The Web Poetry Corner
The Web Poetry Corner
Sunshine, Victoria, Australia
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Sex and Poetry
I ask a million questions that irritate, I know,
It's just we share so little and nothing of you shows.
You touch me through your poetry that we share on the net.
But passions you produce in me are enough to make me fret.
It's not that I'm a stalker, it's just my curious mind
I want to know what makes you tick, what treasures I could find
If we could commence with talking and then move on from there
I know we could communion deepen and find things to share.
But if you keep your distance, as you have done before
And only share your poetry you're closing up a door
that I could use to meet you on a higher plane
Instead I'm filled with regret it's sex and poetry again.
It's just like sex and poetry on a winter's day
I look for charm to keep me warm while spring is far away.
Although I do not know them, a one night stand to fire
all the secrets of my heart, and passions to aspire.
The next day I'm alone and memories so sweet
are all that's left to stay the bitter embered, dying heat
So I read up on the poetry that enflames me once again
And your presence moves my hand until, I forget the pain.
It's only sex and poetry, it doesn't mean a thing
It's just a hand, a one-night stand, an emotionless fling
It's only sex and poetry over distance deep
A way to get through the day and find a way to sleep.
It's just like sex and poetry and loving plays no part
So I'll take some string and reel in and wrap it round my heart
You turn passion into poetry, remember if you could
When the bird has flown and you're alone at least the poetry's good
It's late, the night has touched my soul
and desolation peeks from beneath it's day covers.
Feeling the loneliness separate my whole being
and bringing the demons to the forefront of my mind,
here they multiply and scream anew.
A tear carouses, drunkenly down my cheek,
Making a glistening spectacle of itself
As it renews itself like a waterfall.
Cascade after cascade forming puddles on my clothing, my skin,
my inner being is awakened to sorrow and pathos,
My abject poverty and misery have become my night-time shroud.
I seek solace in things uncomforting, the cake, the ice-cream, the chocolate
Despair creeps around the edges
waiting like a thief to claim the remains
Crawling into my veins and exploding fear and doubt in them
I sit my arms clenched around my knees
Neither giving or taking comfort.
A shiver passes through me as I stand apart and observe
The creature I have become.
And mastication of self stirs in the core of my being. I am afraid.
I sit silent amidst the cacophony of my soul
While the maelstrom of emotions struggle to the surface
Bringing with them every wrong and sin
Despising the courage that allows me no peace. I continue
To explore and subdue new territory.
Morning comes and with it, new promise
I put on my face and go into the world a brave conqueror,
Claiming victory over each insignificant obstacle
As I sweep through the world triumphant and undaunted.
No-one knows that the night has touched my soul
Fragments of my life flit by
seen through kaleidoscope
facets that make me cry
and bar my dreams from hope
Visions of an earlier me
in shredded photographs
seen through shrouded memory
on jagged broken paths
Odd pieces of a jigsaw
which doesn't fit together
houses built from sticks and straw
that can't withstand the weather
Slivers of my life I see
and never the whole drawing
fractured, poignant, lonely me
waiting for new dawning
Remnants in time half recalled
the ragged ending frays
into the mists of pain, life stalled
the darkening of my days
A child's painting, black on black
and grotesque mouths that swallow
shouting, screaming, reaching back
to kill me in its hollow
The smell of bread starts me retching
and I wonder why
my life seen through the arrow's fletching
almost makes me cry
When sunlight streams through windows
and fragments fill my soul.
I wonder who will mend this doll
and start to make me whole.
Too soon to feel, my bleeding heart, if I can love again
To see if passion, beyond tears will triumph over pain.
To soon to know, my battered mind, if grief will still my pride
And I unquestioning become a still small voice inside.
Too soon to see, my aching eyes, the glory or the bliss
To sense the beauty of the skies, beyond this blind abyss.
Too soon to tell my downcast mouth, if I can shout out praise
And take a fragment of your joy to help me all my days.
Too soon to hear the words of grace, that plummet on my mind
To hear beyond the callous grief, that makes me deaf and blind.
Too soon to live victorious, to know the joy of peace
I'll look for other ways of calm, and seek a sweet release.
Too soon to feel, my bleeding heart, if I can take the pain
Cocooned in shock how much of me, will later still remain.
Too soon to tell if I survive and go on without you
Too soon to know, too soon to tell, too soon I say, too soon.
