Tag Archives: Poetry

The Holiday Inn: A Love Poem

I loved to watch you comb,

Your scarlet, falling hair,

I loved how when I pressed the sheets,

You threw them everywhere,

I loved the way you grabbed my hand,

Your tender, reckless greed,

I asked about the morning,

You laughed hysterically,

Tempted by a few more mins,

We watched the golden hour,

That night just couldn’t ever last,

You dressed, I had a shower,

I loved you in the morning,

I watched you pass me by,

I loved the love I gave to you,

The love I left behind.

this side of the mattress is not the sleeping surface

I can feel the very bones

holding me together,

 

the skeletal gel,

congealed soul-juice.

 

Or

The cantankerous, sickly curvature

Of a face with

eyes that see too much,

like a shibboleth

of the 21st Century

Dream

 

The yellowing, white sheets are

made up

wounds and burns, decomposing, disregarded

in rising smoke.

 

Its plumes of retreat

and remand.