Here’s a rather longish poem I wrote last weekend, but which I wanted to show to my friends before putting here. I personally love this one, the rhythm and the less-conventional rhymes, maybe, that occur at times throughout the poem. And also the little bits of repetitions that I think add to the nice flow of the poem.
It’s supposed to be a little dreamy, but as much as that, a little hectic. Like the kind of feeling after a very vivid dream, like you’re not completely out of it yet, but the real world keeps pushing and poking until something finally catches your awareness even stronger than that dream. 🙂
A Dream of a Kiss
If I knew just how to write a love song,
I would, today, I’d write you one.
A kiss of a dream, a dream of a kiss;
the taste and the pressure of lips on my lips.
Then, I hardly make it up alive –
early morning, sunless skies –
a memory sweeps across my eyes,
the knife stops halfway through the bread;
it’s like you breathe along my breath,
so strong the presence, as if nightmare
it was I had the night before,
haunting, teasing, taunting more
and more, and more throughout the day.
And more as through my life I make my way;
yet by now half-forgotten where it came
from, only feeling presence upon presence,
or perhaps the cheerful, horrid essence
of a dream that somehow took a hold,
fills you fuzzy warm and solid cold;
all mostly at the very same time, too,
so there is absolutely no escaping you.
(Your brown eyes always grinning like they do.)
And as a smile meets a smile; say,
gaze meets a gaze,
and that same dear old challenge takes its place;
eyes locked on eyes locked on eyes locked on eyes,
a brown so deep – you’re a god in disguise.
And oh, I so doubt you’d look like that,
if you knew the kind of dream I had;
but now, not only just the kiss, but
as much as that those eyes I miss,
that look you gave me; this tortured bliss
will make me scream my lungs out later;
overjoyed and utterly frustrated.