Array ( [sid] => 180211 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Boxes Are Boring [time] => 2015-01-04 19:16:04 [hometext] => Man, poetry should always be fun; foist and foimoist! [bodytext] => I'll admit as much to you-
those I know so well but not at all-
my wife of late took to work-
left me to my own devices-
(my years of flimsy reeds..stabilities [bless she] need)-
she should know better, dammit-
I'm not one to be left alone,
But she doesn't....so ram it,
that blessing fallow in a concrete hold.

A stew I am, simmering always
but she minds the pot of me,
blindly stirring as required
to keep splatters (mine) at bay-
a shimmering net even she holds unawares,
ignorant of sway-
beauty, ah, my beauty, knowing not in silent smiling flay.

To curtail (and only I can tell and fail)
her power is to castrate and doom me
to the deepest valley of aught redeem;
National Geographic (Times Square, for all I care)
determined- (even then, yes)
to make me a clown fish,
the more to render I a dream. [comments] => 5 [counter] => 260 [topic] => 48 [informant] => Invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Boxes Are Boring


Boxes Are Boring
Date: Sunday, 4th January 2015 @ 07:16:04 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Invierno
I'll admit as much to you-
those I know so well but not at all-
my wife of late took to work-
left me to my own devices-
(my years of flimsy reeds..stabilities [bless she] need)-
she should know better, dammit-
I'm not one to be left alone,
But she doesn't....so ram it,
that blessing fallow in a concrete hold.

A stew I am, simmering always
but she minds the pot of me,
blindly stirring as required
to keep splatters (mine) at bay-
a shimmering net even she holds unawares,
ignorant of sway-
beauty, ah, my beauty, knowing not in silent smiling flay.

To curtail (and only I can tell and fail)
her power is to castrate and doom me
to the deepest valley of aught redeem;
National Geographic (Times Square, for all I care)
determined- (even then, yes)
to make me a clown fish,
the more to render I a dream.

This poem is Copyright © Invierno


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