Slightly Blockedby *ghostloveThere's nothing quite so sombre as a virgin pad of paper, which stares upon the writer; tantalisingly unused. Deceptively unmoving, but still its challenge given to the writer, set on proving that her mind can find the words. And oh! To be that writer with her pen ready, a-quiver to lay words upon that paper, fill it all with singing prose. But alas, this writer's broken, with no words worthy of speaking, so she writes this little poem to all sympathetic ears. |
| Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse | ©2008-2012 *ghostlove |
love 1
1
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joy 0
0
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wow 0
0
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mad 0
0
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sad 0
0
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fear 0
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neutral 0
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It's A Bastard It's like a bad boyfriendIt's A Bastard by *ghostlove
picking you up
and dropping you again
never letting you know where you stand
promising you everything will be better and then
throwing you in the dirt once more.
You keep telling yourself that this time
you'll be strong enough to overcome
to get out
but it keeps clawing you back into its dirty clutches
and whispering in your ear that
you will never, never escape.
Dressing Up My Dead Girlfriend I always hated overused clichés. "Strawberry-tipped nipples" for example, is one which all erotic writers fall back on at some point or another, but in Mia's case it was true. Hers were the exact shape of the smaller end of a strawberry, though perhaps a little deeper in colour, and had I ever just bitten a little deeper I could imagine my teeth sinking through soft flesh, the sweet sticky juice spraying over my tongue, water springing from my taste buds as the powerful sweetness spread over my tongue.Dressing Up My Dead Girlfriend by *ghostlove
That was the first thing I noticed as I gazed over the lifeless body before me. Those once-pink rosebuds now had a bluish-purple
Pox I'm sitting on a filthy crumb-filled carpetPox by *ghostlove
full of ground-in raisins and toast crumbs
wearing a yellow hard-hat several sizes too small
and I wouldn't be anywhere else.
I've been awake all night; cuddling and singing
stumbling from one room to another, desperate
to fix it all and failing in my every effort
but I wouldn't have been anywhere else.
We play monotonously. Car goes up, car goes down
and a small commanding voice directs the action
and I am tired, so tired I don't understand the game
but I wouldn't be anywhere else.
I receive a kiss, more snot than lips, without thinking
I wipe his nose and mouth with my hands, deposit
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