"twosome" poems
_Elegantní Lebed_
On Vltava waters
I saw a Graceful Swan,
Peaceful and modest
Full of quiet confidence
She looked like a Fawn
I fall in love with her
From thousand miles away,
Frightened of thoughts
My crazy mind created
Swan spread her wings
To save me from darkness
I was one step away from jumping,
She embraced my sadness
And it felt like a heaven
Invited me to her secure haven
She patiently waited
Playing down her strength
Showing me a way to the calmness I crave
Above Vltava flow
In my mind I see
Gorgeous Swan dances
Twosome with Firebird
_6.7.2019_
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 1:50 AM UTC
She stands at the window
a fine white stream of goodevil
trickling down her chin
Heaving against the pane
heaving against the pain
She longs for a killer breeze
from the die-hard fan
Yellow-eyed seconds slither out the clock
hi S S ing in rhythm as they crawl
On the table
the used core of a once
juicy red delicious
hourglass figure, cyanide hearts and all
She is aware of her nakedness
Moon ogles on
bleeding silver from stab wounds
by dagger branches
awaiting a crack in the window
through which to enter
Tree of Life towers menacingly overhead
He walks in
AdamAnt
intelligent designer suit
businessgod attire
briefcase in hand
brief case in point
He knows
She knows
Time knows
Electric Goliath stirs in the depths
Ego awakens
lifts its rod
beckons to waves of children behind it
parts the folds of red sea
charges head on
Rides long and hard
hooves pounding the riverbed
Ready
to pull out
on the other side
Branches find their crack
Enraged Goliath stumbles
Ego trips
relentless walls close in
It goes under in a seizure
frothing at the mouth
drowning
as its children swim
Time holds the couple's breath in suffocating grip
Tree binds Life to a cell
at the center of her flower prison
Pane, reflecting
pain, reflected
Window souls mirror soul's Window
Branches regain their higher dwellings
Exhumed goliath stirs on a distant shore
She stands at the window
a fine white stream of goodevil
trickling down her shin
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 9:00 AM UTC
There was a sun
behind 'The Sun'
that burned a little differently.
There was a sun
farther away,
that shone a little differently.
No source of light
No source of warmth
Was not the benevolent of nature.
There was a sun
who looked a lot like you
A sun, of higher stature.
Fierce soldier, fighting hard
Cared not, feared not
the tides, the moon, the death lake.
Would burn and melt and heat and bake
Cared not, feared not
about anyone, but his dear snowflake.
He moved about,
round and round
unlike the many others.
Spellbound by the softness
of the snow ,the tempted young sun
couldn't stay any farther.
And thence moved,
the imperious sun
at a steady but leisurely pace.
Towards the wishful
and restless snowflake
who waited for his wordless embrace.
This twosome of heat and frost
wasn't meant to be
said the Mighty Lord.
Disregarding the Lord's words
The fervid sun said
"We shall be together against all odds"
Hesitant and anxious
were the first touches,
strong was this polarized attraction.
Melted the snow on the Sun's surface,
He couldn't stop this
unintentional percolation.
She gave her life
To the infinite sun
Though ,In his core she was reborn.
Calmed his inferno, the snowflake
Outstretched her empty hands again,
Cooled down the sun's wrath, like she had sworn.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
Hands interlaced
Such a beautiful face
How I love this place
My hope is eternity
Or at least infinity
To create our city
A friendship blossomed
For us so awesome
A perfect twosome
My hope is a life lived
To be said
There is where two lovers meet
Hand in hand, Side by side
For all their days and then more yet still
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 12:09 AM UTC
The Many Stages of Life.
Shakespeare wrote: that in Life,
we pass through seven,stages,
and for each stage, we fill many pages.
Recording details, joyful and sad:
of deeds done, be they good or bad.
Lifestyles led - be they short or long:
a mournful dirge or joyful song?
they’ll mark times of joy and strife
each book recording a stage in life.
