Her and the Sea

Her and the Sea i

Keep your head down
See nothing but the ground

Take a step towards time
Find what you love and fly

Make haste
Don’t waste

There is a world to see
Mine, misses her the sea



Her and the Sea ii

I adore your crashing sounds
It comes and goes, up and down

The scent you bring as your waves appear
Filling a willing, that she would be here

If the Sea is a wonder because of its depth
She is my muse who has condemned me to death

You see Mr Sea, she like thee, draws me in
I would drown in your abyss, happily for one sin



I am here, you are there, the same moon appears
Every night from new, to full, waning down blue
I think I think, I think and sit, I feel sick
You see there are things in my head, its death
Every thought I have is sad and it makes me mad
To see another child die, fathers, mothers, cry
Enough, enough, when will it be enough?


My Treat

I would give you a hug as I move in close
Give you a kiss to make your eyes close
Open to a new, a world full of hope
Erase a life that weighed to cope
Love would prevail over fear and hate
This moment, could it be our fate
My scent would fill the air
Envelope in arms that care
A beat that repeats in sound
A rhythm, pound for pound
Would knock you off your feet
My sweet, my sweet, my treat


Ink In My Veins

I found ink in my veins
from a cut of a blade
dripped as a line
that turned into a rhyme
the blood dried
soaking up eyes
reading my mind.

I found ink in my veins
from a beating heart
boils with thoughts
exploding in my head
misty heat escapes
blasting breath
leading my mind.

I found ink in my veins
from a pounding brain
shoots a lightning bolt
to spark a fire
burns with words
flaming scarlet red
bleeding my mind.

I found ink in my veins
from a passionate will
craves to speak
a perfect poem
trembling with fear
that ears would hear
heeding my mind.


Kissing You Hard

Two breaths are all it would take…

The first inhale would spasm hard
As it flows through the nose flared
Drawn in by a vision that stuns
Pulled to a step, a step and a run
Exhaling delight at a sight to behold
Sucking back in, the air swelling bold
Filling the lungs with the fuel to propel
Closer and closer, a collision is held
Clutching you madly with one thought in head
Breathing out slowly, kissing you hard, to bed


A Cottontail Hare in a Graveyard Cruise

Scurry about between trees, bushes and cars
Hopping down the street, what’s that? a pause
To see what flashed into view, is it you?
Out at night when the sky is a midnight-blue
Cool May ‘eve that soothes your mellow heart
A solitaire stroll in silent thought held hard
Follow along over curbs and flowering pots
Just to see, where you lead, a sigh! if carrots
Dark is the alleyway, a sense of fear appears
What compels to carry on but with pointed ears
Any rush or sudden jolt, bolt up and hop away
This cottontail hare is aware to keep danger at bay
Unrest spirits lay, row on row marked with a stone
Dried stems in vases once colourful and bold
Forgotten souls left underground and alone
Their visitors now gone to a grave of their own
Flowers sway like the sea does wave
Guarded by angels, with souls to save
Cards and letters, lovely messages written
To the missing of those recently departed
A cottontail hare in a graveyard cruise
Follows along, side by side, a poets muse
Little one with a bushy tail, thank you
As I walk through a cemetery in the company of you


What I love about poetry…

It never dies, it stays in the clouds until one day, it rains down, someone finds it and hopefully smiles.
With kindest words they fill a joy that is felt like sunshine and warm apple pie-ala mode, oh my!

Screaming out with verbs that rhyme creating phrases to pull you in, to hold you tight, to fight.
Describing a moment, yes with pain but to show how courage could change this world filled with hate, oh my!

Is poetry, love? or Is love, poetry? two questions asked in sonnets and songs recited in flowing lyrics.
Both the same in a way, how every line tries to capture curves so sublime, intoxicates the mind, oh my!

Poetry turns on what aches down below where sex stirs and wakes but knows, the real thing rules.
Words could never express the true feeling of sex when thrown into lust because love wins when hot and it’s real, oh my!

Poetry will never die, as long as life continues to thrive, breathing in, out, with a loving heart.
What I love about poetry is that I get to write merde like this, and hope it makes you smile inside, oh my!