Of course your idea of happiness
differs to mine,
You and me
we were built with different hands,
designed with different minds.
Of course your idea of happiness
centres around structure,
focuses on stability
Evolves around precise dinner times
daily chats, with the t.v muted
Happiness must be earned
worked for, battled for.
Of course my idea of happiness
spits upon yours,
I am the magnet of your attractions
I am everything you want but despise.
Yes sex is a must, it need not have
to be about trust,
Just a release to control the beast
within me,
Just a way of keeping the dog on it lead.
Yes talk is nice, after a bottle of wine,
or when I feel the need to share my angst.
Dinner is fine, but do not bitter it with the
mention of time,
I am a man, a savage, a poorly tuned radio,
An akward rebellious robot
I malfunction when overloaded.
Of course I love you,
But what is love...........
I really enjoyed reading this one Vincent, a great write, a pouring forth of what one thinks of happiness. I liked the contrast here. Excellently constructed. Love Ernestine XXX
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Vincent...this is another stunner! 'a poorly tuned radio'? That is a golden line if I ever heard one! ! ! ! Bravo! Charles Bukowski would be jealous!