Last Edited Poems (1,151)

I spent monday
just walking through town
searchin' for magical
timbers of brown

I watched tuesday morning
arrive like a swan
calm at the surface
when calmness has gone

I spent most of wednesday
walking the deck
from the truest of branches
I fashioned your neck

your hips were my thursday
curved from the air
I spun every string
from a strand of your hair

friday smiled at me
from the teeth of a breeze
my old life was locks
the new one was keys

saturday woke me
to the purest of note
from the deepness of meaning
I painted your coat

now the world is a sunday
and your song is a bird
I listen to your breathing
and I know every word

It has always been a desire, an unfulfilled will
Making love in the rain, by the sea
I remember how it was today, such an autumn day
You and me, on that beach at night, on a one-way trip
Just the two of us, the sea, the moon
I wish you were mine and you wanted me to be yours
No stars to count, the overcast moon
I lay you on the sand, I launched myself the discovery
I gently touched your face, kissed your neck
You shivered, I felt like a boy and a boy
I didn't need light, I didn't need to see you
Just with the touch, I felt your body tremble
Shivering wasn't from cold, it was from deep desire
And I absorbed by your body, the world could end !!!
With my hands between your thighs, I kissed you fervently
I wanted to take you that night, very slowly
Explore every inch of your body, indulge me in your beauty
I never wanted anyone like that, I was sure of that
The clouds covered the moon, the little rain was falling
And I between your breasts, I was discovering you
The rain wetted our bodies, it didn't stop us
Our desire didn't cool, in the rain we would love
The rain that fell, the sea that bathed us, your salty body.
Unique, delicious flavor, sacred moment.
Two bodies that joined the rain, souls that satiated
Promises that were fulfilled, wishes that were fulfilled
Moist moans, torrid wills, madness of youth
Common feelings enjoyed to the full
And it was that night, wet but hot
That I kept the memory of the two of us in my mind.

we came from near
we came from far
to trust the truth
to duel and spar
to stand upon
the hill of scarves
to nurture all
that darkness starves

"what then? cried Shankly's ghost.. what then?"

we lost our souls
all ninety six
and wrote their names
upon the bricks
and lit a flame
on every shirt
so justice knew
their family's hurt
and sang
"you'll never walk alone"
through Madrid Squares
and dusty Rome

what then?.. cried the the thief of time, what then..?

we woke to greet
the phantom dawns
as passion fought
the corporate pawns
to bleed away
and leverage hope
to bitter end
we burned the rope
and rose again
as europe fell
to the hoards of light
of brave redmen

what then? cried Shankly's ghost.. what then?

the world fell in
to viral rage
that stopped the streets
so fell the blade
and took the dream
and ran away
and stole each light
each smiling ray
but nonetheless
the truth did out
as scousers smiled
from every mouth

thirty years since tropy shown
its true..
"you'll never walk alone"

You touch me with your love and care
Shower me with loving attention and affection
You tell me you don’t care
If you have me by your side
for one day, one week or a year
Anytime I’m free to walk away
But I refuse to give in to my loneliness and desires
And use you this way

You tell me you don’t want anyone else
But our interests are not aligned
Our heart waves are not tuned and signed
To each other and to our inner mind
We come from two different worlds
Like the sea and the desert folds
That only meet when it rains and cries
But You tell me you don’t care
If you have me for one day, one week or a year
Anytime I’m free to walk away
But I refuse to give in to my loneliness and desires
And use you this way

You would have made the perfect husband and father
Had my heart not been a maze
And the key lost without a trace
I’m not the simple girl you need
But You tell me you don’t care
If you have me for one day, one week or a year
Anytime I’m free to walk away
But I refuse to give in to my loneliness and desires
You have value and worth
The temptation to give in to what you say
Is beating at me from every doorway
But, you are precious in God’s eyes
And I refuse to use you this way

At first not caring that some statues and memorials were being removed.
As well as the naming of schools, highways, buildings, etc.
I thought that I understood.
But it seems as though there is no end to it.
Eventually, there will be no naming of anything nor statues nor memorials of
anyone.
As time has passed and continues to pass how people construe what is good,
bad, or indifferent has and will continue to change.
There is a skeleton in the closet for everyone.
For example, as much as we love and respect John F Kennedy and Martin Luther King, they were both purported to be notorious womanizers.
Some might think this to be a moot point but THIS is the POINT.
Which sin or indiscretion will be viewed as allowable or not and by whom?
History was what it was.
One can't alter that.
What we can do is teach the truth of our past, present, and future.
Enlighten our young.
Show them that love and charity are the brightest paths to follow for shared happiness and the preservation of our freedoms and liberty...

