one guy who brings such depressing roars
the harbinger of gloom known as Two Doors.
He'll bleat on about how his niece has no womb and is totally barren
and next to him lives a kingpin drug baron
"they are shifting units at a furious pace
and ski in more in more wizz than ******* Scarface."
He'll change the subject in the blink of an eye
and go from talking about love to who's going to die,
he doesn't like most women, thinks they are a squawking flock,
he loves men though, yeah, he really likes ****.
A mate can come out and say sobbing he doesn't want to be with a lass
while Iain does think, "Ross, let me in your ***."
His friend could weep and cry with a whimpering cough
while all Iain thinks, Ross, **** me off!
Never mind Grinder, get on my fleshy old man log."
The third guy Martin is off shooting up in the bog.
Yeah, lots of people talked in your four walls
but you provided the space for those stupendous *****,
you were brill in December, springing in May,
really awesome in September, probs cos that's when Louise came to stay.
You held our pre festival clutter with happy behest
and often covered in bottles on Monday, a big glassy mess,
oh you had everything, simply one of the best.
As I’ve said, Flat Six you as the area were great
But a paramount importance in that was housemate.
You see some people can bond and connect in the hub of a club
but when sharing an address each other up the wrong way they can rub,
although they can go to a gig and have the most divine of laughs
when they abide in the same abode they go together like low ceilings and giraffes,
arguments start over the heating not being turned off
or who hasn’t took the bins out or who’s had some of the others food to scoff,
they bleat that “you shouldn’t have gone out for that night on the *****
And then made noise when you got in as you knew I was trying to snooze!”
or “why did you have that night on the coke, you see more of Charlie than an oompa loompa
and have World War 3 over a borrowed jumper.
So yeah, it's sweet when you find a shared space dweller
and who you think is swell and you get on really well,
as when after a day at the office and you perhaps want to chill alone
when they rap on your door to discuss the day you're glad their home,
skating through conversations with the p of pace
raucous at pontificating and waiting in the listen space,
bringing the talk with dazzling natter,
singeing the fork with frazzling chatter
to ensure the words cooked go down warm,
go down a treat, go down a storm,
discussing that wowing tomorrow is pay day thrill
and who was to blame for the initial breakup of Ross and Rachel,
top gabbing, it was brill!
Someone who when the elephant in the room is sniff
you both realise it quick and score in a jiff!
And never entertain the waste that is a tiff,
not for us the sign of a rift
simply super, a kind of bliss,
see I love Joe Flat Six, I love him to bits!
Although, like you  and your constant mould
he wasn't perfect (like everyone), if the truth be told,
you see if you follow all the biblical teachings you've been taught
you'd think he would have thought,
"I can help myself to the dental care and washing hygiene, it don't matter that I haven't bought,
I can use what I deem, Si's not the selfish sort,
he'd give me the last drop of his shower gel if he could,
he defiantly would,
so do unto others as they'd do unto me
and as I’ve got this human cleaning fluid for free
I’ll leave him some plentiful dollops on the side so he can bathe in a Lynx Africa infused sea
and I can leave some mouth polish laid in the shape of a cleansing leaf
so he can keep the fillings to zero in his teeth
then I can take the rest as I’ve been true to my sacred beliefs."
Yeah, that's what he could have done.
Instead he grew horns and committed a Luciferian act
and thought "I'm taking all of that!",
Sartini, you Devilish ****.
Nar, I bet you didn't even think that at all,
you were too busy imagining going out and having a ball,
beautifully bouncing off every wall,
riding the waves of Wet Dreams with total aplomb,
spinning tunes while high fiving Tom,
cool as ice cream and hot to trot
country hopping and swigging spirits by the tot,
at least Shannon seems to have diminished, that ****** robot!
she had more wires than C3PO's thighs
and glazed over R2D2 eyes
fair dos you digged her metallic allure
but did you really want to make love with the Terminator?
Ahh but who cares about a bit of shower gel and your cyborg fawning
it was great singing along as the day was dawning
And obvs I know every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end
But it’s only natural to miss living with one of your best friends.
So far be it from me to encourage your narcissistic gaze
but Joe you can add top housemate to your list of fortes!
So dear Flat Six to summarise
I’ll miss sitting out your back in summer rise
looking through your big tree with my eyes
at the Saturday sun azure blue skies,
I’ll miss that whatever there is to unfold
won’t happen over your threshold,
I’ll miss coming in your space with loads of beer
And chill with tunes while mates appear,
I’ll miss the midnight moving across your floor,
miss my key going in your door,
miss that it’s not your clock telling my time
miss that you’re not mine when I say “who wants to go mine?”
But now you’ll always be more than an address and a collection of bricks
I’ll always love you,
dear Flat Six!
Leah Ward Nov 2012
My house will be filled with the things that I love;
Goldfish, dandelions,
Green sofas, Greek mythology,
Books of psychology.
Books. Lots of books with lots of words.
Multiple copies of the really good books too.
All stacked to the ceiling
on bookshelves adequate to
The height of the house
All equivalent to
My love of the place I’ll call home.
A sock monkey here or there,
pillows and throw blankets.
Pictures of Lake Louise, and a souvenir
If I’m ever lucky enough to go there.
I will print poetry, frame it, put it on my walls.
My walls will be yellow gray and blue,
I will have a boombox with speakers that go BOOM
(but at night it will sing me to sleep
with many sweet lullabies).
And it’s music will fade to the sound of voices
Voices of people I love and admire
Who can walk through the door,
of the place I aspire
To make my own,
To share and not waste
With the precious presence of others
And their ideas
And hopes and dreams
So if you aren't a thing I love,
You have to leave.
I’ll probably have a lot of lamps too.
Paul Hardwick Mar 2012
For my dear friend Louise.
Lou, it has been ages.
Since I talked with you.

