pinnochio. pinnochio.
i'll keep you on your toes.
tiptoe. tiptoe.
barefeet
splashing through the wet concrete.
and we'll watch the rain fall
catching on your curls
sliding off my smile
and its you and i
in this chlorinated depth
magic water beings
listening to a thousand kisses
break the liquid skin
hearing the remnants of lightning
they carried with them
in their grey bags of travel
crackle along the edges
and oh you are glowing
and oh so am i
welcome to this
our rainy day
our one day hideaway
and we wonder
why we haven't done this before
where we could have been
if we had discovered we were friends
years ago.
3 comments:
I love this poem. I really dont know why tho. there's just something about it that seems to apply to me personally - i cant tell what tho. oh well, i guess people apply great works to their own lives all the time.:D tis amazing - hopefully it is a window to the future
haha you silly child.
you know its all about you.
SUMMER 2009 BABY.
we'll turn London upside-down.
There are no lies to make my nose grow
There are just goodbyes and never-there tomorrow
And we dance in circles as our faces grow old
And we keep on dancing, dying in the cold
Theres so much pain
This wet driving rain
Stings more than the flash
More than the boom
For those appear quick
And those are gone soon
But this accursed rain drives on and on and on and it just drowns me in grey
I remember well that beautiful street
And I see your white teeth as you laugh as we meet
Is it past or present or was it never at all
It doesn't make sense. Have I had a fall?
I'm dizzy so dizzy and sleepy too
Vertigo's got me so i'll say toodle-do
And go for a walk, go looking for you
But you're gone, gone, gone, why's it all disappearing?
DAMN IT!
If the dirt weren't so dirty and had it not seemed to flirty
In that street i'd have lay on that fair rainy day
And let the warm creep up my toes, up my feet
Into my nose
Eyes close
The moment is perfect, it swallows me whole
I fall up out of the hole
Wake up, bump, low ceiling
It's cold, that warm mud that entices is gone and its cold and there're no arms around me to keep me warm and its cold cold cold
And i still feel muddy, like a worm as it dies on some London street
And everything's a bright shade of grey and it hurts to look
Stop, Stop, Stop, Stop Stop Stopstopstopstop pots
I'll cook
Pan Aux Chocolat
Not the flaky kind but that horrible sort that we tried to make
The sort that tasted so so so good.
And you can eat it
It'll be warm
After every storm
There's A Rainbow
That's where you'll find your pot of gold
Praying for you hannah. Keep going. Just because you can't write it at the moment doesn't mean you won't always be unable to. I love this poem so much. I haven't visited this site in a long time, i must confess. Too long. And i'm terribly sorry for that. I'd forgotten how much i loved your poems.
God bless
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