You Know What I Mean

Perhaps it was our youth,
between egos and empty bottles
we were plenty self-destructive
cracking like lightening,
searing memories,
melting lips,
moist,
crashing cars.
We lived so much
in just a fraction of time.
I was so loud and your legs were so thick
as anvils.
but then...
that was then.

maybe it lives in me,
behind my teeth,
the wounded words,
the spiral notebooks.
my thin hands writing,
and searching and searching
for you in pathetic lovers
unable to control me.
Fumbling and warm.
for your reflection,
in the frail stem of wineglasses.
pale and perverted,
you shine much brighter then I ever could.
Still.

It's you,
smoldering,
When flesh meets flesh.
It's you,
your divinity
and large clumsy hands
molded a women of rib.
My heaven,
poor heaven.
I blame you for everything.
every fluttering eyelash,
you were always such an eyesore.
with your broad back against the wall
your faith, dripping
everywhere but in me.

I lived on hope

just like a child. 
It's you,
my love.

Reviews

[DavidRyan]

Wow...sexy, brilliant, well written -- then again, I always say this about your writing. It's crazy when you meet a writer as talented as yourself and every new writing becomes an instant favorite. You're very talented, dear. Even if you are Canadian : ) Well done and thanks for sending this my way. Can't wait for more.

[cilla]

You handle images and symbols with grace and finesse. The lines are powerful yet can be seen and felt so clearly. There is magic in your words and yet the terrible since of something forever lost.

You write from the heart and it reaches out and touches many other hearts � mine included.

[Eagle Cruagh]

You are a good writer, perhaps better than that.

Do the world a favor, please. Either go get your old
womanizing lover. Get him back and suffer like you
apparently need to do. Get full of the stuff that
you keep lamenting and get on with your life.

As I said before, you are a good, probably excellent
writer, but what good is it when you always write about
your broken love ?

Try humor. It is only a step away you know. Humor is
only a few words removed from sadness and drama.

You will have to be prepared for the consequences .
Are you ready ? Are you sure ? You will feel good when
you write future, productive stuff.

YOU WILL FEEL GOOD !

So ? Are you going back to pick up his dirty socks ?

Go write us a winner----NOW !

----- Eagle Cruagh

[Flo_writer]

This one feels as if it shift moods. The first verse sounds like a modern day Bonnie and Clyde without the bank robbing. The second verse sounds like she's searching for the right words to express her lover's qualities. And the third sounds both as if she loves and hates him. Almost as if she can't stand being in love with him.

"I blame you for everything.
Every fluttering eyeslash"

Sounds to me like she can't help to bat her eyes at him in a loving manner.

"You were always such an eyesore"

Sounds like she couldn't stand the sight of him.

You have a very unique style to your poetry that I find intriguing. They are always full of imagery and such passion that I can't help but to read them more than once and break them down until I fully comprehend.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

I agree my gosh every time i read your words I am blown away... the emotions you express in your powerful and creative way really just leave me speechless. Brilliant brilliant brilliant.