And I haven't shown many people, but those whom have read it say that some of it's passable if not quite Shakespeare. With my 150th post looming, I feel a little something a little lighter than usual can't hurt.
I haven't written any 'poetry' in years...I still use my words, and I'd like to think that on occasion there is a certain degree of poetry to some of it, but that's just my opinion...(no, I think you're right...there is a degree of wordsmithery if not quite poetry about some of your posts-Ed)...our posts...I can't take all the credit...(why thankyou...isn't this so very civilised and polite-Ed)...yes, can't see it lasting myself...(mmm, neither can I-Ed)...
Good, bad, or indifferent, I'm not sure whether I could even write 'poetry' anymore. I feel a bit like a meteorite ploughing into the atmosphere and chunks are just breaking off and disintegrating behind me somewhere and possibly 'poetry' is one of those chunks.
So as not to freak people out too much, I'll use a fairly 'main-stream' poem...a 'love' poem if you will...
In a previous post I briefly described a peiod of my life where I was working part-time nights in Adelaide whilst living in a caravan in Mt Gambier, and so it was that I came to be buying fish and chips for lunch one day at a small set of shops in Glenelg South, when I happened upon one of the most beautiful women I'd ever met...in the Pet Supplies shop next door...(ain't it always the way-Ed)...indeed it is...indeed it is...
In Light Of You
Bumbling tongue trips itself up
endeavouring simply to converse,
and how am I going to
utter those much harder words
to wit will you go out
into tonight with me; the
full lips smile only ever
underlined by the stunning
luscious goddess that surrounds them.
"But my babies need me tonight..."
envelops me with the simple delight
conjured fom your mention of
offspring ahead of the lucky bast...
man in your life; and I can easily
envisage how beautiful the
siblings of your creation.
Just had to engage you in some conversation
under the guise of interest in doggy supplies,
so staring into the dark eyes and falling
to desire beyond simply lusting.
A woman so defining womanness...
When will the perfect picture ever fade
of the dark cascading locks falling to
roll across ample bosom in framing the
distinct beauty that is you.
03 September 1998
and the trick is the title
followed by the letter
beginning each line together
to spell out the bewitching
I now seek to exercise.......
I remember writing this of course, but the whole experience exists in the memory of a person who largely doesn't exist anymore...I've lost the naivety, stupidity, optimism, call it what you will, that allows a person to kid themselves that there is any such thing as desire beyond simply lusting...(heavy dude-Ed)
It is also one of many, many conversations I've had with women where they neglect to mention their partner until well into the discourse...usually not until I ask them out...(is that the 'brutally handsome bordering on strategically shaved ape' thing you mentioned in a previous post?-Ed)...yes...yes, I believe that it is...(I am assuming of course that you are capable of having a conversation with a woman without asking her out-Ed)..........(hello?-Ed).........(hello?...where's he gone?-Ed).........(what do you mean he left?-Ed)
This Arvo: The Border Watch and Council 'Consultation'
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