Biography of eddie frelford
i have always been one that has drowned in words, they keep me alive and ironically afloat, yet subsequently draw me closer to death.
in all honesty, even though i write these poems, they only exist because there is a certain someone out there that makes me breathe.
were it not for their existence, i would not write poetry.
were it not for them,
there would not be me.
i thank them,
in silence and slumber.
eddie frelford Poems
Penguins In Overcoats (title attributed ...
She was dressed in a relationship that didn't suit her style pressed in a circumstance that didn't fit her eyes
Tulips From Amsterdam
T he first time in my whole life where i U nderstood true happens arrived when i L earnt it was sharing beautiful moments with you. I never knew it possible for the world to appear so
Get Wet (a poem in 49 seconds)
i get wet, can't forget the way your perfect eyes met my weak knees,
i could tell you i love you in sign language, in the hope those who see could not read? i could tell you i love you in braille
The Fragility Of Clay
This is my relaity. i love. without doubt one of my best friends
love is laughing through bad stomach and kidney pains, love is halving each problem into multi grains love is the avoidance of joining separate lanes love is all
Port Wine Stain
When i kissed you in that light felt the Port Wine, stain my mind seemed like we shared blood from then in my mind, we danced in bed
i love how you slept so genuinely placid beside thee, and i feel your presence now. signiature scents immersed from your body remain on my fingers and bones as i type leading me to higher climbs, and resounding depths,
love is a seraph
love is wishing you had the chest pains, in the hope she would somehow feel them less love is helping burning fingers, pick up stewy mess
how can the present you show me what i want my future to be? how can the past memories of never holding you be offered now like a present to my gaping arms?
Orange And Silver
orange and silver tiebacks, encase old words we know on this walk, as ever in the hope of the unknown.
people think its nutritious with money having the freedom to go wherever they please with the money that they earn. but with money comes
The moon, swoons to you without song it looms around you, wanting to cradle you,
In Green Melted Yellows
it was in green melted yellows
amid branches of rhyme,
hidden leaves of moisture
at the dryest of times
where i first let unspoken lips,
speak for the mind.
in green melted yellows
betwixt with bananas and thyme
and old dying man sighed