"pairings" poems
Visiting a friend on his Quarter
Horse farm, the day sunny and warm.
We walked out to his brood mare
pasture, the ladies were running,
awaiting and sunning, anticipation
in the air and their nervous behavior.
Noble his name, consistency his game,
a reliable aging stallion, sire to many
fine sons and daughters, years of proven
pairings, came halter led and prancing.
He had their scent and his spirit awakened,
the three ladies believed to be in season began
to snigger and whinny, their excitement growing
as the stallion entered their grassy domain,
the dance was about to commence.
The handler led the big fella' forward,
both sides began their quizzical inspections.
one young filly more aggressively willing
than the others. Noble excitedly returned
her heightened interest.
Within a few minutes Noble began to rear up,
he knew his job, his august appendage extended,
trying several times to mount his mate intended,
adrenaline pumping his back legs began to shake,
on his fourth failed attempt the eager proven
suitor fell to the ground, rolled over, paused for
a moment and struggled to stand on unsteady legs.
Appearing even somewhat embarrassed.
The mare moved aside, kicked her hind legs in
the stallion's direction, whinnied loudly and
ran away. Rejected the old stallion stood looking
perplexed, failure was something unknown to him.
His spirit was willing but his aging body was weak.
The old stud slowly returned to the barn, his head
hung low, no longer prancing.
For every time and being there is a season, aging
is part of the cycle, like this stallion, we all reach
this moment of understanding. Sometimes gracefully,
most times with stunned disbelief.
From Noble to nothing in one afternoon.
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC
I'm poring over your words...
Sophistication beyond compare
I can only savour in gulps
Such fantastic fare
•••••
Your stars are sculpted out of porcelain
Whilst mine, white washed vinyl
Your haloed moon, commands immediate attention
Mine only hovers...
As elliptical paint over stencil
Oceans of yours brim full
Catching the shards from the noon day sun
When mine suffer from receding tides
Turning into stagnant estuaries
where water hardly runs
Myriad views from snow swept mountains
You paint perfect with delicate pairings
Stuck with a view from a porthole
Sometimes all I see,
are the vast expanses of tumultuous endings
•••••
Still poring over all of your words
They all weigh much
but soar like feathers on birds
Artform fit for gods beyond compare
Drowning in the magic...
Of your incredible fare
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 11:49 AM UTC
The Perfect Combination
A-1 on your sirloin
Butter on your bread
Chocolate on your ice cream
Or butterscotch instead
Cream cheese on your bagels
Jelly on your toast
Maybe peanut butter
Which do you like the most
Salsa for tamales
Lemon for your fish
Onion dip for vegetables
Delicious on your dish
Pinto beans in chili
Carrots cooked in stew
Bacon on your meatloaf
Chicken cordon bleu
Chives on your potato
Sugar in your tea
Pickles on your burger
Crackers for your cheese
Garlic for your pasta
Sauce upon it too
Milk poured in your cereal
Slices of fresh fruit
Gravy on your biscuits
Sausage would be nice
Cocktail sauce for jumbo shrimp
In a bowl with ice
Syrup on your pancakes
Frosting on your cake
Cream upon your peaches
A salt and pepper shake
Caramel on your apples
Seafood and white wine
Cottage cheese upon your pears
It’s so much fun to dine
Mayo on your sandwich
Ketchup on your fries
Dressing on your salad
Whipped cream on your pies
So many combinations
That we see each day
When we’re having dinner
Breakfast, lunch or play
To enhance each other
Nothing left to waste
Flavors come together
In the name of taste
There’s one combination
The best one I can see
Not to do with eating
Because it’s you and me
So perfect now together
Like ham on top of cheese
Lettuce and tomato
Onions in your peas
Wonderful together
Sometimes sweet or ****
Soft and always tender
This love inside our hearts
Of all the perfect pairings
Only one will do
This combination built on love
Forever me and you
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 8:12 AM UTC
It was under the foggy inebriation
in which I saw you
With your cool undertones of confidence
that shaded in the new character
We spat cool fire back and forth,
relishing in the burn.
And so brought forth the
quick paced double-speak
When innocent glances linger
and Accidental contact is maintained.
It grows unignorable and
Through the Murky Starlight
You see slivers of intentions
that stab with an intoxicating sting.
Pairings that are all too clear,
Close in on a reality in which
Our Mouths are only just inches away
And
The air that sits between us is
but a fragile atmosphere
The kind that
we're convinced can be thinned
through your litter of affections.