But of all events therein, there’s no doubt,
The Rhythm of Life, runs throughout!
Herewith my attempt to describe poetically,
the Seven Phases, of life in metred rhyme:
A baby’s first cry, a Mother’s sigh,
a Father’s joy, be it girl or boy!
The Rhythm of Life - renewing.
Tho not adept, a toddler’s first step:
an excited giggle, a hesitant wiggle!
The Rhythm of Life - exploring.
A chilling dream: a piercing scream:
a splashing bath, a show of wrath!
The Rhythm of Life - revealing.
It’s off to school, playing it cool,
friendships made, twixt lad and maid,
The Rhythm of Life - inviting.
In the Class, shy looks pass:
Girl dates boy, flirting coy:
The Rhythm of Life - delighting.
Embarrassed flush: a girlish blush.
With proposal made, plans are laid,
The Rhythm of Life - maturing.
Lovers matched, a wedding hatched,
with banns said, the twosome wed.
The Rhythm of Life - inviting.
Twixt a couple paired, love is shared.
Next it’s three, maybe more to be?
The Rhythm of Life, expanding.
Heaven be praisedACA, the family’s raised,
then comes the desire, to retire.
The rhythm of Life, now slowing.
After happy years, and some tears,
walk grows slow, soon time to go.
The Rhythm of Life, is waning.
When The Reaper calls, the curtain falls:
being time to leave, some will grieve.
For The Rhythm of Life, has ended!
Rhymer. May 23rd, 2018.
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 7:43 PM UTC
They said we were the best twosome together. So claim i. We were considered as the best solution providers for problems in relationships. But we couldn't figure out our own muddle. If only you could see what i saw
If only you had shown me the love i craved.
Everytime we would meet, your hand tangled up in mine and everytime you would leave, it was a glimpse of you that i yearned for.
The things we fantasize about doesn't come by itself!
we have to work for it.
For a better life
For a better relationship as well
Our future is our confidence and self esteem.
If she can't learn to love you, she can't learn to love herself.
Perhaps you've made me the antagonist. But i became the protagonist of myself.
The best chapters of my story are still to be written.
If i upset you, don't stress; never forget that god isn't finished with me yet.
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 1:11 AM UTC
Embodied in a perpetual persona of shitheaded seventeen
(Before you snuck out on a cold silver sheet)
You could measure your lifespan (or is it your wingspan, now? did you know it's the same as your height?) in late-night shenanigans topped with bacon-guaca-holy-moly burgers, tumbling in neon spandex and the raising of general hell, which you probably can't reach right now,
(And how many flaming bags of feces on why-not doorsteps, for me?)
Speaking of me,
Do you remember when I kissed your head beside a broken down photo machine? Do you remember when we ran away from your first girlfriend (her first kiss) and laughed because you had a current girlfriend? Do you remember when we tried out clouds in department store floor levels, like you were planning on getting one all along? Like you were my (first) and now my (late) husband? Three years doesn't seem very long ago, when placed in proportion with - what was that word again - eternity?
You were but a fleeting presence not only in my life, (in her life, his life, their lives now broken from a trio into a typical twosome) but in your very own - one blonde beach-bunny darting from top-hat to top-shelf
(Could you give up World of Warcraft for a World of pearly White?)
(Would you take me to my Senior Prom?)
We will float yellow rubber ducks down the water at your wake (one by one) and eat food-court teriyaki because no one is allowed to be sad (says you)
(Jesus, baby, what's your dang address?!)
In the end, you ride off into the sunset on your unicycle, like the bad movie that this is
(Screaming, "this thing's killer on the *****
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
Shakespeare wrote: that in Life,
we pass through seven,stages,
and for each stage, we fill many pages.
Recording details, joyful and sad:
of deeds done, be they good or bad.
Lifestyles led - be they short or long:
a mournful dirge or joyful song?
they’ll mark times of joy and strife
each book recording a stage in life.
