lovecanbereal Poetry (146)

It was two thousand and one - I had moved
House, and hoping for a brand new start.
It was my first night there - and so it proved
An omen there to win a lady's heart.
In the local pub, loneliness was soothed
With a cold beer and conversation's art;-
As it so happened, I soon found a table
To drink with strangers, and so begins this fable.

The first night in a different suburb and
So soon (it seemed) I'd found some company.
I was a stranger in a stranger land -
(The outer Western Suburbs of Sydney).
I write this introduction - you understand -
To set the scene for what comes next (you see).
At this table were a man and a lady -
He's an Irishman, and she a "Gypsy".

A "Gypsy of the heart" is more accurate
And the old Irishman soon wanted leave;
He had his sorrows to drown by drinking late
(And so he asked - and got - this said reprieve).
Therefore, it seemed, that I now had a date -
(Well fact is harder than fiction to believe).
A few more drinks - well that was requisite -
And what followed later was exquisite.

Her name was Lyn, and she was "rough as guts" *
Though strangely elegant (about forty-nine)
To my thirty-three - and was I nuts
To entertain encounters of this kind?
Well I'm not mad, but maybe "nucking futs" **
(And my first night here promised to be fine).
On her arms were faded old tattoos -
Well, I was young, and how could I refuse?

It seemed the feeling (mutual) now came,
And standing out now on the quiet street
I saw her dress (well-tailored) to her frame
And suddenly was overcome with heat.
Well I could see that she now felt the same
I suggested that we both should now retreat
To my house (which was in a row of shanties) -
All I wanted, then, was to rip off her panties.

Which happened soon - I had a makeshift bed-
It was only just a mattress on the floor
With boxes full of clutter by our heads
(Put there earlier the day before).
Well, naturally enough our clothes we shed,
She reclining on her back lets me explore
Her intimacy and nub of womanhood -
Will I go on further? - well yes I should.

She had a lovely body - a size ten -
Though I'm not all that particular at times -
I don't discriminate now - nor did then -
(Most women are beautiful and sublime).
And so we were in bed, and that was when
I thought I was the luckiest man alive.
The more I loved her the more we were wanton
And that night I felt richer than a sultan.

Two more nights there were, and it was bliss;-
Our naked bodies creamy in the moonlight.
And giddy's how I felt when we did kiss;-
Her long blonde hair and face - a lovely sight.
Of course, it is the times like this I miss -
(These memories of sensual delight).
The best I can do is write this tribute:
The "kindness of strangers" - there's no substitute.



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Women - that's why I write poems about them
Because they drive me crazy.
To remember everything thats happened
Before memory is hazy.

All I can do is think of memories made
To treasure each moment of sweet seduction.
Oasis in a desert are each maid
(Though the logic would seem non-existent).

Now experiences go tinkling like glass
Through the infinite;-
To be made a part of memories
On love's sandy beach.

The infinite, the abyss
Perhaps just a blind chance;-
Crevice of ice - long for that kiss -
Or if you'd love to dance that all-night dance.

The outer essence
Which hides the package within;-
This evanescence
Where time outlasts our sin.



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I'd kid myself - I have now a heart left to break?
(Seven days ago, that night and afternoon).
Your so cold, and do tonight, this heart forsake
With cruelty - (and I'm so glad I saw it soon); -
In too deep already, and on the make
(As now my heart does sink in bluest gloom); -
One night of passion - and then left all alone -
Other hearts I've met - though not a heart of stone.

Seven days ago - do I deceive myself?
You touched me deep inside - one night of passion.
Though now it seems you've left me on the shelf
Or is spite now in lovers back in fashion?
Oh well at least I won't feel all bereft
Even though (it seems) you took my cash in -
I'm just glad I never bought you sapphire
Not out of pocket too much, little liar.

Have you no heart? (Or what is left of it) -
Is it all you want - a one-night stand?
Well I'd go on and put my foot in it
Had you a heart (you say) that you command?
I ask why tomorrow - my worst critic
(Which is myself) my heart you reprimand.
Well, Ms what can I say? Now you've hurt me
Best look for love elsewhere now - well surely?



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The World calls her a slut;-
In reality, she's a High Priestess.
Not seeking the World's riches
She burns as she finds.