And suddenly I find myself
rooting for Global Warming.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
she sashayed
down the runway
she put her assets
on display
and after
the rocker saw them
he wanted to be
welcomed into her bay
their relationship
hit all the highs
they had
a jet set lifestyle
they roamed
the many miles
they had money and fame
all stacked in a pile
but their dream
came crashing down
as so many
famous pairings do
the fame and fortune
did of them both *****
sticking together
and holding tight
only lasted
for a short while
for them
they saw fit
to follow
separate avenues
with other women and men
the rocker and the model
their mismatch
plays again and again
love so often
doesn't blend with fame
the attraction
soon mislays
its magnetic pull
and the dream
becomes a void pool
that loving feeling
says farewell
the starry eyed
celebrities
sound the finishing knell
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 6:54 PM UTC
you’ll cross the bridge near the center of town,
from the constable’s door just a few paces down;
at the bend near the corner of Ash and Vine,
Ye Olde Sweet Shoppe of Verses and Rhymes.
its here you will find it, my favorite store,
its soft warmth beckons through a leaded-glass door;
your arrival here announced with a chime,
at a desk near the fire lays a writing slate.
here, a tall, frail poet sits in his chair
his sweet bonny lass stands beside him in wait,
both greet each guest with deliberate care.
a sign at the door tells of an experience rare,
“pairings of sweets for tooth and ear”;
be it chocolate and wine, for a rendezvous fine,
or crumpets and tea, for a moment of ecstasy,
each tasty treat shared with verse and rhyme
each custom creation, an encounter sublime.
the ambiance... flawless, the company... sweet,
the perfect encounter, is the word on the street.
the shelves here are filled with tastes overflowing
candles are trimmed, the fireplace is glowing
sheets full of verse, of sonnet and psalm
sales may run short, but the hours last long
yet, each customer’s entrance is met with delight
giving no mind for any work through the night
for payment in full is made with their eyes
the giggles, the dances... the satisfied sighs.
for what would you give to know you’re the one
to restore another’s hope, the place life’s begun
and what would you sacrifice just so you’d hear
each delightful cry, see each joy-filled tear
knowing so many go hungry, and never will know
the comfort that’s brought from a heart that’s restored,
for hope is alive, and its hope that is shared
in each word that is writ, in each line that is paired
to each one who finds their way to this couch
whether man, woman, child, need little or much
a custom concoction to each one unique
for this singular purpose, its a poem they seek
whether free verse or rhyme, a chorus, a song
for a mother, a brother, or a loved one gone on
for some it's a present to a lover or spouse
for others the poem is a gift to themselves
yet, whatever the reason, the purpose propelling
each word is revealing, some even foretelling
for with insight and honesty, and peace of mind,
great comfort and solace they find in each line
there near the corner of Ash and Vine
at Ye Olde Sweet Shoppe of Verses and Rhymes.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 3:31 AM UTC
I'd love to love you, but -
How the static used to glimmer
On our in-betweens
You run behind the high buildings
Sleeping off dreams in a stranger's backseat
You walk toe to toe on fountain edges
While the weathered green children,
Stately lions and long-dead Greeks
Spout water to the sky,
Not theirs but channeled as if
Marbled sentences carried out permanently
You look to the happy pairings
Entangled arm in arm like *****
Scuttling up the many streets
Living advertisements for human harmony
You see yourself and me similarly arranged
Then cloud coverage as always
Shadows strike out the flight of fancy
My ghost, the first to leave
You turn your head to sunspots
Silently bereaved
Make it like you haven't seen
You go back to your old haunts
And you ply rationale with drinks
Just as your idols taught you
That's just like you
That's just like me
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 11:01 PM UTC
Tinted glass whimsies
Seductive slowly spun
Kaleidoscopic pairings
Changing in illumined awareness
Tinted glass whimsies
“How far can you bend the light?”
Sculpting temptation
Seeking colored fancies
In cylindrical designs
Consistently different
“Do you dream in color?”
Mosaic contours flow
Prismatic burst of joy
Variegated vivid visions
Not alike another
“Is your heart the variable?”
Passion is vibrant
Intensely hued brilliance
Ever changing within
Twisting and turning patterns
“Nothing ever appears the same when you are in love”
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 7:33 AM UTC
Poetry and binary codes confuse me. One speaking in affects of numbers, the other in numbers of affectivity. If one could break the code to love, unrequited, divinely impassioned, or other obscure mixtures of, I could only see a cryptic deepening to such woeful confusion. Could one assign sequencing to the untangling of emotion, so that naive lovers might surpass calculated risk? If so, should it be done? I insist, it should be done at once. Assigning bit strings of zeros and ones to compute perfect poetry in which a reader might be forced to fall in love by measured affectations, algorithms deciphered to personal tastes, then subjected by power of suggestion encoded in grandiose pairings of words, suited to the individual reader, ah thus, I begin my army of love slaves. Are you reading my subliminal messaging? You see now, that didn't hurt one megabit. Did it?
