She leaves me when I wake up, the clouds stroll by my window again. A tear walks down my face, and I get up to make the day start again...
I boil some coffee, put on my favourite shirt. I read the news and moan about the world. I drink the blackness down, it wakes me up - I hit the town.
I wait for buses that splash puddles on me in the rain. I hear the beat of the soul, a sax that numbs the pain. I journey back the city's ways, tell myself I'll be ok.
Walking footpaths on my own, into bookstores with no names. Buying Shakespeare, Edgar Poe, and tickets to hope up on a stage.
Meeting friends, swapping words "Nice to see you" and "Goodbye." Wishing that my mind would flutter, "how are you", or just "hi."
In she walks, all up with angels, eyes of ocean, eyes so bright. In she walks, with little footsteps - my funny valentine.
As someone very recently lucky in love (or rather, lust) I'm not sure whether I'm supposed to be relating to you or pointing at you and laughing?
sssh Karma Great one,
Lust and Love both are Unrequitted.
I like your poems,
I really do
however ever time I read one;
poetic lines I would have chosen
keep popping inot my head.
but I think your stuff is worth reading.
I know it's bad, I know I'm a fool, I know love hurts - but this helps, just a little, enough to keep me going.
Gendo - you can do what you want. It's only here 'cause no one else will listen. If you want me to stop, say the word.
Darth - yours is better, these are just words. "poetic lines I would have chosen
keep popping inot my head." - What do you mean...answers, responses, or better words than mine?
not better different that's all
it's like if you are a chef
and you use garlic a lot.
anytime you eat something
even if you love it,
you know your going to say
outloud or quietly
hmmm could use a bit of garlic.
and if you try the receipt at home,
even if it does not call for it;
you just know dimes to dollars
ther's going to be garlic in it.
:cool:
Nice analogy...a lot of my work recently has been about this girl. It's either that, or political mantra, and unspecific romantic poems - go figure.
What I mean is; is it a happy poem, or a sad poem?
It's a bit sad, a bit happy - sad because she's not what she was, happy cause the future is wide open. I'll update you as it happens :D.