#575
To pander,
to please,
to bite my tongue
as many have held
their’s for me,
the countless kindnesses
i’ll never know,
the patience,
i’m not quite sure
i’ve ever deserved,
the least i can do is try.
#576
All those unspoken sentences
how they hover and they wait,
some patient- others nip,
and caw,
biting and begging,
until their syllables tumble free
and their wings may take flight,
unburden, unbothered by consequence,
freed from their weighty cage
off up to the heavens,
come clouds,
come rain, come rays,
their lives expressed.
#577
Each ache,
each yearning,
oh but for
another bite,
another taste,
another moment
with that cracking sensation
of fireworks across my lips,
each morning
i wake with that familiar hunger,
and
each morning
i wait,
a little longer.
#578
If misery,
loves poetry,
than
i am all
but lost.
#579
Another fight against the clock,
well past midnight,
well past exhaustion,
ignoring impending alarms
unwilling to admit how sweet
my waiting pillow is,
your waiting breath,
as if a few more minutes
might achieve something,
some profound truth,
some enlightening inspiration,
as if somehow, at
one thirty six in the morning
i’ll work harder than i have
in the other glorious hours
of another squandered day,
as if i could find some dream
in my waking life more
exquisite than behind my
eyelids with you in my arms.
Thanks for joining! Find poems through out the week on my instagram @monsieurwrite
Don’t forget to check out the poems being recited on The Write Stuff podcast!
Take care, call your family, tell them you love them.
wazoo!
-Mr. Write