Straight in like the friend’s we are.
And relaxes me in way’s that no others do.
I have seen little old lady’s say.

Well I do de clair.
Look at that happy frog over there.
Falling off that lilly pad.

Is he smilling?
How strange is that! !  !   !    !    !      !        !

Regards Just this wet frog!
Scarlet McCall Jun 2017
I don’t care if you steal a quick look,
when you think I can’t see it.
As long as it’s furtive, it’s by the book.
A man looks at a woman;
it’s only human.
But when you stare
at my big “girls”, then leer in my face--
you’re a disgrace.
I’m not putting up with your ******.
The next time it happens,
I’m going Thelma and Louise.
I'm not really packing.
Mike Essig Jun 2015
Dear Louise,

At 2:30 AM after
two hours of sleep
I feel I am looking
through a keyhole
and reality
is sneaking up
from behind
to give me
a much needed
kick in the *****.
Somehow, I have fallen
into a hole so deep
I can't climb out.
The arena of death
destroys the illusion
of safety and
at some point
the naked heart
cannot recover.
Everything seems
after the fact.
Everything is
after the fact.
You can't change
anything after
a split second ago.
I feel a curious desire
to do the right thing,
but there are not
enough right things
to go around.
Is life accessible?
Is life inaccessible?
I have the curious urge
to puke out forty years
of my life's garbage.
Maybe I'll change my name
to Antonio or Ivan,
move to Hiroshima or Dachau
and see the world
through the binocular
but astigmatic
eyes of a tiger.
If you asked me
to describe someone
I really know,
I'd be very hard put.
As a kid I wanted
to be a writer.
I wasn't sure
what that meant;
early ideals can **** you
but you probably
deserve it.
I know I am wrapped
so tight that if
I spring a leak
I'll sink in a day.
Could there be a way
to fence my life in
and keep the world out?
I am consumed
by fatuous sincerity.
I'd write down
all the options
int this case
but I loathe
the **** fascism of lists.
My hormones seem
to be deliquescing
into a viscous pâté
of late life protoplasm.
They belong on a shelf,
not in your pants.
I guess if no one else
will make use of me,
I'll have to make use
of myself.
This is a difficult task.
My life has been
a long preparation
for something that
probably won't occur.
For too long I have
defied almost everything.
A strong man would simply
drink himself to death,
but I'm not that strong.
Many of my sins of omission
are beginning to bother me.
Perhaps the only real use
for today is today.
Maybe I need to get
back to the basics:
eating, ******* and dying.
How to maintain
my equilibrium in the face
of incomprehension?
Waking up is a kind of homage.
Or could it be that
I don't need to change?
I'm just this.
Anyway, it's 2:30 AM
on a long night
in a strange life.
I'd better go.
Dawn may creep up
and release the
stench of coffins.
Louise, if you get this note
and understand it
please let me know
because I don't.

