George said it was all in the mind,
While walking down Abbey Road.
Paul didn't bother to ask why,
He just lit up a smoke.
Ringo focused on his hair,
And John, on his name.
And as they moved from here to there,
A snapshot poster became.
Squares and hats and costumes,
And submarines, we see.
A buggy beat, and bare feet and magic
mysteries.
Heeled boots and ritzy roots,
Ties and mop-top hair.
From fools on hills to watching wheels,
Here, there, and everywhere.
Ringo wondered if Paul was dead,
Or if he had just feigned.
And Paul sat back and shook his head,
Far too entertained.
John once told us where we all lived,
And George, he had agreed.
So the four, they just went adrift,
In the land of the submarines.
While walking down Abbey Road.
Paul didn't bother to ask why,
He just lit up a smoke.
Ringo focused on his hair,
And John, on his name.
And as they moved from here to there,
A snapshot poster became.
Squares and hats and costumes,
And submarines, we see.
A buggy beat, and bare feet and magic
mysteries.
Heeled boots and ritzy roots,
Ties and mop-top hair.
From fools on hills to watching wheels,
Here, there, and everywhere.
Ringo wondered if Paul was dead,
Or if he had just feigned.
And Paul sat back and shook his head,
Far too entertained.
John once told us where we all lived,
And George, he had agreed.
So the four, they just went adrift,
In the land of the submarines.
A Beatles Poem
Welcome to the page! These are just a few strange and
otherwise random poems that I wrote... If you want to keep
updated on writings and the like, try my Tumblr and Facebook!
Enjoy and be sure to check out
the other pages of the website!
otherwise random poems that I wrote... If you want to keep
updated on writings and the like, try my Tumblr and Facebook!
Enjoy and be sure to check out
the other pages of the website!
| T-t-t-trip and fall, You think you got it all? I see your smile is small, You're up against a wall. You can take a hold of me, You see-- I know who I am and who you would be, Agree? Maybe it's me, But I see you itching, feel free, Just baby, don't you dare leave My hand empty. She won't mind If ya leave her behind I can help ya unwind I know you'd hate to decline. I see it's me ya can't resist, Check this, Ya know how she is, I don't wanna dismiss, Or diss, But just a kiss And boy, I know you can't resist So don't make me persist When nothing's amiss. T-t-t-trip and fall, You think you got it all I see your smile's not small You're up against a wall. |
Rap-ish Poem
I call it my Ramen dance
Cup your hands above your head,
Swing your hips,
Spin.
But it's so much different in real
life.
What is real life?
Oriental Ramen at midnight.
A swollen heart, feeling young and
wonderful.
I realize at this moment that I could
never be married, nor share a home
with another being.. For I cannot
even fathom a soul loving all of me,
while I sing a quickly crafted,
poorly toned song about ramen and
cats and dancing and the snow.
While I dance in my socks and
knickers around the house.
But who needs to get married, save
for the reality that I love to cuddle
and share, and hate putting up
Christmas lights on my own or getting
spiders out.
Spiders and Christmas lights; A heart
to be welcomed to...
I couldn't imagine doing with or
without.
Love, really is about sharing your
noodles. About giggleing when you
aren't supposed to, and running
lightly around the couch together.
I am speaking, of course, of a cat of
mine.
Forgiving him for getting on the
table, and not minding when his hugs
give you hives.
Aside from a cat, I feel magnificant
tonight. I love that the snow wipped
blush upon my cheeks, and I love my
fleece blanket from secret santa.
I love laying upside down and
swinging my legs.
Just generally, being alive is kind.
I love feeling like a DJ as I stir
noodles to the rhythm in my heat and
the feeling of complete bliss with
ev'ry snowflake that falls outside.
Thinking too much,
About silly things and secrets.
Watching Food Network alone, and
waiting online for nothing.
I love smiling in reminiscence of all
the good things life has brought.
And I love being free enough to know
what I want, and not have those
thoughts tainted by any previous
experience.
I love when I get a phone call, no
matter from who, because I have such
a lovely, dancable ring tone. It
makes me happy to hear, and when
you've finally let it ring enough,
somebody wants you on the other end.
I feel excited!
I wish I could go on the trampoline.
I wish I could get on my bike and
pedal as hard as I can, go as far as
I dare, and not stop until I cannot
breathe.
The world is such a lovely thing.
Living in it is such a privelege.
Why ever have I felt, even for a
second, otherwise?
Cup your hands above your head,
Swing your hips,
Spin.
But it's so much different in real
life.
What is real life?
Oriental Ramen at midnight.
A swollen heart, feeling young and
wonderful.
I realize at this moment that I could
never be married, nor share a home
with another being.. For I cannot
even fathom a soul loving all of me,
while I sing a quickly crafted,
poorly toned song about ramen and
cats and dancing and the snow.
While I dance in my socks and
knickers around the house.
But who needs to get married, save
for the reality that I love to cuddle
and share, and hate putting up
Christmas lights on my own or getting
spiders out.
Spiders and Christmas lights; A heart
to be welcomed to...
I couldn't imagine doing with or
without.
Love, really is about sharing your
noodles. About giggleing when you
aren't supposed to, and running
lightly around the couch together.
I am speaking, of course, of a cat of
mine.
Forgiving him for getting on the
table, and not minding when his hugs
give you hives.
Aside from a cat, I feel magnificant
tonight. I love that the snow wipped
blush upon my cheeks, and I love my
fleece blanket from secret santa.
I love laying upside down and
swinging my legs.
Just generally, being alive is kind.
I love feeling like a DJ as I stir
noodles to the rhythm in my heat and
the feeling of complete bliss with
ev'ry snowflake that falls outside.
Thinking too much,
About silly things and secrets.