The World calls him a player
In reality, he is a man on the Road.
Being made Whole
By the kindness of a stranger.

What the common people think
Means nothing to their Quest.

It is only kindness and understanding
That brings them together.

A Circle is being made complete.

This is a Higher Love.



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On the cusp of beauty, you were born
Before this World had its modern form.

Atavar and Spirit much older than us
Existence formed from the deserts' dust.

Imprinted in time, dissolved on the wind
Generous in spirit, eye that is kind.

Giving your blood to the World's other breeds
Improving the type, producing proud steeds.

Your form is beauty, power, and grace
Down storied time your bloodlines I trace.



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Relationships at times have been sporadic
Either a feast or a famine it is true.
In betwixt times I have been nomadic
Without a home (it seems) to go back to.
So best to now write on before I've had it
As I am old and nothing much is new.
The next installment now chapter and verse
Her name? Brittany - and I have had worse.

In Banksia* there is a bordello
(I wish I could tell of maidens in a glade).
Less idyllic here, and its in a hollow
Off Princes Highway on the promenade.
No doubt since then "princes" more have followed
To repeat the bad example I have made.
Well life is lonely for the single man -
Sometimes you have to take just what you can.

To go on - I've said there is a knock shop**
With service that would lay a man down low.
Is it still there? well truly I know not
(All this happened so very long ago).
All types of girls - there have been a lot -
(I tell of the horizontal tango).
Well so it was - that's the reality -
For me no small thing or triviality.

I thus enshrine each circumstance in verse
(Not ev'ry girl I've been with was a whore).
Though maybe half - and maybe it's my curse
(Well its more moral than violence and war
Of which I'll speak not - for it is greatly worse
And something which we rightly should deplore) -
And I had not a partner to justify
This recreation of a single guy.

Her name was Brittany (well I have said that)
And I was twenty nine and fancy free.
(By now you prob'ly think I'm a love rat
Though It's more true I was just lonely).
I saw her in the foyer - there she sat
Half naked there in her lingerie.
In the half darkness where I met her eyes
A soft glance that held for me no lies.

About my age she was - her hair was blonde -
Her skin was white in the soft light aglow
(And some may say that things like this are wrong -
Although it happened many moons ago).
Celestial providence when I was young
Where creamy white her milky skin doth show.
Would fair Dianna*** show so wan her features?
With something fate once contrived to teach us.




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Yes, I am something of a scoundrel
Though I have been forced
To be one
Through nature
And circumstance.

Through early grinding poverty
And a childhood
That would rip out your heart.

I am Virgo -
My ruler Mercury
Number 14 my birth date
(That's 5 in Numerology)

I am a gambler
Because of my nature
And of necessity

I am a gambler
For money.

I am a gambler
For love.

Money comes and goes
In a flash
And goes
And comes again

Women
They've been many.
(They seem to come and go also).

This is Mercury operating again
(Through conjunction with Venus I suspect).

I have only loved twice
The first time wrung
The last drop of blood out of my heart
When we broke up.

The second time much later
(More like domesticity)
Genuine affection nonetheless
For eight years of contentment
Which ended for reasons
Which I will not describe here.

I've never cheated
In these relationships

Now I am much older
Women still fascinate me.

Will I ever find "the one"?
Maybe it's third time lucky?
Who knows?

I have my faults
We all have our faults.

I make no apology
For what I am.
My poetry anthology

Describes my life
For what it is*



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I was walking home
with the Sunday paper -
got tired
sat down.

A few seats up
from you
blonde girl.

I am shy -
you crossed
your legs
towards
me.

Sunglasses
like black coals
on your face.

Frizz of blonde hair
tousled in the wind.

The echo of sky
big blue sky
Sunday afternoon.

But I am shy
and couldn't talk.
I missed my chance.

So many broken dreams
around here.



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Storm - finest horse - you're faster than the wind -
Beautiful bay - all muscle, form, power, grace -
Gentle eyes shining - bright with boldness - kind -
And smooth and true in all of your four gaits.
Full standing - sixteen hands - with soft white blaze;-
Twelve years old - and still with power - to amaze.

Taken from the racetrack - lucky gelding -
(Seeing you had a quiet temperament)
You quickly took to riding school - excelling -
In your next life - almost like a retirement.
Not asked to do too much - except short rides;-
There's pasture here - hard feed - and treats besides.