Sincerely,

Mikey
Someone put a stamp on this and mail it. Please.
onlylovepoetry Sep 2017
a plain poem (the first time I came in you)*

a plain poem, light and effervescent, a flim-flan tasting,
plein de absurde rimes, full of nonsensical rhymes,
a lattice of criss crossing pastry sugary lines, the ones,
cannot, struggle to deduce, induce, reduce
from my constipated vocabulary

oh well
~
the first time I came in you,
entered, bidden welcome,
suffused a bridge between
the party of the first part,
the party of the second part,
sugar lightness airy nonsense,
two spirits dancing the singular
pas de deux of their finite lives,
a performance unbeatable,
unrepeatable,
lost to the perfection annals

Shockingly, Surprisingly, Summarily,
did not compose an ode,
don't mine a new vein of ore,
even write a plain poe poem

as best can recall,
at the candle melting of the
sealing wax of the deal,
gave an honest speech,
instantly falling fast asleep
with nary a grunted word

ever since l,
cannot write of plain love plainly,
so she makes me pay with a
new living elegant elegy daily,
a quatrain, what a pain,
this iambic panting meter
love poem writing

jeez louise,
how I wish could write of
roses red and violets blue,
get back to sleep,
oh well then,
back to work

got to make those sad moans,
hers, go away,
so please excuse me

near ten years later,
still paying the dues of the
initializing error of my way

she rumbles-mumbles in her
pre-awakening dream state,
so please excuse, got to go, think up
some implicated complicated  
verses to soothe away
her simple poorly hidden anxieties

you see,
I am happy paying
on and on,
writing like the devil furious,
she is stirring, coffee soon,
cafe au lait
if you get my meaning,
but still cannot beat,
repeat, re-alive
that simple plain living poem notated,
when first I came in her*


<•;)

9/24/17 6:49am ~7:17am
Paul d'Aubin Dec 2016
Des Cassandres incomprises ?


