View Full Version : Poem Shorts One

August 9th, 2008, 3:01 PM
And suddenly her arms were there
Wrap't 'round me once more;
for such a time there were none,
but now I am safe, with her once more.
Timid as those green eyes darting--
A soft hand caressing me.
Touching where hot aches lay
giving what only she could,
then retreating once again, away
Hot tongues of ice whipping at my feet.
That chaotic orchestra playing our theme,
madness within chaos;
ever louder until it breaks
Yet he could love her
and be whole within her
warmth and caress.
So precious beneath me.
A fragile monster of broken beauty.
My porcelain ballerina smeared with scarlet.
Lovely her skin against
the palm of my hand.
Gypsy of my dream and
married to him.
His arms feel so foreign
And his dominance makes me burn
So different from a woman
But yet I never yearn
Storming sea breeze eyes
A buzz cut and no clue
His bullets tell no lies
Crashed in the fighter jet he flew
Calloused, lean, a fighter
He is my man
Soft, delicate, a butterfly
She is my other half
A hasty retreat to her bed
Father, an intruder to our happiness, walks past
She back to me, no words said
We kiss and cuddle and hope this lasts
She is a fallen woman, one who is the night
But I find myself entranced by her sickly sight
This story of a lady humbled to the earth
Urges me to build her self worth
And so, the decision made, I open my door
To this beautiful one time gutter whore
Warm lips on my neck
Heavy breathing from my mouth
A gloved hand roaming
A revolver somewhere else
That stinging pain she loves
My sweet scent confusing her
I want gentle hands, soft eyes
She wants the whip again
…Flowers and masochism
Gazing back into the time before
When his hands weren’t scarlet
And his eyes weren’t cold
When he would love me
Before this angry war
Love is the subtle cherry scent
Coming from her neck
Love is the rocking bed
Making sleepless sounds
Love is this being in my hands
Waiting to call me daddy
Another washed out day of nothing
And a night of I can’t sleep
My pimp says hit the corner
One more wasted day
Loose change dancing in her pocket
She demeaned herself for 90 cents
But for another rail of Coc
She’d kill another man
Blithe is the person beside me
Unaware of my heart that burns
Broken as it lies beneath me
Frightened when the knife turns
Cold and distilled autumn winds
A nostalgic yearning in my gut
His hand no longer over mine
As I lock his coffin shut
In this world of twisted beauty
And of falsely smiling liars
There is no middle ground
No downtime in a war
And a drop of true real love
Face it as it is
And anchor to our cold existence
Or be dead men for not

August 9th, 2008, 6:20 PM
Belongs in the Poetry subforum.