creative writing-- working with the "pantoun" form. the lines go 1234//2546//5768//7381. it is technically supposed to rhyme, but since i am bad at rhyming, i didn't. i liked playing around with the form so much that i ended up writing three.
like how we probably need each other, and
i can love you, if only i could --
my door is always open for you.
we probably need each other.
i'm sick of sleeping alone --
my door is always open for you --
my bed is cold but your skin is warm.
i'm sick of sleeping alone.
hold me close, baby, and i will do the same.
my bed is cold, but your skin is warm --
as long as you promise not to break me.
hold me close, baby boy, and i will do the same.
(i can love you, if only i could,
as long as you'd promise not to break me.)
oh, if i could only tell you all the things i need to say --
//
your body is a poem liquified.
the singularity of this moment is so sweet.
you crash into me violently
yet touch my skin gently.
the singularity of this moment is so sweet.
we are illegal, disallowed --
you touch my skin gently
and i decide i never want to wake up.
we are illegal, disallowed; and
in the morning you will leave me.
i've decided i never want to wake up --
drown me in this drunken dream.
in the morning, you leave me.
you crashed into me so violently,
drowned me in a drunken dream --
your body was a poem liquified.
//
my baby, you are a prince.
you shine disdainfully --
the winds move on your whim,
and so do i.
you shine disdainfully.
in secret night hours, you are alone,
and so am i.
despair is your forte.
in secret night hours you are alone.
my bed would be warmer if you were there.
but despair is your forte,
and you sing halleujah in the cold.
my bed would be warmer if you were there --
but these winds move on your whim
and you sing halleujah in the cold.
my baby, did you know you are a prince?
Poetry by MiVidaDeEpílogos.
Read 1166 times
Written on 2008-04-19 at 04:12
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Letters To My Lover (That Never Got Mailed).
if i could tell you all the things i need to say--like how we probably need each other, and
i can love you, if only i could --
my door is always open for you.
we probably need each other.
i'm sick of sleeping alone --
my door is always open for you --
my bed is cold but your skin is warm.
i'm sick of sleeping alone.
hold me close, baby, and i will do the same.
my bed is cold, but your skin is warm --
as long as you promise not to break me.
hold me close, baby boy, and i will do the same.
(i can love you, if only i could,
as long as you'd promise not to break me.)
oh, if i could only tell you all the things i need to say --
//
your body is a poem liquified.
the singularity of this moment is so sweet.
you crash into me violently
yet touch my skin gently.
the singularity of this moment is so sweet.
we are illegal, disallowed --
you touch my skin gently
and i decide i never want to wake up.
we are illegal, disallowed; and
in the morning you will leave me.
i've decided i never want to wake up --
drown me in this drunken dream.
in the morning, you leave me.
you crashed into me so violently,
drowned me in a drunken dream --
your body was a poem liquified.
//
my baby, you are a prince.
you shine disdainfully --
the winds move on your whim,
and so do i.
you shine disdainfully.
in secret night hours, you are alone,
and so am i.
despair is your forte.
in secret night hours you are alone.
my bed would be warmer if you were there.
but despair is your forte,
and you sing halleujah in the cold.
my bed would be warmer if you were there --
but these winds move on your whim
and you sing halleujah in the cold.
my baby, did you know you are a prince?
Poetry by MiVidaDeEpílogos.
Read 1166 times
Written on 2008-04-19 at 04:12
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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lastromantichero |
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Elle |
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WildGoose |
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signed. |
