Recently, the very mysterious Brutus has earned his personal seat by the fireplace, in The Cove. He comes and goes, where? No one knows… But when he visits, he leaves micro poems I love, and since they are in my comment boxes, I was afraid I’d lose track of them…
So here’s the collection of the ones he offered me so far, and the links to the posts that inspired them! I hope you’ll enjoy his way to play with words as much as I do…. And if it is the case, take a moment to visit him down Richmond Road!
A cloud is where it all begins
A vision forming
Vapour thin
Aloud those dreams
Imaginings
When lightning strikes
The heart of things
We both know what the cloud must bring
It rains
It rains. On everything.
*
*
Hear the thunder
From above
The sound of falling
Out of love
Raindrops bursting
Sky of black
From here there is
No turning back
Hearts are broken
Tears are shed
The sheets lay cold
Upon the bed
They can’t be fixed
There is no glue
To reconnect
Both me and you.
So close the curtains
Slam the door
The world won’t see me
Anymore
If not for the technology
Although I’m good at other stuff
I just can’t seem to write enough
I can clean and I can cook
Can’t seem to write this fucking book
And since the world went digital
I can’t do anything at all
Give me a rocket, then I’ll try
To write my message in the sky.
Sweet modesty
And please forgive
The same in me
Put to sleep
Your silly fears
Of fading youth
And passing years
For we are what
We’ve always been
Your beauty
As I’ve always seen
May I spread honey
On your bread?
May I Prepare
Breakfast in bed?
Crayola haïku (Tickle Me Pink)
Passion is a beast
Lighting invisible fires
So that I can see
I hear the birds sing
The first moments of Spring
To you I do red roses bring
So Summer was nice
All sugar and spice
And a moment or two of Paradise
I wait for your call
As Autumn leaves Fall
I wonder if you love me at all
Now the chocolates I sent
Have failed to prevent
The Winter of our discontent
And the taste of those lips
Between slips
Of the tongue
Inhabits my dreams
How I wish
I was young
I met her – mon ami, one day
A waitress. She was French
But had to wash my hands of her
I couldn’t stand the stench.
And
Her eyes kept burning though my skin
I could not douse the flame
Her lips kept eating through my heart
I could not bare the pain
I have a weakness for these things
I have myself to blame
I can’t erase you mon cheri
I confess je t’aime
So many words I cannot write
As I stumble on to death
I’ve felt your thoughts
I’ve felt your heart
Yet never felt your breath.
If life is just a journey
I need a slower car
I’ve seen too many places
On the journey so far
You need to go in both directions
To find out who you are
Before I was a nun
I was a porn star
Hey, she said, we’re made for each other
You and I will always fit
No, you’re not right, it’s a little bit tight
You might have to change just a bit.
Please, she replied, you’re welcome inside
Please call my address your own
I still don’t know, just why I said no
Now my own time is all spent alon
what a cool way to be stalked … 🙂
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Oh yeah 🙂 If that’s stalking… stalk me anytime!!
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Enjoyed these poems immensely! Thanks for the heads up.
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My pleasure 🙂 Brutus is really spoiling me with these! I’m glad to pin them here, for everyone to enjoy 🙂
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Holy Smoke! I just noticed that I have been accused of stalking. There is a first for everything. Ladies and Gents, I assure you that my intentions are honourable. That I may in fact be, a creepy old man, has nothing to do with it.
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wow you get love poems … mine are very different!
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