Just a note
to say hello,
waiting on a bowl of gumbo.
Seems you are a no-show,
Probably sneaking off again with the maestro

Long ago
known for her solos
but before she wore out her welcome on cello,
she tried to play jazz off a banjo
in the wine cellar was locked away her self-absorbed piano.

Summoned inspiration for a tune from an episode
from The Twilight Zone
which starred a fallen saint who lost her halo
When It rolled from her dome
while dipping her bent toes
into the dark cosmos
but pissed off a red demonic hippo
pouncing on a giant translucent minnow
So the story goes
she paid thru the nose.
The falling halo
was oddly enough snatched up by a swooping sparrow,
but dropped like a dirty ho
on seeing a dancing scarecrow
doing the tango
with a Hispanic gringo.
but crows are no dodos
Each of them has a mind of their own.
mostly Crows are at home
on sun baked roads,
like Idaho's
US 95 thru Moscow,
grilling up some squirming h*rny toads.
The halo tumbled for years through God only knows
til it finally landed on the Antiques Roadshow
in Chicago
following a dubious Van Gogh
spotted missing yet another ear lobe?!

.

Friction restriction that lies between gravitating energy the force of being.
The melodious rhythm of the binary code pulsating waves of wholly interdependence.
The nucleus of the radiating burn through the marbled sands of dune.
The solar plexus of the big orange peeling.
The coupled pulsars revealing.
Sinema waving peak-to-peak peaking.
The chronology filament glowing in the dark.
Ages of eon through the prism reflex.
The flying furlong of time counting on the hand given and taken away.
The measured movement of the point-to-point pointing.
The final hurdle the greatest leap leaping.
The recalibration of the workings of the mind minding.
The currency of the decimal charge charging seated at the right hand of the father.
The beginning of distance relative flowing through the hindered seam.
The cause and effect of the broken dream.
Parallel(s) shared the carried fluid.
The united front of weight removed.

Maybe one day I will buy a horse.

Then when it finishes last in the Grand national I can sell it as the greatest horse to have never won the
famous race.

I will tell the people that if it had of just got over that first fence
It would of... fell at the second!

When they interview me I will tell the media that I never trained the animal to jump fences. When they ask me why?
I will say I was afraid he’d fall!

When they explain he did actually fall I will say I told you!

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You were born such a beautiful jewel
How could anyone be so cruel
Your life was spread before you
What wonderful things you would do

No one knows what you could have been
We can only wonder and pretend
You should have lived a long and beautiful life
Doing all kinds of things like riding a bike

You will never be able to do all these things
As your life was cut short by death’s sting
One you trusted to love and protect you - betrayed
And your last moments were spent afraid

We will light a candle to remember and send our love
You are a red star shining far up above
Glowing brightly with your Heavenly Father safe and sound
The most beautiful – prettiest – little Angel Ruby to be found

down by the cold sea there lives a wild swan
who floats high on the harbour till all tides are gone
all alone in this world she sails by her leave
and the heart of this viewer forever she'll thieve

as dawn gathers shadows about its own hand
the white swan sings melodies broken in sand
and if you do hear her for haunted you'll be
as your mind floats like rivers down to the sea

the heart of a woman in the guise of a bird
floating on old dreams that outgrew the world
and every summer she's there and she's past
to places where light and love seldom do last

some say the wild swan was once but a pair
so split by some bullets that flew through the air
and around those same bullets was a terrible lie
that stole all the beauty from out of the sky