"officiant" poems
Ask me,
Ask me now daddy.
What I want to do when I grow up.
I want to be happy.
No, not happy
I want to be happiness.
I want to be joy and cheer and admiration
Confidence and peace and optimism
I don’t want to be like others, no, I want to be love.
The smile that comes across your face when they say your name,
The look that makes your heart skip a beat,
The song that makes you rethink every second you spent together.
I don’t wanna be the poem, I wanna be the emotion behind it,
Not the first kiss, let me be the nerves,
Not the dance, let me be the excitement,
Not the Officiant, let me be the vows.
When I grow up, I don’t wanna be a doctor mommy.
I want to be the feeling when someone’s told there’s a cure,
Or when a parent finds out their child will live to be a teenager,
Or maybe I want to be 3 in the morning when a mother holds her child for the first time.
I want to be affection and adoration and passion
Oh, I want to be passion.
Let me be passion.
So that you cannot do without me, because nothing without me has meaning.
So that when you are playing the final strain or scoring the winning goal,
Or writing the last chapter or finishing the last paint stroke,
You will think of me.
Maybe I’ll be allegiance or devotion or respect.
I won’t be the soldier, I’ll be the loyalty.
Or the surprise in a child's heart when their dad comes home early,
Maybe I’ll be the feeling when a father meets his baby for the first time,
And the child already knows his name.
I want to be piety and faith and worship.
I don’t want to be the pastor, I’ll be the lesson.
Maybe I’ll be the obligation behind the first baptism or first communion.
Maybe I’ll be the words when someone so low is told someone loves them.
I’ll be the salvation of the gospel,
The redemption to the guilty,
The forgiveness to the sinners.
When I grow up,
I want to be the opposite of sorrow,
The antonym of misery,
The reverse of fear,
The contradiction of rejection,
The antithesis of disappointment,
The inverse of insecurity,
I want to be the alleviation of anxiety,
The ease of pain,
When I grow up,
I want to be happy.
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 10:17 AM UTC
Take me to a field of flowers
and
confess your love to me.
With nature as our witness
and time as our officiant.
Hold me as the sweet scent
sways us
and the breeze
tells our story.
-M
Apr 7, 2022
Apr 7, 2022 at 11:03 AM UTC
it rained the day after Christmas and
you said you’d prefer snow.
it reminded me of London
so I kept my mouth shut and pushed your hands
further between my legs.
“eat my pineapple,” I instructed
as the *** coated my tongue.
“carry me through
the tiki bar and do pushups in the empty
space while I brush my lips on your temple.”
we were married on the corner
of Queen and Dunn;
our officiant on one knee, clad in blue knit
I
never thought I’d be here.
across oceans you recessed
further into my insomniac brain.
your eyes are green, right?
turn around:
it’s less romantic if there’s no eye contact.
track our distance across my sternum --
I’ve never been to Azerbaijan.
I took advantage of the fact that you were wearing black
and forgot to outline my
shape in chalk.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 11:21 PM UTC
society is scared of peopls big ideas. they all have small wispers saying they cant change the ideas of the ones put in place !
this world should be afraid of me cause i have ideas that could free the ones who had nothing wrong they did.
this world should be afraid of me cause my ideas are strong and officiant and will throw the leader out of his game.
im not crazy or insane. but i will lead one idea till the coruptness ends and no more lives get taken away.
if you want me to go insane on you try me cause i wont let people suffer cause peope ith ideas have ideas that can change the torture and blood shed.
ill go complet ****** on all of your ass's till you take the ideas of chang for a better way of life
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 9:39 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
Graveside Service on a Blustery Day
“The old order changeth, yielding place to new”
-Tennyson, Idylls of the King
The widower assisted to his place
Mourners in unaccustomed dresses and suits
A bible, leaflets fluttering in the wind
And gangly teens unsure what they should do
February clouds roiling and boiling
Even the officiant’s words are blown away
Prayers lifted into silence by the wind
They may have fallen by the gravediggers’ tractor
Or were blown through the leaning chain-link fence
Into the deeply darkening Grendel-woods
But still – in back –
a boy and a girl shyly touch hands
Feb 17, 2025
Feb 17, 2025 at 9:08 AM UTC
I loathe shucking clothes,
(no matter eyes severely myopic)
in preparation for here goes
another warm shower quickly
relaxing this senescent
body ready to doze
soon after lathering
this blubbery body
most unwanted fat grows
on me, no matter healthy diet
of worms, or how I stand,
not so easy add a pose
zing losing battle – Mary Jo's
if and geeze us of bulge ill flattering
particularly quiverly, sans white
"WALL" tire tread fully goes
steely belted around lower
abdominal area like lava floes
siring unsightly expose
yore squishy Jew dish priestly
punchy,plasma paunchy, gristly...
pillow like marshmallows
fittingly, rotundly soundly
identical with other schlep
tin (tin tabulation) grungy hobos,
this lap ****** lard (lord) Who Lee
bemoaning, how ilk readily knows,
where unwanted bulky flab...
most detested - hence Corp Yule Lance
leaves noth thin to noblesse oblige,
know bull eats obese,
anorexia nervosa or chance
barking out orders reminiscent, when he
hapt tubby a caller at
weekly square and/or contra dance,
now requisitioned to insulate
and excessively enhance
body electric can be mushed
into likeness of fleshy France
or repurposed into expanse
resembling any country,
whose name Kants
be easily pronounced, and historical
events glommed together recognizable
as Ataturk with a lance
bequeathed to rule World advance
sing gluttony as his divine providence,
thus requires deep dish allegiance
(non - fiber - binding contract)
for eats and make decadent
every fleshpot gourmand
stretching cellular skein to capacitance
bestowing guaranteed deliverance
with their rolling
ballooning massive circumference
into orbit with Earthly moon officiant
eternal fondue irrelevance!
Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 11:32 PM UTC