Like an obedient child,
I wait. I wait.
Tomorrow, will you?
At a friend's party.
...
He is all about subtleties -
Half smiles, off-whites on cinco de mayo;
He gets around with restraint,
A sneaky shadow in a crowd!
...
Time has never been this slow..
Each second, I get crushed -
If only that when I wake up
I've already served a tnousand sleeps!
...
Today, I marry my eccentricity.
I am done tiptoeing!
To fit in and ravish the same fruit,
Got me bewildered. Oh, insecurity!
...
Don't stare at the mists in my eyes
they are not children of grief;
don't embarrass me by prying
I would rather you look away.
...
I anticipate disaster
before it bumps into my way;
gradually accumulated
the stress wrinkles.
...
An agreement of minds
convene; all of them
dressed in suits and ties
to discuss by which
...
I will sing to you a song
that nobody sang to me~
melody that would have
made me cry and smile.
...
let it be known to Sorrow
that I've reopened to smile -
Inspite of its ritual calling,
that I dwell and share his cries.
...
I got stabbed a few times
Because I was idiot and willing!
Fearlessly chasing Happiness,
And it taunted my desperation.
...
The strong scent of coffee
Is my soul's favored company;
Such a warm comfort trickle its way
Of bitter, to find its way to sweet!
...
Happy is a weather of the day
not a season, not a brand.
It is the clouds that tease the sun
randomness of a child.
...
I have a bag of seashells
Collected from acres of sand
Sums up my walk's treasure
At my abode, an idle land
...
Hooked into this habit,
staying up late, two AM;
my lover drools on my pillow;
I watch his dreaming state.
...
His fingers are brittle and yellow,
those veins are fat and nagging;
his hands are thick and rough,
and they shake when he speaks.
...
Obsessed with a thought
teasing, he daunts
some divine sleeps,
postpones a feast,
...
My love is a red wine,
preserved its taste
by years - to spare -
for such exclusive lips.
...
I Wait
Like an obedient child,
I wait. I wait.
Tomorrow, will you?
At a friend's party.
I despise dreaming
because they're lies;
sweet hearts' tales
gone by breakfast.
Perhaps i should be
satisfied with gazes;
for your lips are frozen,
stitched and dead.
Soft and subtle, strong and fierce -her poetry leads me in delightful circles, leaving me dizzy, drunk and sated.
I only dance with women with visions, and Melanie Agua - aquacious female poet - has one. keep raising the bar. thump the divide. your saucy subdued wit is not going unnoticed. sjg x
This POLLUTION is Mrs JUDITH ELIZABETH BLATHERWICK AGED 54 old hag- - - - - - -