Wednesday, August 16, 2006

If

If I laughed when I had the chance
If I did when you asked me to dance
If no-one were watching us
If time was not stalking us
If all that was wrong turned right
If we we could be alone tonight
If hearts were never broken
If there were no words left unspoken
If not a glistening tear shed
If tomorrow I don't wake from bed
If your eyes didn't betray the truth
If we could drink from a fountain of youth
If money moved not a man
If only they would understand
If a kiss could bring me to life
If blood never dripped from a knife
If the world stopped going round
If we could run away and never be found
If my every wish were granted true
I'd only wish to stay with you.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Sharing Blood

To my favourite tune I sing along
Is he psychic?
He walks in humming the exact song
That's how I know
Me and my bro
Share blood
I fight with the little tyke
For the T.V. remote
Whoa! It's the same channel we like
Did you know
Me and my bro
Share blood.
All set for the jamming party
But to get embarrassed
I notice our identical jeans and tees
It goes to show
Me and my bro
Share blood
Dreaded day at the clinic
What are the results?
O+ve after the needle prick
Now everyone knows
Me and my bro
Share blood

Sunday, August 06, 2006

Give Us A Minute

Each day, the clocks run on
Our filtered conversations others watch upon
Needing escape from this world, moribund
To where our hearts beat as one sound

A minute to drown in your eyes, deep
From curiosity that stealthily creeps
A minute to lie in your open arms,
Safe from a world of scathing harm

To speak uncensored, animated
To curse all the people I've hated
To whisper locked secrets to you and
To melt into the warmth of your hands

Alive will they be, my love
Every moment at night we have dreamed of
Secluded in our far away place
Unhindered by neither time nor space

Soon, we will share time together
The seconds will tick like a falling feather
But each other, nothing will we see
Just a minute, alone, you and me.

Poetry

when language like bubbling streams flow




when words are laid down to fit like lovers' hands




when you feel the essence of the poet from within




when swirling thoughts are caught in the net of rhythm



when images reel as you read




when pen and paper create a symphony




then, it is poetry
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