Archive for October 7, 2011

While visiting the priest

While visiting the priest, we watched the caged birds mate
as we sat in the room for tea and cake was served.
My mother did try not to laugh and failed so loud.
I looked for proof the birds were  different gendered

As we sat in the room for tea and cake was served
the mating birds both fell off of their stick and died .
The priest began to cry so bad, that we should leave.

My mother did try not to laugh and failed so loud
that she was heard more than a block away from there
but still before we went we finished tea and cake

I looked for proof the birds were different gendered
their little bodies lying upside down I peaked.
I never did find out, the priest just made us go.

entry for funny bunny fridays post week 3

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Old house, new home – a thriller in verse, parts 1&2 –

part 1:

The room has been with tears and silent prayers,
the cries of ill and weakened soon to die
and ticking clocks that stopped the day they’d leave,
of blinded windows during times of grieve.

The cries of ill and weakened soon to die,
while sunlight shone at dying and deceased.
The room embracing families in black
who said goodbyes to those who won’t come back.

And ticking clocks that stopped the day they’d leave
with dancing dust above the coffin’s lid.
But what of this could she have known at all
when entering the house, the room, the hall.

Of blinded windows during times of grieve,
she doesn’t know, so why is it she cries?
There’s sunshine in the room and children play
yet she feels sad in her new home today.

part 2:

She doesn’t know, so why is it she cries?
She needs to focus on her children’s play.
The family that lived here long ago
had lots of secrets, none for her to know.

There’s sunshine in the room and children play,
so happy they do seem in their new home.
They open cupboard doors, thus finding things
and while they find some treasures, mother sings

yet she feels sad in her new home today,
as if an unseen hand tries smothering her.
The children enter and are full of joy:
behind the cupboard they’ve found one dead boy.

… to be continued…

Why I want you

The curve your neck makes to your shoulders
moves me, more than making love itself,
it’s how you bend your head

I know that other men
have this curve as well,
I would not want them for it.
The fact you have, is why I want you
to make love to me.
Come on.

The stranger you became

The more I knew you, the stranger you became
who lived between my sheets but not to stay
the night. My lover whom I knew by name
and body, but whose soul was always under way.

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