We warmed the bench with cold stares,
holding onto yesterday’s glass of champagne.
A boy cried somewhere,
loosening his grip on a balloon
that slipped into a sky that never looks back.
Should I pity a crying child,
or an adult swallowing storms in silence?
“I should go,” she said, and
I found my hand reaching for hers,
like a child clinging to his mother
as she nears the grocery counter too soon,
hoping time would stall,
hoping something small could still be saved.
But some things are no-brainers,
inevitable as gravity,
the balloon has flown,
belonging now to no one,
or maybe to everything but us.
The child stopped crying
when his mother placed a bar of chocolate
into his waiting hands.
And I envied him,
because how does a child receive sweetness after sorrow,
while an adult is handed a weapon
and told to be brave instead of held?
No chocolate, no comfort,
just something sharp enough
to silence the trembling.
I guess that’s why
I stand where I stand,
not as someone to be soothed,
but as someone to be used.
I guess
I really am
His favorite soldier.
We call it adult humor
Dressed like late night intellect
But the joke is just a cheap dare
We clap like it’s profound
We claim it’s edgy commentary
Wrapped in clever phrasing
But it’s really playground bravado
Posing as sophistication
We say it’s mature wit
Served with craft beer confidence
But it’s just petty mischief
Wearing a grown up voice
We insist it’s highbrow comedy
Sold as cultural insight
But it’s thin skinned teasing
Masquerading as satire
We pretend we’ve evolved past childishness
Framing jokes as worldly wisdom
But the truth is embarrassingly simple
We never stopped laughing at the easy stuff
As one grows up,
one is becoming an adult.
At least that is what is supposed to happen,
many want to stay as a child.
No responsibilities,
no growing up.
Life can be more effervescent,
in the adult world.
So grow up,
no one knows the harbinger of things to come.
The world has distinctive experiences for a man
And his journey lies in it
To a child, Ice cream is a delight
But not only in taste
An encounter, Admiration, Curiosity and Change.
A real first look at life
The construct entices a person before its flavor
As a growing child, sweet and shining things speak to us
The process meant something to us, to me
The start was only a moment meant for the fun
But as time passed
Emotions we had as kids, unknown to the world problems
Became either you feel or you don't
Like your palate
You outgrow somethings that it becomes nostalgia you didn't know you had
An aching sensation that fills you as you choose
The life of an adult
From Ice cream to Sorbet
From sprinkles to Ice
You become someone you can't recognize
And the people around you have to suffer for it
As the workings of the world wasn't working for you
But you get use to it, and try to understand it more
And see a better reason why some choices left you pillow wet
Are now the reasons a walk seemed better
Than rotting with your feelings
A change necessary but takes a lot from our young selves
Some call it growing up
I call it
Changing my palate
I hope the day death comes and takes me,
it embraces me, holds me right,
and soothes the child in me, who's still crying.
I hope the day death embraces me,
it rains hard
and washes all the hate for myself in my heart
I hope the day death embraces me I
Don't see dead kids inside adults
I hope death embraces me
Because I know a no truer dead corpse than me
I hope the day death embraces
It washes the hate before taking me
I hope the day death embraces me
It makes a false promise
You will be loved unconditionally
Kindness and Love - Adult
by Kevin Davis, 2024
Seek to learn what makes you whole,
The kindness and love that live in your soul.
A whisper gentle, from heavens above,
Guiding your steps with the light of love.
It’s found in a hand that reaches in need,
In the quiet grace of a selfless deed.
It shines in the words that comfort and care,
In prayers unspoken, in moments we share.
Kindness, the bridge that binds us all,
Love, the answer both mighty and small.
Together we weave a tapestry bright,
A lantern to lead through the darkest night.
So, open your heart, let your spirit be free,
Spread kindness and love like waves on the sea.
For in giving, life’s true meaning is shown—
Through kindness and love, our strength is grown.