When young and on the track, you proved your mettle -
Fleet-footed - with hot courage - in each race -
When thoroughbreds - they settle'd down to battle -
More times than not - you'd finish in a place.
Now years on - in silhouette - your grace defines;-
Equine beauty - I see in noble bloodlines.

In verse, I now pay homage to your spirit -
And in your health I take a great delight;
The time that you have left - you're free to live it -
You've a paddock and a stable for the night.
In these pastures - live your life out - Storm proud steed; -
For it's here that you have everything you need.




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Not long after my encounter with Lorraine*
(At twenty-nine the loins are rather restless)
Two months, nineteen days later - the time frame
(I went to a bordello - I confess this).
Sometimes to go with a "girl on the game"
Is all I have (though they will never kiss)
'Cept for this poem - I will kiss and tell -
Another memory - and I may as well.

If ever you're in Sydney, near Rockdale**
And find yourself down by the Seven Ways
(It's not so far from where Cook*** once did sail
Though a fair bit has changed since those days).
This is where you may come to avail
Your self of some of the finest ladies -
Well, at any rate, most are rather sweet -
Go at night if you want to be discreet.

So there I was, I entered the bordello -
The fabric on the walls was finest silk.
On that night I was a restless fellow -
(As I suppose were many of my ilk).
I felt like a prince (somewhat like Othello
Was). I went there to seek affection's milk -
Exchange the money for this one hour's trade
To play at love - though only its charade.

The girls came out, I chose one - she was Tori
(Her working name was this at any rate).
She now forms the subject of my story -
Part of the fabric time has made my fate.
She'd be surprised to be in my poetry
Long ago on a double bed, she sate.
It didn't take so long though to disrobe
On a chair by the bed now were our clothes.

Her hair was black - in ringlets and in curls
With skin as pale as the moon - alabaster
And sweet unlike so many working girls
(Who think only about the money); now her
Soft body spoke of intimacy's Worlds
Two spirits joined in this time and place were.
Skin on skin - a type of electricity
Which I write of in my eccentricity.

I came to worship close to Venus' mount
I bow before my lady (now Goddess)
And seek to find creation by this fount
Where tenderness is in her hot caress.
To make this hour something that would count
(And worthy of a story to confess).
I bow before my lady - taste her sweet
Soon two souls in the dark are made complete.

The hour was gone and that hour gone too soon
From below I hear the madam ring her bell;-
And thus we must vacate our private room -
So broken now is intimacy's spell; -
Though for that hour we played a lover's tune.
You can guess the rest of what I do not tell
Now my poetry has paid its deference -
Another notch on the belt - experience.

So there you have it, now its bye bye pride
Another angel fallen in her grace.
Not someone I would choose to make my bride
(Though to be fair she had a pretty face).
In this poem, there's nowhere left to hide -
(Just the circumstance of that time and place)
Sometimes - it seems - we're searching for that light -
My loneliness was banish'd on that night.




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When music speaks, it speaks unto the heart; -
Where poet's words may fail, music talks.
When two lovers; - they are so far apart
Fine music now to bridge that farthest walk.
It's something that I know before we part; -
And something that may make the staunchest balk.
You say that money talks; - it's treachery -
The sole haven of the weak - in lechery.

When music speaks, the soul it now awakes; -
(It's something that we cannot quite explain).
Gods have left us to our various fates
(And time will leave but few there to remain).
History will remember those few greats
(Like the gentle kiss of seasons in Spring rain).
Byron knew this, and so did Shakespeare -
They trod the ground to walk where others fear.

And poetry, it seems, is a lost art
Something, maybe now, from a bygone age.
Woman I have loved - now we're far apart
(And remembered they, only on my page).
When I was young I thought I was so smart
The older that I get, more life it's strange.
I long for bygone times - where poetry
Would tell my lover of sincerity.




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A Woman is
Eternal mystery.

See through
The heart
Of Man
In one
Swift glance.

Can you remember this
Men - in your vanity?

All that we know
in our history
Has happened
When a woman
Took a chance.

Without a woman
Man is incomplete.

All that we know
In our profanity.

My soul
My veins
My blood
Because of her.




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