FUSS-POT SON & a 2nd poem

Two poems from my first poetry book to give samples of my alternative styles.

FUSS-POT SON

No sauce on my salad.
No tomatoes please.
I really will not eat this meal,
if you give me any of these.
I do not eat mushroom.
Garlic I won’t touch.
I really don’t like its taste very much.
Don’t give me steak.
It’s much too hard to chew.
Save all those Brussels sprouts.
Have them yourself, cant you?
No cream on my pie, Mom.
No custard on my tart.
This attitude of refusing food,
is such a trendy teenage art.

&

When we blend
Friend to friend
We feel (together)
Love is real
We flicker and float
In our sea tossed boat
I cannot rise too high
Or we’ll crash on the sky
This love is pure
There remains ne’er a cure
When we bind
Below our mind
We keep it true
Both me and you
 

Author's Note

These both appeared in Your World, My Words - my first poetry book. I am not sure which poems I used to have on view, before the wipe out, so am popping these up as a sample of my older work.

Reviews

[Sleepy]

I like this one