"nates" poems
i try to fall asleep to the sound of atmospheric tones and rain
yet nothing can seem to dull the pain
of what i've always felt for you
what i'll always feel for you,
don't tell me this **** isn't new for you
too
i try to fall asleep to the sound of atmospheric tones and rain
but my mind remains
disturbed
i think i am quite
perturbed
i fell asleep to the sound of atmospheric tones and rain
my mind quietly hiber-
nates
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 6:11 PM UTC
it gives my heart ease, to sit quietly
in the corner of your room
and watch you, as you sleep...
i sit in the chair
where not so long ago
you suckled at my *******
and marvel
at how the years have passed
at how you have grown.
i used to hold your feet
in the palm of my hand
and look down
on your little baby face
now you run and play,
you are daddy's little man
and nanna's goodboy
and tom and nates bestest buddy
this is the time,
sometimes the only time,
when i have you
all to myself,
this is the time when i spend
a few moments stolen from the world
to watch you
curled up into a little ball
this is the time
when my womb calls to me
and i sigh and say;
"he was once ours but now
he belongs to a bigger, brighter place"
this is the time
when i kiss your sleeping brow
and give you
once more into the care of the god's
and then turn and go to bed.
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 7:10 PM UTC
Many daze in the rippsy tav the Nates will hiber by their Glit
'N sometime prea with the gigaslav and there zellgreth betwit.
Now once there was a Tilly Stoet who'd paineram in the dippserill
Nifty Nates would knowet and greal it's very Tips-a-Prill
A day or more had passed in tyme till one day the gigaslav broke
Now Tilly Stoets speak of brine 'n the merryjaunah they'd smoke.
Oh they'd **** there poppers 'n slop their drippers
'Till one day the pole greasemen came.
The Tilly Stoets acted like poets and that was really O.K.
But the buzzers were fuzzers and wouldn't ya knowet
They took all there pots away.
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 8:19 PM UTC
Warhawk and Nate
The Warhawks took off and flew upwards
Like angry hornets looking for trouble
Covering the frail old biplane
A flying camera with brave crew
Tasked to look for enemy locations
Flying here and there warlanes they were
American flown Curtiss fighters
Guarding the Filipino crewed Stearman
On a mission of war in the second global war
The **** were ready and scrambled planes
Nates took off and headed for battle
Each side had skilled determined pilots
Men would die today and planes be wrecked
Like something from Hollywood they clashed
Vicious little snappers reeling about the sky
Rolling turning diving climbing shooting dodging
The battle went till fuel and ammo was gone
Two planes and pilots never made it back
Both fought like demons and paid the price
Each side lost a pilot and plane
They both came to grief on the same mountain
And left comrades and loved ones behind
Bits of broken airplanes on the mountain
Lost forgotten unwanted for decades
Till the wrecks were eventually found
Some answers revealed more questions posed
Only the pilots' ghosts and God knew the truth
In this Tarac Ridge battle February 9 1942
The day Stone and Kurosawa died...
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 12:55 PM UTC