The Deepening

Sometimes the words fall, down steps, end over end, until they land in a place that I may not recognize but I feel right at home in.

The Deepening

Do you retreat to some golden beach

Where fair-haired girls frolic;

Or do you ride the blue waves,

Teasing a dark door of despair

With your gentle knuckles,

Clenched in need around the firm

Stem of desire, passion revealed

In wavering sashays of your golden

Hips; a self-imposed border,

A mime’s cry, only

To procure orchestral resonance

When you whisper my name

 

**photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/crowt59/467748323/”>crowt59</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/”>cc</a>**

Billet-doux, In Plain English

This poem is all about fun. Recently, a writer friend eluded to the seductiveness of the French language. No argument there. But then, I got to thinking about a certain commercial where a young woman believes everything she reads on the internet, including setting up a date with a man who she believes is a “French model.”

This all got me to thinking about a poem I wrote a while back and thought I’d share. Have fun with it…

 

Billet-doux, In Plain English

 

She fell in love with a Frenchman

He called himself Philippe

He spoke in his native language

She was getting in too deep

 

On a day like any other

When the sun came up, he left her

She found a note on her door

It was a day I’ll always remember

 

In broken English

On a piece of torn paper

He wrote the words I love you

And proceeded to tell her all she was to him

In a note he called a ‘billet-doux’

In a note he called a ‘billet-doux’

 

He said she was a star from above

He called her his love from afar

He said fate would have to intervene

To bring them together once more

 

She read the words again and again

She’d loved this ridiculous Frenchman

She wanted him back no matter the cost

But found herself broken and lost

 

In plain English

On a torn piece of paper

She wrote the words I hate you

She proceeded to tell him all he wasn’t to her

In a note she called a ‘screw you’

In a note she called a ‘screw you’

 

Credit: Youtube

It’s a Lyrical Kind of Weekend

I was thinking it might be fun to have weekends for posting song lyrics. This is one I wrote quite a while back and played with the verses a little and here it is.

Blame It On A Song

Verse 1

How’d we end up in this place, wondering what we’re going to do

Lost in the moment, realizing we’ve got to choose

We’re both afraid – Do we take this chance?

There’s a forbidden rhythm in a lover’s dance

 

Chorus 1

If what we end up doing ends up being wrong

Let’s not blame each other – Let’s blame it on a song

One about lovin’

Not about sin

One about tenderness,

Letting go and giving in

 

Verse 2

I needed you near me, and you held me a little while

The tenderness of your touch took us the final mile

We let go of wanting, gave in to desire

Left innocence on the table for another buyer

 

Chorus 2

If what we end up doing ends up being wrong

Let’s not blame each other – Let’s blame it on a song

One about beginnings

Not about the end

One about finding

A lover in a friend

 

Verse 3

Like a drink of warm Bourbon on a cold afternoon

The lovin goes down easy, but ends all too soon

We know what we’re doing, and we know that it’s wrong

We can’t keep pretending to blame it on a song

 

Repeat first chorus

 

Ever write song lyrics? Do you also write music? Come on, tell me about it…

 

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Regret

There is a grief like a shadow that follows me around

I’ve seen it when the sun shines, even when the sun goes down

Once followed me to a country lane, trailed me back to town

Dare I turn to rid this dark cloud, dare I even start around

The shadow lifts as smoke from a burning cigarette

So close I come to think that maybe I can forget

Like O. Henry’s thieves trapped in their own net

This grief holds me ransom in the name of regret

 

(photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/36821100@N04/4508732411/”>Aristocrats-hat</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;)

The Deep Blue

I understand you, in the way that the planets understand the universe

Sealed in some effortless way,

Our connection bound to promises

 

Made in that unspoken language of need,

In an uncomposed melody of the heart;

I felt your rhythm at once and you entered my soul;

 

I am the cynic.

You cast me into the murky waters of belief, and I,

I surrendered to the wave

 

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/isolino/3238550310/”>Isolino</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;

The Yearning

I took the first step, struggling on feeble legs and allowed the weight of my body to fold me like an accordion to the floor. You should have been there, to catch my fall, to thwart my attempt to remain strong when weakness threatened my porous soul. A rapture of sorts, I was taken up in a cloud heavy with confusion.

Uncertainty cast a long shadow and I found myself huddling in its darkest corner. You were once the light that rescued me. How has my independence come to this place, of need and requisition for supplication? And would that prayer be answered, even if blood flowed from the worn flesh of my knees?

Significant, in that way one reaches epiphany from blunder, I accepted the profusion of the unknown. One silent sky above me echoed the glorious breath shared between your lips and mine. Sundry needs ensued.

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/malexgal/5152706020/”>AlexandraGalvis</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;