|
Details |
Yort Watson Poem
Rachel
Rachel, sweetest looking peach on such a high branch
A teasing sway in her round hips, full of undiluted
gorgeous femininity
Eyes as blue as sky and a voice that is felt all over,
more like a warm breeze than sound
Aesop might recommend the lesson of the sour grapes,
but his Greek eyes never saw such a perfect
northern beauty as Rachel. He would have to
eat his words and tell his tale in reverse; how this unreachable
treasure made all the low hanging fruit taste sour
Damn!
Copyright © Yort Watson | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Yort Watson Poem
Some friends aren’t forever
This is as far as we go
We’ll exchange dishonest smiles
Ignoring what we both know
You’ll say “See you later”, one last time
You’ll give me your number, and I’ll give you mine
but we won’t call and we won’t meet
though you think I’m funny and I think you’re sweet
Your company has done me good
We’ve talked much longer than we should
From the dark a face watches, the shades are drawn
my home life waits with the porch light on
and the gloom of “if” will hide the track
the many miles that I walk back
Copyright © Yort Watson | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Yort Watson Poem
I can tell you want to talk, but don’t know what to say
I better think of something quick, before you go away
I wonder if you think about me, when I’m out of sight
I think about you all the time and can’t get sleep at night
I want to kiss you as you stand there looking at the floor
I want to draw my office shades and have you ask for more
I could be wrong that you like me, a fate much worse than death
So I’ll just talk about the weather, until I’m out of breath
Copyright © Yort Watson | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Yort Watson Poem
Fourteen-thousand years ago, a devil played a game
In his garden with an angel whom I shall not name.
The angel won or so he thought, “Now you must pay what’s due”
I’ll take your mirr’, your favorite one, and break the thing in two.
The mirror was a magic one of evil dark and black
“The beauty of a perfect world, now what’s the fun in that?
This one’s far better, it twist, it pulls it shrinks before my eyes.
Instead of showing true reflections, this one shows me lies”
“I’ll tell you what, you won it fair, it’s yours but let’s do more;
I’ll help you break it here and now and it will be no more.”
The angel smashed it into two, his hammer in his hand.
“But why stop there?”, the devil said and smashed it into sand
The Devil grinned, “Good work my friend. See, I don’t even care”
He scooped a handful of the dust and blew it in the air.
Among the people of the earth, the grains of mirror blew.
The angel warned them “Close your eyes!” and blew his trumpet too
“What gift is this?” some people thought, Eve’s lesson was not learned.
and soon awoke with crusty eyes that itched and teared and burned.
“I see it now!” the faithless said “I am no longer blind!”
“Don’t be cross” the devil said, "Their eyes see now like mine".
Some were seized with a panicked fear, “The enemy is nigh!”,
and with cruel rocks marched on their neighbors and sentenced them to die.
Others were charmed by shiny stones “Supplies are running out!”
The simple gifts that God had given were left to lay about.
Some saw themselves with grandeur high “I’ll wear this mighty crown”,
I’ll be the King, you be the serf, and bow when I’m around.
The other ones yoked to the plow, “These types aren’t men at all”.
I’ll tolerate your presence if you're at my beck-and -call.
Of arrogance and fear and greed the mighty nations grew.
And men would starve and wars would rage for these unfaithful few.
So hear me now you righteous ones whom the devils would refuse:
In the game of life Good always wins, but bad will never lose.
Copyright © Yort Watson | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Yort Watson Poem
Sapphire eyes sparkle.
Cheeks glow a deeper shade of perfect.
Pink lipstick glistens
..on lips pulled to a smile over sugar-white teeth.
You think I’m funny.
I think you are impossibly more beautiful now.
Your smile grows lusty
..to a laugh, unplanned, playful, and luscious.
I fall silent with a desperate need
to make you laugh again.
My magic is gone.
Copyright © Yort Watson | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Yort Watson Poem
Creaking floorboards, kettle sighing
while the world’s asleep and dying
In the darkness that is dawning
grows a weed under the awning
Phosphorescent weed of night
makes the shadows of what might -
have been with more of that or this
More courage or less foolishness
A perfumed spell wafts from its flowers
brings blindness to what’s good of ours
It lines the paths so darkly tempting
to places lost through paths unending
And each new route down which I skitter
l find more weeds my path to litter
Fresh regrets more overgrown
And all from seeds that I have sown
Copyright © Yort Watson | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Yort Watson Poem
My Tall, Tan, Sunflower Girl
Smelling like coconuts and cocoa butter
My eyes Follow your tan lines
..under your simple cotton dress
What must they taste like?
Copyright © Yort Watson | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Yort Watson Poem
I knew a girl named ______
I saw her every day
I told her that I loved her
and now she runs away
I guess I didn’t love her
we won’t be getting hitched
for how could I have been in love
with such a silly _______?
Copyright © Yort Watson | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Yort Watson Poem
In the twilight of a Summer day
In a barren place far, far away
I came upon a yellow flower among the rocks and scree
Through great strain she pushed through the stones
..and in this blight she made a home
She made me smile as I looked down and she looked up at me
A thing of beauty so misplaced
No palace garden or jeweled case
Just me and her out in the wastes, what is, but shouldn’t be
Copyright © Yort Watson | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Yort Watson Poem
Clumsey, rough, unkind woman
On long winter’s nights, under the blankets lies your cold heart. A coiled serpent calculating it’s next move from its frozen state. I am just a pair of hands and legs it needs, trained with the burn of venom. You know how to feed me just enough of what feels like love to keep me from leaving. A carefully calculated amount weighed against the loneliness that waits outside the door, ready to possess my mind like a madness. A terror I cannot face. So your venom withers my soul just a little more.
Copyright © Yort Watson | Year Posted 2014
|
|