Keep your face lifted, your smile aglow,
Embrace those around you, let warmth overflow.
Turn from the voices that darken with spite,
They offer no comfort, no joy, no light.
For all hearts seek a way to be whole,
And kindness and love are food for the soul.
So, hold to your values, let goodness remain,
The whisper of heaven will echo again.
I’m sorry miss jackson, my words say I missed you but my body yells it’s something more profound
the thought of your presence has caused multiple body parts of mine to beat louder than HBCU band during homecoming.
I’ve pictured our homecoming, coming back together as one, my ocean only overflowing when you’re in the tide. I ride the waves effortlessly, with no desire to go back to shore
The current is taking me over, drowning me in the sea of all my dark fantasies, all I ask is that you swim into the abyss and join me
Marriage to robots is coming soon
They’re friendly, faithful and cheap
No wedding expenses or honeymoon
As for ‘adult recreation’
No concerns there
vis-a-vis procreation
What's more, robots learn extremely fast
~ so in the sack, they'll last and last
Chi ha colpa del vento che piega la sua vela now raggiungera mai il porto (1)
He lies about the past as it it never came,
My faults,my frailties he magnifies by sly eyes;
He calls me a drama queen,shames when I cries
I never loved him,my being here was just a game.
His friends now and his false idols parade for fame
While every scar,every pain I bear becomes a blade;
He calls my care a fake,the one so unafraid
To drown,overboard,in fire-is assigned the blame.
Now I rise,take back the dignity that'ts mine alone,
March to the river and the mountain for my soul';
Mend my spirit Jordan,bone by ageing bone.
Deny the lies that aim to tighten control.
I am human and mortal,but strong and steady I shall be,
And break these evil chains that cruelly gaslight me.
Emma Watson you're the bomb
Fuse you count as boom
Eyebrows too, you are to me
what every boy can loom
For what you are to high explode
a spy can be your brow
And beaten am I in your presence
I seem to watch you POW!
/
/
/
Quatrain Poem by Trevor McLeod
Eyebrows Emma's steering wheel
Emma to be rush
Tward the roadway met for love
That her leering crush
To a bumper road for be
Pushed into a side
What between her sexy eyes
you'd not bolt - collide
Quatrain Poem by Trevor McLeod
Snod little nose
and pert little chin
Almonds for eyes
and lids for her sin
Hold on her bracelet
And armed to her teeth
That be to Emma
Her trust to her breethe
And that to her couplings
She has to her rark
That as lovers or tailgates
She loveless love's ddark
For what is a mission
She's old Emma What
What a Watson to ending
is a crown layed to cott
Quatrain Poem by Trevor McLeod
Dear Emma Watson,
Your eyebrows power fuel
Your sense of crocodilyism
a fan like me can joule
For what you are to leader
your whip can be to hip
What thrown into your circumstance
you are Too Big for skip
That I express my love to you
to better bite you'd be
For what you are an open jaw
my hesitation me
Quatrain Poem by Trevor McLeod
The pumpkin's name was Emma Watson
The pulp inside her grow
What all inside was mash and tide
of every gin they know
For what's a gin but berried water
a grain would glass-eyed glow
But Emma Watson fit and pride
what even caps turn flow
When questioned eyes are thoughts of joy
and nose no runny quilt
What all patched hands you're stitching up
what forms are meant to guilt
When even odds are flowing out
and in a bitter flask
What lips of seal to all our bottles
are toasted liquour task
To seams of Counts as oversights
are Dracula's at suck
What all the teeth and oily gums
are saturates for luck
To see you drink as any sip
you say a pumpkin's right
Where up your grum's a carried might
your pumpkin's lit tonight
Quatrain Poem by Trevor McLeod
Emma's a gift
Folded box
Red tight ribbon
Bow big talks
Filled with tissue
Packed to strap
Pulled releasing
Boinged for gap
Quatrain poem by Trevor McLeod
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