Red Brist

Red Brist Poems

Love never means perfection
If you haven't learned this
You have never been in love
Love is…
...

Lovate Meyume
Enthrush
Extrée desurn
Birdea capsation
...

In the beginning
Supple beauty
Innocence
Sensuality and
...

Recall back the dread
The fear
Recall the incident
The head shaving
...

Whoever would have thought?
Life's purpose
Live
Wait
...

Watch me
Want me
Touch me
Feel me
...

Meerlust turns me back
beautiful Twin Vines
those Luscious Vines of Red Diamond beauty
I tried to force them inside
...

Sharp words
Slice harsh and clean
Standing helplessly
Feeling stupid
...

What has come over me?
I usually keep my cool
Hold back
Or put on a fake face
...

The day does not escape
Without a thought of you
Mind tumbling
Wanting
...

Are you ready now?
Has the wait been long enough?
I do not want new
I do not want old
...

Hard to organize
These draining thoughts
So many times I sit
And nothing develops
...

I visited you
When you were small
Spoke with you
Showed you innocence
...

The essence of this evening
Surprised me non-the least
You talk of the usual
However this time
...

The Best Poem Of Red Brist

Love Never Means Perfection

Love never means perfection
If you haven't learned this
You have never been in love
Love is…
Eating mexican food twice in one week
Even though it's your least favorite
Kissing him while he goes number two
Even though you might gag from the smell
Baking him brown sugar biscuits
Even though you hate to cook anything
Staying up all night discussing life
Even though you are sick for rest
Letting him wipe his tears in your hair
Even though a tissue is on hand
Allowing him to share his fears
Even though you carry the same in secret
The honeymoon stage was short-lived
Anger and heavy defensive undertones
Ruled conversation
Learning
Always captivating
Always stimulating
Leaving a thirst for more
I wanted to hate you because of your gender
Instead
I fell in love with you because of your demeanor
Reigniting trust
Forcing myself out of the picture
Even though the desire to hold you becomes unbearable
My heart still lays open in your sweet palms

Red Brist Comments

Teresa Addison 13 November 2012

Brist's poems are so creative. I mean out of this world imaginative. I mean it must taken her countless hours to put together such a wild compilation of abstract, nonsensical, meaningless stanzas and formations of failed attempts at literary goodness.

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