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Literature Text
She doesn't laugh like that
with him
anymore.
She doesn't smile,
she doesn't talk,
she doesn't seem
to care
like that
with him
anymore.
But he'll try.
He will.
And he might fail,
but that's fine
just as long as he knows
he's tried.
with him
anymore.
She doesn't smile,
she doesn't talk,
she doesn't seem
to care
like that
with him
anymore.
But he'll try.
He will.
And he might fail,
but that's fine
just as long as he knows
he's tried.
Literature
one night stand
Inspiration kicked me out
of bed, threw my
clothes-
said, I'll call you-
and moved on
to the next.
Literature
Dying to meet you
I courted Death
in a burnt out pub
with faulty lights and dirt-cheap drinks;
She had tarred fingers
which danced hypnotically
around her hazy smeared glass.
Word round town was that she had the
Kiss of death
and a tongue as sharp as a scythe,
it was a challenge I couldn’t resist.
I seduced Death
bought her a drink or two
and with rum burning my heart
I stroked her arm,
(coffin cold)
and licked my lips like a predator
(a lamb in wolf’s clothing)
and when she grinned back,
I realised which of us was really prey.
I danced with Death
in a dark alley,
in an abandoned warehouse,
a trashed motel room;
it was fast and heady and yet -
t
Literature
Acceptance
I was never born
to be cookie cutter,
I was always the brownie baker,
foot kisser
turning the oven up to 451 degrees Fahrenheit
with a dagger in one hand and a bar of gold in the other
flicking specks of the metal
into my words and watching the town below
blossom into what we call a generation.
Always birthing phrases and dialects about
understanding and acceptance
but never being understood or accepted myself.
"How can that be?" Schrodinger will ask.
I am unwilling to open Pandora's box,
so I guess we will never know.
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Comments2
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A little perseverance is always good.