Social Confession
Sometimes I will look you up.
Remembering our last farewells.
Your beauty and how it rained inside.
I'll walk down memory lane,
and I wont forget my umbrella.
Because it always rains here.
Wading the deep waters of memory,
I'll find you again.
Faded looks and faded smiles,
echoes of futures that never unfolded.
And I wonder why I'm here.
And where we ever were and if.
Sometimes I will look you up.
Just to see if the years have been kind.
But they seldom are.
And my heart breaks for all that you have lost,
and given to the ungrateful.
When I have naught to give.
Sometimes I will look you up.
Just to torture myself with the past.
And with all I once lost.
And then to lose you again,
as the rain runs down the gutter
with my memories of you.
I pour out a bottle,
put it down on the cobbles,
walk away and never think of you again.
Bay
As your eyes close and you soar away,
as all present pain,
washes off in the rain,
come find me in the shack by the bay,
I shall be there waiting.
Come sit in my arms by the fire,
I'll kiss your wet skin,
and then we can begin,
to do all that your heart might desire,
all you find elating.
Together we'll drink of finest wines,
moist lips shall feel bliss,
as I'll plant a deep kiss,
to where ever desire inclines,
your joy never abating.
Look into my eyes in the gloom,
I'll bring you in tight,
and as day becomes night,
euphoria will sweetly bloom,
our souls elevating.
Worship me and I shall do the same,
bring you pleasures unknown,
place you high upon my throne,
as your spirit cries out my name,
flesh and soul inflating.
Deep inside you my torch will burn,
but never lose it's flame,
putting the sun to shame,
brightly fanned by all for which you yearn,
a new light we are creating.
And until it rises, together we'll grind,
and together we will melt,
and all joy shall be felt,
in the sweet lands of your mind,
I shall be there waiting.
The untimely demise of glamorous amour.
With an aching head and a pickled heart.
I sit on the remnants of Saturday night,
well spread over Sunday.
Ash in my clothes
and a roach in the ashtray.
I lie down and think about you,
orgasmic solutions in a stream
down the inside of my trousers;
Dying seeds of mankind and a bleeding heart
for a love that didn’t last.
Brief recollections of your smiling face and
glimpses of sexual contortion.
Kisses in the springtime rain
are eternity in my soul.