You asked me once what it was I want
but what I need is more prescient
I need to live your love expressed
comfortable, painful, beautiful
I believe that we are meant to be
I need you now and always to know
Life with any other is a lie
Built to hide the truth impossibly.
For a time I rudely attempted
To love enough for the both of us
But on comatose reflection
I discovered I had drowned your voice.
I am ready to hear you again
Over the din of my strident heart.
I apologise for each hurdle
That we are oft forced to overcome
Though I treasure each experience
As growth has flourished in we through us.
Destiny proffers a range of choice
For our exertion to exploit.
I ask us to seep through the iced block
And sink into the blissful depths
Where our effulgent cores beat in step
With good playfully bound in passion.
To achieve a time where we construct
Dreams to reality for all
Until with age we are surrounded
In libraries of truth now practiced
Telling stories to our abundant
Grand-children, eagerly drinking bliss.
In love, remorse, and calm gratitude
Flowering in your rich hearts' garden.
Sincerely,
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10 comments:
Whats that all about??!
WTF?
Here's one:
There was a young fellow named perkin
Who was always jerkin his gherkin
His father said perkin
Stop jerkin your gherkin
Your gherkins fer ferkin not jerkin
There was a young man from Uppingham
Who stood on the bridge at Buckingham
And looked at the stunts of the cunts in the punts
And the tricks of the pricks a'fucking 'em
That's wicked... and I'm honoured to be included! By the way, I love poetry too and it is annoying how it is perceived. Check out http://www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer/minstrels/poems/18.html , just discovered it the other day on a Jah Wobble track.
Great link!
Have we finally found a space where Igotlife has nothing to say?
Must have no heart ;)
Do you read them in the Sun, you knuckle-dragging neandethal?!
Who says there is no music ;)
Just tap your knuckles on the table... 1...2...1...2...1...2 and whistle every third beat as you say the poem.
The recording I've got is the shit, to use the parlance of our times. It's half-sung half-ranted by some gruff old scot, all backed with some evil sounding bagpipes... not exactly chart-friendly!
I think you two should get together and read poetry to each other...got a pretty good idea no-one else will wanna hear it.
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