#120
i nod, i agree,
i try to grieve,
to understand your sweat,
struggles, the chains of
your government, the
cage of its passport,
the blankets of hopelessness…
i wish i could help,
truly change the tide,
it feels so dirty sometimes,
to tag along and ride together,
but at least i hear you,
at least i see you, i see
your fight. it inspires me.
i won’t forget.
Young father, poor country.
#121
i’m giving myself the hour,
to sit and not ask why.
i’m giving myself the hour
to watch the Sun rise.
i’m you, so sleepy, but
back beside the sea, the
Sun’s climb to daylight
sits so well with me.
So i’m giving myself the hour,
not to stress about all the
places i think i should be,
and i’ll enjoy this new hour
breathing deeply by the sea.
#122
On the back of the sign,
was a good sign.
And, i felt at ease.
#123
She stuck her head
standing up above the stone
wall, through the bush and brush
waiting for her Romeo,
this sweet dalmatianed Juliet,
his paws for her pause,
their sweet kisses chorused
by our awes.
#124
Laying on a beach,
on an island with friends
in Croatia. Nice folks.
Pure bliss.
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