Elle maudissait encor le baiser refusé à celui qui aurait pu devenir son amant. Le bel et fier Apollon s’était vengé de son refus, en lui soufflant sur la bouche, afin que le don de divination, déjà donné, soit réduit à néant, et qu’elle ne fut jamais crue. Cruel sort qui la condamnait à connaître le futur, en restant incomprise aux yeux de toutes et de tous, parmi celles et ceux qu’elle chérissait, et auxquels elle voulait épargner le malheur. Aussi lorsque tu vis naître ton frère Pâris, tu informas ta mère des sombres présages que son devenir présentait pour la famille royale. Hélas, mal avisés, Priam et Hécube, après l’avoir éloigné finirent par lui donner une ambassade à Sparte. Ou il fut séduit et enleva Hélène la si belle. Puis vint ce jour funeste, quand tu vis, le port de Troie presque masqué par des milliers de voiles rouges, et autant de vaisseaux munis d’éperons. Tu ressentis, une peur panique, celle, de la mort, de toutes celles et ceux que tu aimais, et tu versas des larmes salées pour tous ces jeunes hommes qui allaient perdre la vie, dans des combats menés autours des remparts. Avant que les chevaux géants de bois, funestes, dont personne ne te crut pour le danger annoncé entrèrent dans la ville, alors que l’armée Achéenne faisait mine de se retirer. C’est ****, dans la nuit, qu’à la lueur des torches, les guerriers, sortirent des flancs des chevaux géants et jaillirent en hurlant, pour porter le malheur dans ta chère Troie. Glacée d’émotion et d’épouvante tu te réfugias auprès de l’autel sacre d’Athéna, Pour préserver ton corps gracieux des outrages de l’ennemi. Mais c’était sans compter sur Ajax le furieux, qui faisant fi de la protection sacrée que t’offrait le temple, te pris malgré tes cris et tes pleurs, déchira ta blanche tunique, te traina par les cheveux sur l’autel. Et violenta ton corps avec plus de brutalité que de désir. Tu aurais voulu mourir, mais Athéna, elle-même, insultée, comme Déesse, dans son propre temple, ne le voulut point. C’est le roi Agamemnon, qui te trouva déflorée, prostrée et en larmes, et te fit prisonnière, et te gardant en vie, pris la décision de te ramener à Mycènes. Tu le mis en garde contre la jalousie qu’allait éprouver sa femme, Clytemnestre Mais ce fut vain, et toi, déshonorée et prisonnière tu ne voulais plus vivre. Tu tendis ta gorge à cette jalouse implacable, peu après avoir débarqué Et son geste de mort fut ton soulagement, oh, toi devineresse, jamais crue.
Après Cassandre la Troyenne, il y eut d’autres fameuses Cassandre. Louise Michel, institutrice porta sa flamme aux Communards, Et faite prisonnière réclama une mort qu’on n’osa pas lui donner. Transformant sa peine de déportation en Nouvelle Calédonie, Ou elle refusa de faire chorus contre les canaques. Enfin libérée elle soutint ses sœurs et frères, les prolétaires, et brandit le drapeau noir des Libertaire, qui faisait si peur. Cette Femme admirable resta souvent incomprise, dans ses combats et sa soif d’un Monde plus humain. Cette solitude aussi doit être le sceau des Cassandre. De l’autre côté du Rhin, et même, en Pologne a Zamość, naquit une nouvelle Cassandre. Fière comme un aigle, pensive comme une colombe, elle avait pour prénom Rosa, mais pas de celles avec épines, Son nom était Luxemburg, et c’était vraiment un être de lumières. Une pensée étincelante, une volonté de duchesse Espagnole, et une lucidité aussi grande que les feux de ses passions. Rosa lutta, dès le début contre la guerre et la capitulation des esprits, devant ces monstres d’acier, de feu et de gaz moutarde. Qui allaient ravager l’Europe en fauchant des millions de vies. Mais dans cet empire si discipliné, elle fut emprisonnée, pour lui faire expier son opposition à cette guerre fratricide, et afin que les consciences restassent bien éteintes. Mais son courage était sans borne avec son amant Leo Jogiches, Et la force de conviction de Karl Liebknecht. Ayant passé la majeure partie de la guerre, emprisonnée, elle étudiait sans répit et faisait parvenir des articles, pour ses amis de la « ligue Spartacus ». Elle défendait la Liberté, comme le vrai diamant du socialisme à venir. Mais les États-majors militaires et politiques la haïssaient. Libérée par la chute du kaiser, elle reprit sa passion, de journaliste à la plume de feu à la «Rote Fahne.» Elle s’efforçait d’éclairer des masses trompées par des bergers par trop intéressés, timorés et menteurs. Elle rejetait aussi toute illusion de putsch et de violence armée. Hélas, elle ne fut pas écoutée par les irréfléchis à la parole haute, ni par les têtes remplies de vent et encor imprégnèes par les usages récents de tant de violences inoculées durant et par ces années de guerre et de tueries. Ces hâtifs et ces simplistes au verbe haut déclenchèrent l’émeute dans Berlin, qui allait devenir leur commun linceul. Elle décida cependant de ne pas se désolidariser des révoltés, D’ailleurs arrête-on sans digue un torrent furieux ? Rosa, refusa d’ajouter l’enjeu de sa survie et sa propre peur à la désorientation générale de ses camarades. Consciente de l’échec, Rosa écrivit son dernier article sur : « L’ordre règne à Berlin, L’ordre règne à Varsovie », « l’ordre règne à Paris », « l’ordre règne à Berlin ». Tous les demi-siècles, les gardiens de « l’ordre », lancent ainsi dans un des foyers de la lutte mondiale leurs bulletins de victoire Et ces « vainqueurs » qui exultent ne s’aperçoivent pas qu’un « ordre», qui a besoin d’être maintenu périodiquement par de sanglantes hécatombes, va inéluctablement à sa perte.» Puis Rosa, rentra chez elle, sans prendre de précaution ni se cacher vraiment. Nourrissait-elle quelconque illusion sur son ennemi, Gustav Noske? Lequel revendiqua, pour lui-même, le douteux honneur d’avoir tenu le rôle d’un « chien sanglant » Ou avait-elle, plutôt du mal à regarder l’horreur de la haine et les tréfonds de la barbarie ? Amenée par les soldats des corps francs elle fut interrogée et se tut. Puis, ce beau front pensif et cette tête bouillonnante d'avenirs reçut de violents coups de crosse, avant que les barbares ne lui tirent une balle dans la tête,
et ne la jettent inanimée dans le canal.
Une Cassandre de plus était victime de la froide cruauté,
et des peurs qu'inspiraient la création d'une société nouvelle.
Mais l'esprit des Cassandre survit dans les braises de la lucidité
Aujourd'hui, nous avons probablement des Cassandre parmi nous,
dans les braises de la vérité en marche, qu’il nous faut oser écouter en les aidant à dessiller nos yeux encore clos. dont l’esprit s’est forgé.

