Thine eyes keep me awake
In thine forest I found thy lake
Free birds playing with gay
Chirping upon thy nest's hay
Thine eyes let me see through
A gem crystallized in wonders
Animals gaze at a wake through
Thy name blossoms with ponders
Vibrant rivers wave along
In thine bed where title rests
Winds move along
As sweet scents linger and zests
Thine eyes will triumph and seet
Over storms, floods and turmoils
Grounds will shake at my feet
But thine eyes never despoils
I smell it in small bursts
instantly it delights my nose
it's faint at first,
but going west, stronger it grows.
Soon I find the swath
I cut some and I know
it is the same path
taken by my ancestors long ago.
I laugh and dance
happy to find my own
a patch of seet grass
the great spirit has grown.
Baby, you are so luminous
I can't get you out of my mind
Your image is so continous
Baby, you are my diamond
Your body is my medecine
Together my life is brightened
The way you sway your hair
My body is in a speedy rush
You make my urges hard to bare
You have the best curves
When I make love to you
Time never swurves
Baby, your the best thing in my world
If your seet love would ever leave me
My life would be small and eventually be curled
Baby, i love you so much
I just sit down and cry
How do I deserve you and such
Your kisses remind me everyday
What I got is a gift from God
If ever broken, my life would pay
Baby I love you
Pacific Street
Brooklyn New York 1953
Mud-red clay bricks, hot and worn;
brown-stone blocks carved tenements formed.
Concrete sidewalks slit and cracked
where children skipped a hopscotch tack.
Hear the smack of bats to ball
of palm to rubber against towering walls;
Of jump ropes whooshing through the air
of giggling girls with bouncing hair.
Smell the pretzels salt and sweet,
the chicken soup and borsht to eat.
Bubba’s breast, the rose perfume;
seet cigarette smoke in dark hall rooms.
Taste the vanilla ice cream cone
with chocolate shell that
Dad’s brought home.
The hot red fire ball, candy treats
the egg cream soda down the street.
Do whop Ditty songsters
in August’s heat.
Bubba’s calling from window peaks.
And Tanta’s rocking babies sweet.
Brooklyn, Brooklyn in the street.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.