SOUND OF A MAN WHO YEARNS.
I suppose it’s a strange phenomenon.
At least unusual, you may discern,
‘though obviously more common in song.
Emotional sound of a man who yearns.
I don’t think I’d be speaking out of turn,
if say some people have a lot to learn
about wish for love, which can slowly burn.
Can hear sometimes sound of a man who yearns.
Do not expect it publicly expressed.
Told foolish, and told off by someone stern.
Others suffrin’ but repressed, not impressed.
So kept within, sound of a man who yearns.
Unless can tell to you of its extent,
then, sound of man who yearns, for whom it’s meant.
THE PROBLEMS CREATING A FABULOUS POEM.
The most beautiful imaginable
would be a proper description of you.
Need to use my skills intellectual
To write an apt love poem that is new.
I think the word ‘fabulous’ would be in.
May also find a place for ‘wonderful’,
and, while my imagination’s flying,
would, very likely, include ‘loving you’.
So, here goes, “you’re a wonderful person”.
“It is fabulous just being with you”.
And before my inspiration is gone,
“I think I was made to be loving you.”
Admit it’s hardly Shakespeare coming through.
But, fabulous, wonderful, loving you.
SIMPLE LOVE POEM.
Keep it simple and understandable.
Avoid getting anybody confused.
Don’t mention subjects indescribable.
Apologise when knowledge is misused.
Make sure content is comprehensible.
But don’t patronize with words short and sweet.
No sense pretending intellectual.
Not have readers out of their depths, and beat.
Especially where there’s a clear message.
Obfuscation is unacceptable.
Stride out along a brightly lit passage.
Metaphor clarity’s defensible.
It’s necessary, where we speak of love
it’s the case that you understand enough.
A CALL OVERHEARD.
Why does she keep going out with him then?
Why has she let him get away with it?
That all is rosy she seems to pretend.
Why isn’t she using her brain a bit?
Obvious she has strong feelings for him
to excuse and forgive repeatedly.
What she sees in him takes imagining.
Stuck with how she felt originally.
Well, we will just have to watch out for her.
Although there doesn’t seem much we can do.
Someone better than him we would prefer.
But her choice, and she wants to see it through.
Hard to understand. Hardly sensible.
Would hate to see her hurt, but it’s her call.
Precious little warmth starting off the day.
Frost upon the ground and cold air above.
Cloud cover. Yet to turn away from grey.
But I remember, of course there is love.
Depressive dullness has not gone away.
Of bad fortune, I’ve surely had enough.
Hope for a life that betters yesterday.
Then I recall it, of course there is love.
It is my mainstay. Also my mainspring.
There when all else feels so endlessly rough.
Consistently, it seems, delivering.
Reminding me that, of course there is love.
Thank you for giving me all of the stuff.
Recollected that, of course there’s your love.
Dysfunctional, understanding too much.
Whilst at the same time not knowing enough.
So very easy to get out of touch.
Rule out the necessity to be tough.
Find that I’m thinking the unthinkable.
In long relationships, dependencies.
Like addict and dependent, linked by soul.
Between them symbiotic tendencies.
Parasitic, but not totally so.
The needy one and provider can change
positions, so a stronger love can grow.
Develop trust as best we can arrange.
I don’t mind giving. I’ve taken so much.
If it is my turn, I am tough enough.
I’m here to protect you. Your bodyguard.
To keep your celebrity body safe.
Anyone try it on will find I’m hard.
That you won’t come to harm, you can have faith.
Because I’m your bodyguard. Protect you.
If there’s any danger, I’ll take the risk.
Only allow someone you accept through.
Whoever they are, I’ll be there to frisk.
Take being your bodyguard, serious.
Get you safely to your destinations.
Those things suspicious or mysterious,
I’ll check them out for the explanations.
I’m here to keep you totally secure.
Apart from me, nothing you need endure.
FINDING THE RIGHT WORDS.
Words. I only have words to say to you.
Expression of what it means to face you.
Talk that’s honest, bravely saying what’s true.
Seeking words that would really embrace you.
Here’s looking at you. A fantastic sight.
Admiring your ageing, ageless beauty.
Worth much more than a second glance alright.
My gaze returned would endlessly suit me.
But it’s words that interest me the most.
Engage your interest and impress you.
Communicating sincerely. No boast.
Yet, when all this said, want to caress you.
Not loquacious, verbose, obscure, obtuse,
but gracious. I’m convinced! Amour’s the truth.
I want you as an App on my I-Pad.
I click, and there you are at my service.
Not that I’d want you for anything bad.
Happy to know you’re there. That you exist.
So what could happen when you are applied.
You dancing, perhaps, come up on the screen.
Or something pers’nal to me you confide.
Or from a play or film, you act a scene.
If I’m in luck, it would be a love scene,
with your lips downloaded for me to kiss.
Passion like water boiling. Feel the steam.
This App of you, would give the title ‘Bliss’.
Hard to resist choosing you to appear,
as access to your ikon, I’d keep near.