Paul Arrighi.
Oliver Philip Jan 2019
A series of  Acrostic poems noting the healing properties of the crystals to the Zodiacal signs. .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Capricorn  ♑️  December 23-January 20.
~~~~~~~~
Capricornian don’t mind me. I can’t live as you.
As you have the highest of standards always.
Peridot,Garnets, Agate or Turquoise to wear
Ruby’s grace a  beautiful young maidens hair.
I see the jewels in your eyes when you smile
Carnelian stones or Malachite for soul healing
Or Jet ,Smokey Quartz or shiny Black Onyx.
Red Garnets,Blue Aragonite,Green Tourmaline
Nonsuch is the birth symbol ,graceful as thee
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aquarius ♒️  January 21 -February 19
~~~~~~~
Aquarius the symbolism for the water carrier.
Quite an important member of our community
Under spells by an association of the heart
Aquarian crystals are Garnets and Amethyst
Rainbow moonstone, Labradorite, Magnetite
I would buy thee Lithium Quartz ,Moss agate.
Under your care placing Crysoprase n Cryolite
Some Rainforest Jasper for love of this lady.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pisces ♓️  February 20 - March 20
~~~~~
Pisces are healed by birthstones of Amethyst
In tune also with Turquoise,Aquamarine,Amber
Sapphires,Sunstones,Smithsonite, Labradorite
Chrysoprase of green, Ocean Jasper, Flurite
Especially Bluelace Agate,Rainbow Moonstone
Stones Charolite, Calcite,Ametrine,Bloodstone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aries ♈️  March 21 -April 20
~~~~
Aries children tackle life head on.
Ruby,Diamond,Amethyst and bloodstone
I know she’s into Aquamarine and Tourmaline
Especially pink, Dravite aka Tourmaline brown
Stellerite, Sardonyx , Citrine, Kunzite n Axinite
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taurus ♉️  April 21 -May 21
~~~~~
Tourean girls have an inbuilt stubbornness
And are partial to the birthstone Sapphire
Understanding An Emerald and Aquamarine
Rhodonite, Amber,Lapis Lazuli and Tiger’s Eye
Universal faith in crystal’s Kayanite n Kunzite
Spiritually in tune with Carnelian

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gemini ♊️ May 22 -June 21.
~~~~~
Gemini never grow up.They are so  flirtatious
Ever wooing and seducing their audiences
Moonstone,Agate,Aquamarine,Tigers Eye
Into the healing powers of Chrystoprase stone
Naturally Green Tourmaline and Serpentine
I also see Anyolite, Citrine,Thulite and Variscite
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cancer  ♋️  June 22 - July 23
~~~~~~
Cancerarians are high on the emotional scale.
And they benefit from Emeralds and Rubies
Natural Amber,Rhodonite ,Rainbow Moonstone
Chrysoprase,Carnelian, Citrine, Moss Agate.
Even with the beautiful crystal Fire Agate
Ruby stone and Pink Tourmaline healing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leo ♌️  July 24- August 23
~~~
Leo has birthstones of Onyx, Peridot,Ruby,
Even Turquoise,Amber,Citrine,Larimar,Petalite
Or Fire Agate,Red Garnet,Sunstones,Sardonyx
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Virgo ♍️  August 24-September 23
~~~~
Virgo needs be a person advocating virginity
I know because I have fusion and experience.
Realistically fusing together two personalities
God knows n loves my approach and approves
Of Peridot,Carnelian, Blue Sapphire,Tourmaline
      Of Green ........
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Libra ♎️  September 24-October 23
~~~~
Libra uses healing properties of Lapis Lazuli
In Peridot,& Sapphires, Aquamarine stones
Bloodstones,Emerald stones, Sunstones,
Rainbow Moonstones, Morganite, Lepidolite
Aventurine,
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scorpio ♏️  October 24- November 22.
~~~~~
Scorpio needs the healing of Aquamarine
Charolite, Turquoise, Malachite or Emerald
Obsidian Black , Golden Topaz and Boji Stone
Ruby, Lapis Lazuli,Green Tourmaline,Kunzite
Peridot , Rainbow Moonstone, Rhodochrosite.
I know of Variscite Hiddenite n Apache tears.
Or Herkimer Diamond ,Hiddenite , or Variscite
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sagittarius ♐️  November 23- December 22
~~~~~~~~~~
Sagittarius is so joyous and very fun loving
Amethyst,Turquoise,Lapis Lazuli n Blue Topaz
Grace her body with healing properties now.
I recommend Azurite stone, Blue lace Agate
Tourmaline pink, Malachite, n Yellow Sapphire
Topaz of white and beautiful Ruby Stones
A Zircon Crystal and Snowflake Obsidian
Rich Merlinite, Labralite ,Dioptase n Charolite
In these healing crystals wear them with faith
Understanding the powers the Universe grants
Sacred is the space that you take upon Earth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written and inspired by Sacred Space.
Shop 10 /74-78 The Corso , Manly , 2095 NSW . Australia. Louise Winchester.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Written by Philip.
December 2018.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
A series of 12 Acrostic poems linking crystals to the Zodiacal signs.
Jon Tobias Dec 2012
I don’t come home some nights
And my brother tells me when I don’t
As if I didn’t know that I did that
He asks me why