Watching Food Network alone, and
waiting online for nothing.
I love smiling in reminiscence of all
the good things life has brought.
And I love being free enough to know
what I want, and not have those
thoughts tainted by any previous
experience.
I love when I get a phone call, no
matter from who, because I have such
a lovely, dancable ring tone. It
makes me happy to hear, and when
you've finally let it ring enough,
somebody wants you on the other end.
I feel excited!
I wish I could go on the trampoline.
I wish I could get on my bike and
pedal as hard as I can, go as far as
I dare, and not stop until I cannot
breathe.
The world is such a lovely thing.
Living in it is such a privelege.
Why ever have I felt, even for a
second, otherwise?
| The Ramen Dance |
Flowers, broken flowers,
Strewn beside me,
Sit politely.
Rewinding and finding,
Reminding those days.
Days gone like the fragrance,
Like the petals, soft and light.
Falling where I lay,
Stirring me by day,
Awaking me by night.
No longer do they blossom,
Nor will they ever grow.
Sitting up upon a shelf,
Littering below.
Fingers, itching fingers,
Curled up tightly,
Daily, nightly.
Feeling and concealing,
Now healing the phase.
In the stead of my heart,
Flutter do my eyes,
In sleeplessness,
I dream; reminisce,
Never wanting to arise.
No longer shall I succumb,
Nor shall I even know.
'Bout the love, for you, I've held,
For it will now not show.
Strewn beside me,
Sit politely.
Rewinding and finding,
Reminding those days.
Days gone like the fragrance,
Like the petals, soft and light.
Falling where I lay,
Stirring me by day,
Awaking me by night.
No longer do they blossom,
Nor will they ever grow.
Sitting up upon a shelf,
Littering below.
Fingers, itching fingers,
Curled up tightly,
Daily, nightly.
Feeling and concealing,
Now healing the phase.
In the stead of my heart,
Flutter do my eyes,
In sleeplessness,
I dream; reminisce,
Never wanting to arise.
No longer shall I succumb,
Nor shall I even know.
'Bout the love, for you, I've held,
For it will now not show.
Broken Flowers
| So I've found that is it true. Nothing is real, and nothing to get hungabout. In a world of queer eggmen and day trippers, There can be seen a Lovely Rita, a girl with the sun in her eyes: Alas, at the end of the long and winding road.. And when you get there, she's gone. Something in the way she moves brings peace to me, Almost peace enough to let it be. But a sobering feeling still comes upon me, Getting me back to where I once belonged. Robotically, I say "Hello, Goodbye." But inside, I'm shouting, "Help! I need somebody." She said, "I know what it's like to be dead." I wonder if she knows I'm only sleeping. It's been a hard days night, and today has me feeling like a fool on a hill.. It feels like nobody knows, like they see me as a nowhere man.. Like I haven't got a point of view, and know not where I'm going to. But.. Doesn't that make me a bit like you? It's been a hard day's night, but tomorrow never knows. As I look at you all to see the love there that's sleeping, here comes the sun. Good morning, good morning. I want to tell you.. So I'll just tell myself, "Say the word, and you'll be free." But I feel fine sitting in an English garden, waiting for the sun. And I'll just say the only words I know that you'll understand, Because I'm happy just to dance with you. And that's all I have to say, until I find a way. Until I do, I'm hoping you will know what I mean. Ma belle; Sont des mots qui vont tres bien ensemble. |
The Beatles Medley
Sprawled across the couch,
Sun threatening to rise,
But not close enough to become
troublesome.
Just the two of us, lulled by the
television's quirky noises,
Illuminated by the lonesome light which
casts its glow from the next room.
My foot lies lightly, pressed against the
warmth of your breathing stomach.
You are asleep. You are determined to
stay near me.
I feel you stretch and look past the
glow of my computer screen.
It's good to have somebody here.
It's good to be followed, and cared for,
and loved.
Tonight is so eventless.
It leads my mind to becoming aware of
every little thing that happens.
Picking up a soda can to take a swig,
The bubbles ticking against the
aluminum.
Ticking even after I return it.
A rare car still passes, even at this
lifeless hour.
Queer, I think, that another being may
be roused.
Yet they look through the window and
see me,
Pajama-clad. Sleepy attire, and a
sleepless face.
Queer, they think, that another being
may be roused.
My foot suffers a tickle as you move,
Lifting your chin from atop, and
nuzzling it beneath.
A breathy sigh, a quivering paw as you
stretch,
And finally, you wander back off,
asleep.
My eyes long for the same.
A contradictory night.
Seminal; Irrelevant.
But I can now see who really loves me.
Sun threatening to rise,
But not close enough to become
troublesome.
Just the two of us, lulled by the
television's quirky noises,
Illuminated by the lonesome light which
casts its glow from the next room.
My foot lies lightly, pressed against the
warmth of your breathing stomach.
You are asleep. You are determined to
stay near me.
I feel you stretch and look past the
glow of my computer screen.
It's good to have somebody here.
It's good to be followed, and cared for,
and loved.
Tonight is so eventless.
It leads my mind to becoming aware of
every little thing that happens.
Picking up a soda can to take a swig,
The bubbles ticking against the
aluminum.
Ticking even after I return it.
A rare car still passes, even at this
lifeless hour.
Queer, I think, that another being may
be roused.
Yet they look through the window and
see me,
Pajama-clad. Sleepy attire, and a
sleepless face.
Queer, they think, that another being
may be roused.
My foot suffers a tickle as you move,
Lifting your chin from atop, and
nuzzling it beneath.
A breathy sigh, a quivering paw as you
stretch,
And finally, you wander back off,
asleep.
My eyes long for the same.
A contradictory night.
Seminal; Irrelevant.
But I can now see who really loves me.
If I Could Purr