The Bogey Man
Little children come out to play
I wait in the dark
Upon your innocence I always prey
For I am a shark
Little children softly scream
You'll waken the dead
For I am coming to haunt your dream
While you're in your bed
Little children leave your beds
I wait in the dark
I'll rip out your eyes and cut off your heads
I think it's a lark
Little children cower in fear
I like it like that
I'll shred your voices, make nightmares appear
On your blood grow fat
Little children come out with me
I wait in the dark
Leave behind your life go away free
My truth is so stark.
What do you do when you're fifteen years old
and the boy that you love knocks you out cold
then leaves you?
What do you do when you've turned seventeen
not in the running for homecoming queen,
instead you're with child?
What do you do when after a fight
you go back, to make it alright
and find he's dead.
What if police tell you he died
by the needle crucified
and he meant it?
What if his mother fights with her power
to take the possessions, that make mem'ries flower
and leaves you bereft?
What if the courts won't allow you his name
so that the child you bear, wears the emblem of shame
for the love you had?
What if at eighteen you share love again
only to find, he has secret pain
that he won't share?
What if at nineteen he too dies.
and you find no peace in platitudes, lies
so you go on alone?
What if the things that you hold dear
are also the things, which cause shedding tears
to touch your heart?
What if your family won't understand
the need for true love, in the hand of a man
to make you whole?
What if each lover turns out to be
looking for a mother and not seeing thee
as you blend in?
What if alone you're destined to be
sharing your life, your mystery
with only your son?
How do you cope, manage each day
when you've lost hope, it's drifted away
but still there's desire?
Rule of Robert
He always was a drifter
he stayed with us a while
an emotional sifter
I seldom saw him smile
He was introspective
he kept his secrets well
and his own perspective
well, he'd never tell!
He disliked the placement
in fact, hated it like hell
but when he'd gone, he'd call me up
to say things were ill or well.
He often took advantage
of my good natured care
call me up at three am
to drive him here or there
and sometimes when in trouble
he'd ask for my rescue
once we got blind drunk together
'cause he was feeling blue
although I never asked him
what he thought about his life
I sometimes got small glimpses
of existence hemmed by strife
he disappeared one evening
said he couldn't stay at all
and as we had been arguing
I was glad to quits, it call
I was sorry when he left
and took his precious life
he echoes in my memory in others,
where Robert's rule is rife.
Trust is such a simple word, used too often though
Relationships depend on it, to make the passion flow
Understanding comes from trust, it's something we all know
Still we open our hearts hoping with trust, to see love grow
Till once again we move along, begin to trust in seeds we sow
In me-a cinquian round
CENTER> In me
There is no sun
Just memories of him
And the time we were together
I touched the sky
Basking in the sunshine
Seen through his eyes, touched by his lips
My heart is now
Praying for the summer
Looking for warmth, I know can be
Pits of Despair
Dancing round pits of despair
the abyss is ever near
sometimes sprightly footwork there
can help me to roll clear
I warily, skip around the edge
with blurred, shuffle of quick feet
it's like sliding, along a ledge
and I never will, dare sleep
from anxiety-ridden crisis
I wildly, flailingly, spin
till overcome by darkness
concede defeat, and just give in.
the howling pits beside me stay
seeking to devour
apprehension grows day by day
waiting for the hour.
Some days I am lucky
avoid the pits and then
they await to strike me
and cast me down again
and I'm never free of them
of their seducing sway
they find my cold, dark, hidey holes
though I run, run ,run away
my life is spent in torment, all
when I succumb to the thrall
and darkness, always stays.
See Me, Feel me, Touch me, Heal me
See me, feel me, touch me, heal me
Based on the song from Tommy
See me please, before I disappear
It can bring heart's ease when you're drawing near
I work so hard to go away every single day
But when you simply see me, I know I have to stay
See the real me is my desperate plea
Feel me in my lines of poetry so clear
I need to know you're moved, it can keep me here
I struggle with my feelings it's not a game I play
But when you can feel me, it helps keep pain at bay
Feel me is my plea, and see the real me
Touch me for I'm so alone, with no one that's dear
And isolation burns, with every lonely tear
Immolate, incarcerate, a prison on my way
I need someone to touch me, or love me anyway
Touching I can feel, can make me seem so real
Heal me, my self-medicate, cannot hide the sear
Of my pain filled spirit that lets me disappear
Healing touch your gift to me, to help me through this day
Healing love is what I crave, to show the path, the way
I need a touch of heal, encourage me to feel
See me, feel me, show me grace
That I might walk an easier pace
Touch me, heal, me in life's race
Let me know beauty of love's face
That I may be made real, integrated in appeal