Forever a Playground Superhero's blog: "Stinky Poetry and Other Musings"

A few of you know that I am a poet.  Here's some of my poetry to tortutre you with.

 

"She was low

Simple to the Earth that borne her

As the sunken Sun on a hot long night

She made me think of willows in that breeze

The winding beating of whispers in the midst

And clever whines of a thought I once had

Was meaningless against the salt of my mind

Drunken on my madness as I sat beside myself.

 

Oh, she was low

As the Mississippi among her banks

Entrenched in memories that we all must have

Among meeting someone so simple, so fair

That the gleam in your eye pays no reverence

To the glorious sight within, playing in the dew

Simple by meaning to the world we choose to dwell

And celebrating no mind to the demons we choose.

 

She was so low

As the embrace of a forgiving God

Upon His misbehaving children who may have forgotten the way

Or simply chose to ignore the callings for home

And follow the stars to a distant vista a little bit away from what we know

And taste, oh taste!, the sheer pleasures of what we wasn’t to enjoy

Beautiful colors that paint the distant sky

And remind us of how low we should strive to be.

 

She was low

As my sunken heart the day I caught sight of her;

I happily damned myself to see her dwell again

In this simple June day, surrounded by the willingness of the early morning dew

And not knowing that she is the reason for my own very living

As she innocently play with the Sun in their endless game of touch and tease

In the madness of such a simple thing

To dare me to dream a dream a little more."

 

 

"There's a music in the way the wind says your name,

 The soft lamenting calls of a beauty beyond compare

Imagined by the heart-broken, awe-struck, admirers of your strut

 As you parade down the minds of the lost and longing

 And draw ample attentions in that smile of yours,

 The way you toss your hair, the way you flirt at the boys,

 The small of your back as you strike your pose,

 The glimmer in your eyes as you counts what's yours.

 

There's a poetry in the way the Sun draws your allure,

 The blatant stares of ravenous men touched by the Lord's Good Work

 Made bare and flesh for all to see, but for none to own and conquer;

 The terrible reminder of perfection in wait in your flowing curves,

 Full lips, sweeping legs, angelic face, perfect stance

 That makes the men fall weak and make children wonder about God,

 As you smile to your own rhythm, that shakes this world afire

 As the men around you dance unwillingly to that glorious grace.

 

There's a magic in the way the Moon shows your grace,

 That translucence that makes men grow weak and fall in love with you,

 That drives them to write poems, compose sonnets, commit miracles

 Just so that they can see you smile in that perfect moonlight;

 And in this time that I know this truth, the magic that is of you,

 This perfect lament of happiness and grace, this slow-beating song

 That feeds my heart in this perfect Moon that shows your glow,

 Let me be happy and lost when the wind says your name."

 

 

 

"It was around this time that poetry fell into vogue again

From a maddening silence it tows from our lips

Over tree tops and heavenly whims, drunkened stumbling

Of these words, temperate thoughts, simple emotions

That makes no sense but speak of infinite wisdom

That somehow we are privied to.

 

I don’t know, I don’t know where it all came from—

Maybe thinking of you, from afar, from my window space

Made the cold steel words of casual conversation

Reorganize themselves in fanciful dance

And, simply-minded, fed the happiness that we must have felt

You from afar and me from my couch.

 

So I wrote the first line timidly, of sickening remorse

Of a soul that knows nothing, but who have been shown everything

And felt pure madness flow from his fingers, leaving dark smudges behind them—

Sheer agony, sheer bliss, as I fall into the abyss

In allow the universe to envelop all within me—

Simple thoughts among these lines that binds us yet."

 

 

"The Earth have taken an heroic undertaking

To create the like of me and you

She bound our soul with gold and ribbon

And draped our spirit in the finest of linens

So beautiful that the sky itself grew jealous of us

And the stars became bitter of our joy!

For, in our journeys, our times, our loving seconds apart

We shall never be alone

For our hearts once were one

And they will be once again."

 

 

 

"There's a music in the way the wind says your name,

The soft lamenting calls of a beauty beyond compare

Imagined by the heart-broken, awe-struck, admirers of your strut

As you parade down the minds of the lost and longing

And draw ample attentions in that smile of yours,

The way you toss your hair, the way you flirt at the boys,

The small of your back as you strike your pose,

The glimmer in your eyes as you counts what's yours.

 

There's a poetry in the way the Sun draws your allure,

The blatant stares of ravenous men touched by the Lord's Good Work

Made bare and flesh for all to see, but for none to own and conquer;

The terrible reminder of perfection in wait in your flowing curves,

Full lips, sweeping legs, angelic face, perfect stance

That makes the men fall weak and make children wonder about God,

As you smile to your own rhythm, that shakes this world afire

As the men around you dance unwillingly to that glorious grace.

 

There's a magic in the way the Moon shows your grace,

That translucence that makes men grow weak and fall in love with you,

That drives them to write poems, compose sonnets, commit miracles

Just so that they can see you smile in that perfect moonlight;

And in this time that I know this truth, the magic that is of you,

This perfect lament of happiness and grace, this slow-beating song

That feeds my heart in this perfect Moon that shows your glow,

Let me be happy and lost when the wind says your name."