But of all events therein, there’s no doubt,
The Rhythm of Life, runs throughout!
A Challenge was issued to write a poem,
based on the theme "The Rhythm of Life."
Herewith my attempt to describe poetically,
the Seven Phases, of life in metred rhyme:
A baby’s first cry, a Mother’s sigh,
a Father’s joy, be it girl or boy!
The Rhythm of Life - renewing.
Tho not adept, a toddler’s first step:
an excited giggle, a hesitant wiggle!
The Rhythm of Life - exploring.
A chilling dream: a piercing scream:
a splashing bath, a show of wrath!
The Rhythm of Life - revealing.
It’s off to school, playing it cool,
friendships made, twixt lad and maid,
The Rhythm of Life - inviting.
In the Class, shy looks pass:
Girl dates boy, flirting coy:
The Rhythm of Life - delighting.
Embarrassed flush: a girlish blush.
With proposal made, plans are laid,
The Rhythm of Life - maturing.
Lovers matched, a wedding hatched,
with banns said, the twosome wed.
The Rhythm of Life - inviting.
Twixt a couple paired, love is shared.
Next it’s three, maybe more to be?
The Rhythm of Life, expanding.
Heaven be praised, the family’s raised,
then comes the desire, to retire.
The rhythm of Life, now slowing.
After happy years, and some tears,
walk grows slow, soon time to go.
The Rhythm of Life, is waning.
When The Reaper calls, the curtain falls:
being time to leave, some will grieve.
For The Rhythm of Life, has ended!
Rhymer. March 16th, 2018.
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 9:28 AM UTC
Mirthful sunlit chimes spoke of fondness
Ever they'd enmesh in love's binding tress
Streams of joy did gurgle with much delight
Their hearts according in rapture's notes
Bright news resounded through these totes
They'd professed to each other love's tie
Twas a pairing which would ne'er fade or die
Heavens arrayed in spangling starlight
The twosome combined so divinely
A sweet syrup bliss ringing sublimely
Love's declaration pleasantly pealing
Throughout the continents both near and wide
The turtle doves love ever to reside
These gladdest tidings truly appealing
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC
For Steve Yocum
~~~
an old marine called me the other night
a poet from the left coast,
a correspondent and a first responder
to my messy essays
we both, vintners of men,
compared notes on our progeny's
full bodied temperament,
and our own full body's aches and miscreants
bemoaning our losses,
of earnest poets,
of friends, even foes,
and favored football teams,
and ne'er forgetting to tally up
our occasional victories
he authors books,
he authors life,
with grainy portraits,
that try to be peepholes
to clarity
me, a periodic poetist,
more confessional blogger shootist,
than artful-words-to-please dodger,
in a vainglorious futile insanely repeating attempts
to better separate
life's wheat from the chafe of its chaff
perhaps,
we shall someday meet,
a twosome of codgers,
walk the saddened-today, blood-reddened Oregon soil,
armed with each other's comforting wisdom,
tasting grapes,
acknowledging
but for the grace of god,
we go
*together, to gather,
each other closer,
walk the vineyards and the cellars
to clarify
the wine from the sediment,
getting uproariously drunk
on friendship*
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 9:34 PM UTC
If E=MC2 and one of
those squares is not
on the hypotenuse,
then, that means May,
or Corbyn one of them
is the catch, in 22 over
seven, thus a sine, or a
co-sine of an impending
tangent, which in theory
is a hypothesis without a
principle of average law.
In lay man's terms it will
be a compounding error
because England is not a
May/Corbyn mathematical
tandem twosome in duet
at a time when a unified
solution is needed to the
European Equation with
no common denominator.
