i want to call you
but my dialing finger is caught
in webs of mental confusion
i want to see you
but i am blinded
by views of moral suspicion
i want to touch you
but my hands are bound
by ropes of lubricious mistrust
i want to feel you
but my body is mired
by needs of wanton play
i want to love you
buy my emotions are trapped
in thoughts of ardent distrust
Although for me your poems are far too self-concerned to venture far into poetry that would interest others, I do think that, as here, your sense of poetic form is developing. But I would urge you not to yawn at punctuation. It can both open up the sense and sound of a line of poetry, and preserve an inner space where the words and ideas can resonate with the reader as they should.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Savannah, this poem tells a truth....and that is what poetry is about......no flowery power, just total honesty, so lay it on thick or thin.....I like your writing style...and this poem works for me....and that is all we can expect from words...