PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Tell now, I say, if

I could bend a finger in precise manner would

you love me still? And more?

In early days, I was cat on fence staring down the

things which made my stomach a deep, red pitfire

Heavy, nasty growl

Nocturnal creature, eyes of certain tint, a

yellow color

In wayward stroll, I walked the fields of

youth hands down

A champion or

queen of dandelion seeds



It is of no consequence how



I am one with filth

from mouth to

convulsing body

I shift and do not ask for much at this hour

Brain of scrambled eggs

the right ingredients and

it is a good time to pertake of me

You, who peers through corners,

it is a life long legacy to lie

down and listen to the drippings of night

and there, you are noble

with crickets and a white flash that

occasionally rips out the power

I have had my strong eye on you

See how it has perched so

conveniently on my cheek

A blinking sermon

Ah, yes, and the change of

heart the moment you found it so alive and

so willing to glow at your features:

The brown skin of Egyptian love goddesses

your thick, cultured hair

shattering lips

I, am no match for

such a stellar frame as

it collides delicately and most cordially into mine



But it is of no consequence why



In the great boom of morning

Earth glistens and stretches

the flowers reach to Godliness, open

their arms a nearing distance to my wet socks

I pad along the boardwalk, watching this

day melt into a somber rain

And I think of you, as if you

were every crisp sound

Every raging thunk of footsteps

Every high chirp somewhere lost in the forrest

Every new thing that I have found since

day one until the closing gap of here and now,

I think of you.



And it is of no consequence when

These things just happen

A quiet movement of circumstance

The mechanical drum, hollow and the

blind man plays his swollen wrists til they are dead

We are gifted, here, breaking the stillness

Swaying like tiny rivers

Feeling the vibration of

distant streetlights flipping on

Where an evening stirs itself gently into a

new season

I think of you

How I have loved you so intensely through

these nights

As if there were nothing else before

nor

afterwards

As if in some slick, caked dream

we ate this love like sweet danish

Held our bellies tight, trodding home

It is of no consequence where, really,

I just think of you

As if you were fruit, ripe, and soft

Every grainy morsel of taste

The smooth intoxication of amber wine

Each and every sensation bursting into

tingling flames upon my skin

I think of you