I wanna buy you flowers
I wanna see the sun in those big brown eyes
I wanna see a movie
I wanna carve a house for you out of stone
I wanna pull the stars into the shape of your face
I wanna level a city block and plant trees just so you can have a nice place to sit and eat little sandwiches
I wanna kiss you
right as you fall asleep
I wanna get better
white winter coat
first of frosty ground
sneaks in quietly with fear
does it's sagging bit
first snow gently falls
warning of growing power
to bury what's green
snow in strength of time
potentially deepens for
smothering landslide
Copyright, Kathryn Search
You speak without words,
talk slowly, with fingertips
gorging on my soul;
As you strum I start to hum
sighing ever so sweetly;
Diabolical,
your anger excited me;
A moth to a flame,
ecstasy a brief smother
with that dark velour blanket;
Empty, crying out
my sound quiets the silence;
Subdues the restlessness
over and over again;
Now you know I’m a psycho.
Just like you .
We begin the zoom call
I only look at myself
Most of me is taken up
With the bedroom window
I imagine a large
Serpentine creature
Of folklore at the window
That only I can see
I imagine a cassowary
At the window next
Then some boiled nudes
A Texas blind salamander
Without the moon
There would be no nighttime
There are some the size
Of washing machines
A friend sends me a message
He doesn't believe in spacewalks
He believes in three days at the gym
Followed by loud reading
Hate's got its benefits
Each party going their seperate way
Where partly knowing their's is best
means others can't consway
When all is lost to each and all
for coming back together
for what was lost to righteousness
when each was sure to plether
As all who know to not come back
leaves lives meant for each other
When all Dear Johns have hope to live
apart from those who smother
accumulation
choking the room bitterly
an embarrassment
carefully tromping through it
side-stepping junk gingerly
My pack rack eye-tis
surrounds me untidily
disturbing eyesore
jumping over largest pile
not inviting company
often i wonder in my vivid dreams
when your fragrance sooth
my soul
and my whole existence depends
on your
breath
did i love you enough
enough
to smother you
when i look into your eyes the depth infinite
i fear that i drown in the sea
of love
your face the radiance you spread
fills me
then i get lost in the mist of love
the kindness the smile which resurrects
dead men from their
graves
the light at the end of the tunnel of death
did i see it do i deserve it
i really dont
know
~~~##~~~
keep love in sight
not too tight, then
it might flourish
~~~##~~~
Slip the glove onto my skin,
Touch my skin please,
For your warmth I yearn,
This glove that has barricaded my soul,
Has left me unattached,
Leaving me and you strangers,
You stand next to me,
But the essence of you I do not sense,
Rain falls on my face but my skin stays dry like the Nile,
This votive glove you have given me without malice,
Has forfeit my life into the lonely wolf,
Walking through the snow unable to feel the cold crysta flakesl,
Protection is your gift but solitude is the curse,
At dawn I can not longer enjoy the gentle wind
As it use to kiss upon my face,
And sound of music is heard
But can not longer enter my soul,
Kiss me
The passion of your kiss is now a memory,
Falling into darkness I search for you
But I can no longer feel your hand
If you are there then leave me in darkness,
For this has left me blind
This glove that is now permanent ink on my skin,,
Has stolen you from me
Leaving me and you strangers...........
Hams of August Smother
The folks are angry, really.
They can’t explain the diaper,
yet they would explain poor Jack.
It’s a plot, you see, to show
poor Jack’s been had.
Folks can’t see why
no matter what Jack does,
even if he scrubs
in water warm enough
to soften turnips,
sheathes himself
in eaus, colognes,
dons, perhaps, a silk of talc,
folks can’t see why the night
still squats on Jack,
jiggling its hams
of August smother.
Or why the cleric in the courtyard
chants, ”Elements of Jack
will always reek.”
It’s a plot, you see, to show
poor Jack’s been had. That’s why
the folks are angry, really;
they can’t explain the diaper,
yet they would explain poor Jack.
Donal Mahoney
I grab the holder of my secrets, and dip him into black then red.
I do not mix them, so when I stroke my reveal; they accompany one another.
I wish it was easier to speak as others would, but instead I let myself shed.
without words and a knife, I bleed myself on this canvas, and let my brush smother.
I don't need all this attention
Caused by some miscomprehension;
I can feel the anvil pressing down
To smother me like this is.
Such contact lingers cloying,
Out of order, so annoying;
I am being buried underground,
Don't smother me with kisses.
I desire greater space,
Cannot stand it in my face;
Claustrophobia billows in my head
To smother me so sweetly.
Understand I seek reprieve,
Back off slightly, let me breathe;
Or friendship is as good as dead:
Don't smother me completely.
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.