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 11:11 AM UTC
Don't come round here flirtin'
If you haven't got the game
If you can't deliver
I don't want to know your name
Sending drinks and cutesy smiles
Don't go too far round here
You'd better send at least two shots
And at least a jug of beer
You'd better bring your "A" game buddy
Cause sometimes it gets bloody
Don't leave your "A" game on the shelf
Cause you'll go home all by yourself
You'd better give as well as get
Now you're in the south
Our cougars here aren't like those up north
Our girls ...they give good mouth
They've heard it all a million times
Don't come with a cheap line
They don't drink things with flowers in
And they don't drink cheap boxed wine
You'd better bring your "A" game buddy
Cause sometimes it gets ******
Don't leave your "A" game on the shelf
Cause you'll go home all by yourself
They're barracudas in this bar
They've got teeth, and they will use 'em
So, buddy you'd best be on your game
Or you won't go home a twosome
Our women here get treated special
And son, they're mighty proud
Look at someone elses woman
And they get mighty loud
You'd better bring your "A" game buddy
Cause sometimes it gets bloody
Don't leave your "A" game on the shelf
Cause you'll go home all by yourself
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 11:43 PM UTC
Tarzan and Jane
swung from tree to tree
neath the jungle's
lush canopy
they played all day
in the steamy hot sun
they played all night
they had tons of fun
their jungle paradise
was theirs and theirs alone
no interlopers could contact them
on a mobile phone
how we'd love
to join them for a holiday
so we could relish in
their carefree lifestyle of play
but alas here we all are
working nine to five
while the jungle twosome
are happy doing a skive
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC
My heart, already wounded, wants to give out. It cried in pain the night I said goodbye, but harder still the night you kissed me again. It's choking on the blood that keeps me alive, so I think I'll drain it, drip by drip. It's so hard to think of all of these things that I've done, and all those things I did with you. My eyes shrivel up in pain, with no more tears to cry. You made me cry again tonight while I wallow in my guilt.
It hurts so bad to see you like that, so bent up... So unhappy. Because of me.
My heart can't take anymore of my abuse. We were a perfect twosome, tangled in the strings of grief and passion, pain and pleasure.
My heart has been destroyed. I feel the fluids of life slowly leaking out... It gets so hard to say goodbye, but now I know, that my heart is giving up. Giving up on you. Giving up on an "us". I love you. And I hate what you've done to me. But I don't want to leave you here... Alone in the dark. But only I can see the light and I want you to follow me.
So watch me pull myself together with some ***** needles. Watch the blood deep though the spot where your X was drawn and watch me curl up and die. But I'm sorry. Will that ever be enough?
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 5:11 PM UTC
“The scent of your light
envelopes all over and
spirits me away from here.”
“And thus, I go with
you; the sound of your shadow
snatches me in this half light.”
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 4:42 PM UTC
do not forget me
as i trickle into your skin
funnel babe
trying to slightly breathe again darkwards we move
(undercover king
under covers will be paradise and
inferno
a wasteland of blankets and spit)
cut off my fingertips and i'll remain Other
and i'll somehow Stain you
and i hold on to the tension
spread it out butter on bread
strange breed that is all there is to say about it
the amount of people who
walk on bare feet i
cannot believe the
fragility in the streets
me: with nausea and extra cover
you: starting and pinning and purring and running
we: twosome group of always more cannibalism
animals and cages we
change constantly
a maybe-core
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 2:48 PM UTC
a pair of bad eggs they do make
by always playing an ill game
we've grown accustom to their shake
over at the forum's house frame
by always playing an ill game
they've caused such great naughtiness
over at the forum's house frame
we've seen all their gross haughtiness
they've caused such great naughtiness
which can't be gladly excused
we've seen all their gross haughtiness
this behaviour they've well used
which can't be gladly excused
a twosome showing disregard
this behaviour they've well used
in the nice recreation yard
a twosome showing disregard
we've grown accustom to their shake
in the nice recreation yard
a pair of bad eggs they do make
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 6:40 PM UTC
~for you~
~~~
when I put
twosome of twisted lips together,
long dragging one foot clubbed,
agony before the other,
but one hand obeys commands,
the other disdains, ignores,
one only eye-seeing, vision impaired,
and the body laughs at the notion of
paired coordinates
tongue disobeys desires,
limping thru life's everything,
thoughts locked down on pause,
mid-think is a cassette tape
in a seven-second delayed,
a fist cannot be unbroken, unwound
chorus of mockers,
herd of haters
rejoice in my diminution,
using my weakness for ammunition
for I am a stutterer,
just another you,
misstepping, fracturing,
the minutes of a life disastered,
suffered, sadly, no gladly hanging about
but I do not forsake hope
repair each word with the honor
of a slow enunciation distinguished,
ungainly shaped, yet soldier-motion forward,
in small poems and with one hand holding
for I am armed with certainty
as I stutter thru living,
more than awaiting, comprehending,
you, you,
understand full well,
that we are all handicapped
salvation arrives when
a touching whisper heard in one solitary ear,
you sir, you, are not alone
for who among us dare deny
we are all stutterers
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 7:07 AM UTC
Gnash and Gnaw
a story book
of semantically related tales.