I always answer
Just stayed with a friend

But he knows what drinking all night looks like
I remind him of his mother

Weekend mornings
When he’s still home
I walk in smelling like suicide

He talks for hours
Nonstop
His hands hold things I can’t see
“This is how I am going to squeeze the toothpaste from now on
Are you mad at me from doing it wrong?
Hey I wish I was strong like you
It’s hard to help dad when you’re not here
I need you to buy name stickers for the Christmas presents
This is your shirt but dad doesn’t have enough money for laundry
I made too many sandwiches today
I ate them all
My best friend Louise farts a lot
It’s funny when he farts
Do you have to work today?
I know how it feels
Work is so ******* hard”

Sometimes I feel so unprepared
Feels like a ricochet for wrists
Axes chopping bricks
But yesterday
I fist fought a mountain
Some of us get practice

I tell him to relax
To bug his sister

“I love you,” he says
“When you become a writer can I draw pictures for your books?
I wake up some nights and hear you type
Mom used to stay up all night too
I don’t ever want her to come home
Are you going to move out soon?
Before or after Christmas?
Before or after my birthday?
Will you still get me presents?”

He is a one man search party
And has found most of the answers

In the end
The answer is always
Yes
The answer is always
I love you too
Louise Jun 2014
I wonder if you know* ..

it's the way you gently touch my fingertips
while we are in bed together
between sleep and dreams

You don't realise ..

that I often just look at that soft, darkly tanned skin
at the back of your neck, and know what it feels like
against my lips

You'd never think that ..

the creases around your eyes
the grey in your hair
makes you look 'just delicious'!

You don't know ..

when you place your hands on my body
and you're not trying to be suggestive
is when I find it most arousing

Did you realise that ..

even after 25 years together
when "Louise" leaves your lips
that sound,  is my most favourite in the world

Did you know ...

among all the romantic gestures
that you have blessed me with
it is these things that allow me to fall for you even deeper
for Brian x
My whole and entire is YOU
When LOVE-soul-connect happened
At once I knew I was not "I"
I was "YOU"

Not that magnificent as I wanted to
I'm not above others, not lower them
I was covered with dust and ice till then
But now, I can see a thousand births

On your sunlit sparkle dazzle
You turn my vacance illuminate
Foggy became our image of "I"
You just cleared the smoke screen light

Within days, Our lives drenched
Strayed from life to wanderlust again

Natural it was for us to connect
To let us play "AGAPE LOVE" game
Nothing ever un-stitches our bond
No scissors nor knives makes the cut

Stayed, huddled and jagged
You & I - BE part of the cosmic "ONE"
Now, none is wasted in dictum of Holocene

We have arrived on a ramp of LOVE
Head over heels, drove down the streets
Like Thelma and Louise on our feet

OUR LOVE feels like epochs
We be the DUST of the wind
And we think we are still "FREE"
FREE from Life,
FREE to LOVE
PS Jun 2015
Gypsy Rose Lee.
Is that you or me?
Does that make you Baby June?

The favourite and best
No concern for the rest
You sing and you dance in the tune.

Or just like Gypsy
You learn how to strip tease
The glamour and glitz of the night.

But who's mama Rose?
And how could I know?
She pushes and leads to a fight.

But Gypsy is magic
And a rare art form
And June is so dainty
Doesn't know when she's born
She's the centre of attention
She's the first one who speaks
And Gypsy is left there
Still being Louise.

Chow mein and lambs
Travel the land
A show on vaudeville stage.

Let me entertain you
Let me have a try too
Honey, were you not entertained?
Has anyone ever seen the movie/musical Gypsy? Well I love it!

— The End —