stevehawk, 4 lutego 2012
There is a tiny angel,
Locked away
Within a cage of ribs,
Next to my heart.
She whispers to me,
Endlessly.
Sweet Endearments,
Promises,
Never to leave my side.
I ignore her.
But, she is not angry with me.
There is a tiny angel,
Locked away
Within a cage of ribs,
Next to my heart.
She sings to me,
With a voice,
Of pure sweetness and light.
I drown her,
With rivers of alcohol,
I sting her eyes,
With foul tobacco smoke.
I abuse her.
Yet, she continues her song.
There is a tiny angel,
Locked away
Within a cage of ribs,
Next to my heart.
When the nights are cold,
and dark and lonely
Sometimes, I let her out,
We look at one another.
We both smile.
But, only,
For a little while,
The briefest of time
Then I lock her away again.
She does not protest.
There is a tiny angel,
Locked away
Within a cage of ribs,
Next to my heart.
I must keep her hidden.
Never to utter her name.
For such is what life has made me.
My path already trod.
She is my secret.
And, will remain within me,
Till the end.
stevehawk, 4 lutego 2012
The tale of us is at an end
and now all that is left
Is a sad, slow denouement
the dance of love bereft.
All the crises have been resolved
the plot, once thick, has thinned.
Our sets dismantled, stage empty,
because we’ve reached the end.
Our love was but a fantasy
of rainbows and moonbeams,
A dream rent by reality;
loves’ seldom what it seems.
The curtain on our play has closed,
now we play other parts;
Picking up the bits and pieces
left of our shattered hearts.
stevehawk, 2 lutego 2012
I hunger,
For my youth.
For those lazy,
Hazy, crazy,
Sperm-filled days.
When my eyes
Feasted with devilment,
Instead of mockery,
Upon the young
School of nymphs
That swam up
And down the corridors
Like silver darlings
Of the sea
The wonderment
Puzzlement
Of the flesh.
Memories of
Soft bouncy buttocks,
Budding breasts
Licentious legs
That tormented,
Teased, pleased
That frenzied, wild
Stirrings of my loins.
How i loved life then,
With it's silent promise
Of great things to come.
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