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 11:35 PM UTC
Weight…wait
Fantasies of cobblestone pairings, cracked and scattered
and wheat field decisions, looming large
now rest on my shoulders
like moss on a stone
~
Clinging tightly to each inch
of north facing skin
while never really noticing
that east is my direction of choice
~
So much it seems piles on,
***** laundry on the bathroom floor
disguised beneath damp towels
only to add more weight
~
And I lift, not knowing if I will fall,
crumbling beneath this load, drunk of the massive pain,
yet I find the ground is much softer, a bed of posies
since you wait for me, and help me to stand
~
Guiding hands comfort, shading the sun from weary,
tear stained eyes, brushing back vines, tangled and thorn’d
revealing that nothing is ever too much
when a friend is near
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 7:18 AM UTC
He stepped forward
said this was his one chance
to say what he had to say
That he wasn't there
but that he’s here now
and he’s got a lifetime to make up for it
He knew my fears before I spoke them
what is my truth
is it the kind that cuts and pillages
Because I have
and I do
I have robbed that old lady at will
I have broken through stained glass doors
I have rained fire upon all those who stood in my way
I have taken what I wanted
I have bent people at mercy
I have lied
I have promised
and I have broken
so ******* righteous
What makes you think you're like him?
What makes you think Im not?
He said She’s not like him
four generations of heart ache
Of miserable broken pairings
Four generations of devastation
he said you've saved her
You've saved this family
He said she's not like him
she wont run
She’s got a father like smoke
but she’s water
He Said she’ll stay
She'll be here till the end
There'll a wedding with two dresses
but one father
Because her's is gone
like smoke
He said my son is too selfish
You'll never find the peace you're looking for
so just don't go
He says he If he was a better father,
I would of had a better father
and I'd have a different life
I wouldn't need to be this person
but its too late
Because I am
and this is my truth now
You played your part
and now I guess I'll play mine
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 12:28 AM UTC
you felt like my cabin,
when the wood sank under.
loyalty doesn't take time,
it takes character.
seeing fallen branches
crating to one side of it,
like rough patches,
which I saw him through too.
and there i sat with you
with 3 drinks too many -
and saw the way you spoke to
strangers under the canopy.
did you notice me watching?
i knew it as soon as we sat down
and shared battle stories,
like coming back to comfort,
then into torrential feelings
i found parts of you in me,
shavings of pain and joy,
contingent to democratic debate
and i found parts of me in you
pairings of ego and art,
conditional to romanticising realism
did you notice me too?
Jun 27, 2022
Jun 27, 2022 at 10:54 PM UTC
There is no doubt that kinks exist
from the vanilla to the extreme
sadomasochism asks for pain
while the fetish defines bliss
outside these avenues attraction lays
in the realm of pure appeal
not confused with the sport
playfulness between adults
oddities more than strange
no related to loving souls
relationships stand beyond
these attempts to spice it up
be they hetro or something more
pairings are based on romance
one to the other becomes their norm
declaring more than kink explores
put aside the prejudice
disregard when hate equates
depravities of the mind’s eye
with amour when spirits court
no matter how the bits may fit
acknowledgment may extend
to hearts entwined as one
asking all to honor love.
© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181216.
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 3:07 PM UTC
we have two ears
and
a mouth
for a reason.
*humans,
by nature,
are supposed to be
creatures
that listen.*
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 12:38 AM UTC
an open mind can see fires yet unlit
befriend those who are readily unfit
stroll pastures moist with dew
break apart and add many to few
cruise on pathways in pure delight
sit quietly as day journeys into night
bump into walls sturdy and tall
seemingly steady but ready to fall
arise in passions so bravely met
win on a loser and lose a sure bet
flounder solemly at loves’ doorway
put loss and revenue off another day
shed light on most pressing of things
place rainbows in stones and cast them on wings
embrace strangers’ sternest of glarings
put things in places, in the most odd pairings
stumble through friendships with utter spite
hug a child tenderly to fend off a fright
cast a pebble to a tidal wave
fall to forgiveness when failing to be brave
shout at a naive then honor a guardian
knowing full well those clothes you have been in
remember how foul ideas can be
herald a compatriot, get ready to flee
for once opened all hell it can fill
eyes, ears and mouth fashion its will
full of fantasies and wildest things to tell
like a Pavlovian pup awaiting the bell
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 8:28 AM UTC
These scraps are yours,
Little words running through my head,
Pretty pickings and pairings,
Offering your praise.
Take them, o Lord
Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 12:05 PM UTC
60...Sixty
Neat little lives
Positioning their perfect wares
Pairings of prime breeds
Ever hopeful of certain outcomes
The grand nuptials and vibrant careers
Offspring to count and coddle
Only a spec home will do
With vehicles that glisten and guzzle
All's well, for now is eternal
Clouds come and go as we stake claim again and once more
Grandchildren flow
As economies wane
Tidy hearths now taut and burdened
A dear one passes
A job erased
A goal undone
Some targets missed
The years set in
Im 60
Have a great day
Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 4:52 PM UTC