Our back cupboard, the one which lies above
the microwave, houses backup coffee
cups, with faded image of turtle doves
or like the camel cup just unwieldy.
Others with flaws, cracks or broken handles
patiently waiting for someday repair
holding memories some might say shambles
patiently waiting for someday repair.
Categories:
canzonetta, memory,
Form: Rhyme
This poem is really a Canzonetta Prime in Pentameter meter
The bay is free of sailing ships this day,
for the weather is not good so we sit
inside the small café out of harm’s way.
We drink a glass of wine and smoke a bit,
she’s not young but I’m not so young either.
This is a nice place until rain might quit,
but rain, wind to stop I wanted neither,
and missing the tide I cared not a whit.
I like Patros Place , it’s close to the shore
where I can see my ship, the brig Sunlit.
It rests at anchor out a league or more
with this day’s harbor master’s signed permit.
I take her hand in mine and ask a word,
her face takes on a smile, eyes brightly lit.
Maria’s wine response seemed slightly slurred,
being little drunk I cared not a whit.
Lady wanted to visit my brig soon
It seemed my quiet asking was a hit.
I told her after rain we’d go at noon,
but before rain stopped I could not commit.
This then was the chosen time I preferred,
to decision Maria did submit.
Her small smile agreed it would be absurd,
agreeing or not, I cared not a whit.
Categories:
canzonetta, romance,
Form: Rhyme
I don’t mind holding your hand
as we walk together down this lane.
I rather think the feeling’s grand
and I hope there won’t be any rain.
I have an umbrella with little catch
in case the weather becomes a pain
We’ll stay on the walk and be a match,
Whatever the day I’ll not complain.
Two hearts as one you and I
Our talk will be of things not bane
I’ll tell you that for you I’ll buy
A little golden broach and necklace chain
You’ll squeeze my hand with excited smile
I know for you they’re the things most main.
Things of gold and chokers silver style
Whatever the day I’ll not complain.
Categories:
canzonetta, romance,
Form: Rhyme
Canzonetta
-elected-
True love is just another useless word,
So I accept this low-class life of mine.
There's no true love in this world,
So I do my best to cross the line.
With wires of pleasure spiking through,
Go figure, I erupt with nothing but lies.
I was numb before, so I don't feel you,
The elected miracle simply dies.
Breaking apart all of my thoughts,
I scream and shout out my misery.
The low-class future that connects the dots,
A disregarded human, that's all I see.
With wires of pleasure spiking through,
Go figure, I erupt with nothing but lies.
The thing that I once held close,
The elected miracle simply dies.
Accepting defeat, that's all I know now,
So I've accepted the low-class future.
I can't do anything to break the flow,
And I can't destroy this creature.
With wires of pleasure spiking through,
Go figure, I erupt with nothing but lies.
This thing that is what I was,
The elected miracle simply dies.
Categories:
canzonetta, abortion, absence, abuse, birth,
Form: I do not know?