Troublesome twosome
words that stitch
a crossword of misrepresentation.
Incredibly Inedible
plasterboards
of unrequited dining.
Grotesque - ******
inevitable
struggles of theocracy.
Grace and ___
spared from false
synchronicity.
Jul 17, 2024
Jul 17, 2024 at 5:31 AM UTC
My rhymes are sore.
I've sprained both my
Anaphoras quite badly. Oh,
And I bleed from all my metaphors.
My episthropes are fractured from
Endless twosome emphasis.
I've taken a bad one today.
It's bedtime for beat poets.
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 6:41 PM UTC
Twas purely happenstance,
that a quick passing glance
caused Love to be ignited.
Still three years would pass,
before that slender lass
and I were lovingly united!
Firstly to places far away,
I was sent, to work and play:
twas a journey long expected,
but on my return - a later day,
the fates in their devious way,
smiled on me unexpected!
From letters in her fair hand,
I learned about her island land,
and how her days were spent.
As months and years went by,
they helped to make time fly.
So much to me they meant!
With my duty done, I returned
for a vacation, I had earned,
and asked if she would visit?
For by now, the bond I’d made,
with this attractive maid,
had fostered dreams exquisite!
After my heartfelt personal plea
to come visit me and my family:
which she accepted gracefully,
we took cycling trips here and there,
that fostered memories to share
even as love blossomed naturally.
Twas then future plans were laid,
twixt me and my fair island maid,
to wed one mid December morn.
Staying firm in our endeavour
we planned for a life together,
confronting all critical scorn!
Leaving behind our carefree days,
and forsaking our youthful ways,
we set out on our chosen adventure.
Though some said we were deceived
to think love would last, we believed,
it would prove a long lasting venture.
Surviving times of joy and tears,
love has flourished for sixty years.
Having overcome all tribulations
by boldly facing each new day:
supporting each other in every way,
we have good cause for celebrations!
Destiny decreed we would briefly meet,
then go full circle, before we’d complete
the loving twosome we remain today!
The Vows we made, when first wed,
remain as true today as when first said:
and will remain so, until our final day!
Rhymer. February 26th, 2018.
The truth and nothing but the truth!
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 4:57 PM UTC
Heady Times.
Mem'ry strides the salty walkway.
Walls hide seaside's gone delights.
Youthful fun was once the mainstay
Lovers knew not wrongs from rights.
Twosome pleasure had its heyday
Heady times those harbour nights.
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 3:22 PM UTC
a trickle did course
along its trace
no surging torrent
in its place
as love blossomed
into full bloom
the river did gain
in it's volume
burgeoning waters
spilled o'er it's banks
with a brimming
lapping at it's flanks
as the years matured
the rivers of love
took a lasting bend
into a wealthy rapport
the twosome
did beautifully blend
love's chorus sings in the river's gush
a sustaining refrain so very lush
their tributaries coalescing for a lifetime
journeying love's waters so sublime
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC