It’s just a simple movie kiss, Nothing more, no sexual bliss. If my hand comes to rest Upon her plump voluptuous breast, And another on her hip While I savour her sweet lips, Please honey, trust me on this, It’s nothing but a movie kiss.
Don’t be fooled by our closed eyes I honestly never get a rise And about the moans you hear All acting honey, do not fear. When we lie naked in bed Don’t let that get into your head It is indeed just an act Believe me babes, it is a fact.
We follow the script faithfully It calls for the kiss to be steamy And as my tongue explores her mouth That’s what acting is all about We make it seem oh so real But darling it’s no big deal And I really do promise It’s only just a movie kiss.
I don’t know my dad, never did.
The man who some say I
resemble. Just in looks, I hope.
Stories from my mom
and family, tells of
a funny man, like me.
But I hope that’s where it
Saw him once, I did.
So close we were but so far.
I expected more. Like a hug.
But nothing came from The
Shadow that he was to me.
Less than a friend.
I still hear of him. Yes he lives. And
I wonder, if he thinks of me. Misses me.
Wishes he could hug me. Talk to me
Like a dad to a son. And meet my
boys. Who have heard so much about
So much to say but I can’t
talk to a Shadow. It won’t matter.
Do I love him? How could I love the unknown?
Forgive him? Yes I do but for what? I don’t
Know. I learn from him what not to
do. To be there for my own and to love.
Sometimes when I write a poem that I am really excited about, I get my wife to read it out loud to me. It’s disappointing when I realize it doesn’t exactly sound like I intended it to. When I write the lyrics, it’s like song in my head, I have a rhythm, but even with punctuations, it is still difficult to convey the intonations and rhythm that I have in my head as I write.
When I read back my poems, they sound wonderful and I can’t wait to publish so everyone can read them the same way. But then I thought, “What if the reader doesn’t read it like that? They are going to miss the gist of it. It doesn’t even sound as good if not read the way I intended.” I wish I could read my poems to you instead of writing them but unfortunately I can’t.
That makes me wonder about those poems we dissect in school. Is that exactly what the writer, who is long dead, wanted us to get out of his poem or is it just us interpreting it in our own way? Who knows. In the meantime, go ahead and read my poems your way. Then read it over again, but this time read it like this…
Hey followers and readers, I started this blog because I like to write poems about any and every topic. It started out well and was very popular, but I signed up for the NAPOWRIMO, which is the National Poetry Writing Month and wrote a poem a day. It was a good. I did great but when it was over, I was done! Like dinner. Nothing in the tank. Depleted.
I took some time off. Didn’t want to think of another poem. Then it happened! This morning I jumped out of bed excitedly. And way to early for a Saturday morning. I had poems in my head! They had to get out! I was back! I am back!
Thank you my faithful followers for sticking with me and not jumping ship. For you new readers, fasten your seat belts. I am here to stay. I am digging in! No more deserting the troops.