poetry modern poetry

I ask her a question
and before she can answer
I answer myself

When you live with someone
for a long time
There’s no need to wait for
what you already know

Therefore, when I answer my own
questions, it’s all good
I always get the answer I want

Any questions ?
Good

Case closed

Imagination you fed me
Blind images I drank
And breathed your words
I lived unreal

All gone now, I see well
I breathe air and move myself
With real food and
Water

I carry on my life
You are past, let’s hope so
We are done, not you and
I anymore

For your good and mine own
For the sake of reality I let you go
I breathe heavy (was it a sigh?)
Yet I promise I’ll pen no more
No more of you or us
I breathe heavy (was it a sigh?)

Holding you in my arms
Saw the world for the first time
The warmth of the sun
Is not unfamiliar
It is this warm yellow
Vision, unfamiliar
Breathing heavily
Like a big, grown up man
Reclining on my breasts
Big and tender
Full of love for you
The bloody bundle
Has turned to an angel
A guardian angel
On whom will I rely from today on
My new strength, my new courage and my new life
I hear your breath and I can see it
Yes, see it
The 25 year long blindness
Diminished
We climbed the hill together and
Are at the top
We see the sun walking up from his home
We together will change this world
If not we will have a cozy world of our own

Many of you have read me
Erotic speak as I call it
I wasn’t shy
Can hardly believe some of my entries
Hardcore, in your face, to your knees
Kind of writing
But something has happened
While my desires haven’t waned
My needs are crossing over
To a sexual twilight
I always feared this day
But my fears are unfounded
There is new beauty and passion
in my heart
That isn’t graphic
as much as it is appreciative
of your lovely ways
and well meaning spirit
This is a new kind of lust
I’m still working through it
Trying to comprehend my old and new
I’ll keep you posted
The light is illuminating my path
I’m in a garden of your heart
It’s warm and satisfying…

Maybe he didn’t want to be a funny man
Maybe his whole life was making others laugh
While he died inside

Maybe he saw it as a mission he couldn’t
turn his back on
Was his mania his humor or the other way around ?

Maybe a lot of things

I will always remember him for Good Will Hunting
and Moscow on the Hudson and other dramatic roles

His humor made me uncomfortable though funny he was

Maybe it was to much work to be funny and the expectation thereof

He was a great person, not just good

That’s what we should miss…

Booths
Dimly lit
Towards the back
For lovers, loners
Gangsters too
Meetings
Hand holding
Gazing in your eyes
Reflection
A glass of good wine
Or a whiskey or two
Deals made
Unwritten contracts signed
Booths,where people go
To escape the clutter
and noise of everyday life
A small piece of real estate
Business or pleasure
You know where to go
On the outskirts of town
8 o’clock sharp