[Plazma's Poet and Wallpaper Blog]
Collected poets and selected wallpaper links.Love Song For Alex
2007-06-24
Love Song For Alex,1979
My monkey-wrench man is my sweet patootie;
the lover of my life, my youth and age.
My heart belongs to him and to him only;
the children of my flesh are his and bear his rage
Now grown to years advancing through the dozens
the honeyed kiss, the lips of wine and fire
fade blissfully into the distant years of yonder
but all my days of Happiness and wonder
are cradled in his arms and eyes entire.
They carry us under the waters of the world
out past the starposts of a distant planet
And creeping through the seaweed of the ocean
they tangle us with ropes and yarn of memories
where we have been together, you and I.
love poet
2007-06-24
ac/dc song
2007-06-24
Whole Lotta Rosie - AC/DC
wanna tell you a story
'bout a woman i know
when it comes to lovin'
oh she steals the show
she ain't exactly pretty
ain't exactly small
forty-two, thirty-nine, fifty-six
you could say she's got it all
never had a woman
never had a woman like you
doing all the things
doing all the things you do
ain't no fairy story
ain't no skin and bone
but you give it all you got
weighing in at nineteen stone
you're a whole lotta woman
a whole lotta woman
whole lotta rosie
and you're a whole lotta woman
oh, honey you can do it
do it to me all night long
only one to turn
only one to turn me on
all through the night time
and right around the clock
to my surprise
rosie never stops
you're a whole lotta woman
a whole lotta woman
whole lotta rosie
and you're a whole lotta woman
poet3
2007-06-24
The Summer I Was Sixteen
The turquoise pool rose up to meet us,
its slide a silver afterthought down which
we plunged, screaming, into a mirage of bubbles.
We did not exist beyond the gaze of a boy.
Shaking water off our limbs, we lifted
up from ladder rungs across the fern-cool
lip of rim. Afternoon. Oiled and sated,
we sunbathed, rose and paraded the concrete,
danced to the low beat of "Duke of Earl".
Past cherry colas, hot-dogs, Dreamsicles,
we came to the counter where bees staggered
into root beer cups and drowned. We gobbled
cotton candy torches, sweet as furtive kisses,
shared on benches beneath summer shadows.
Cherry. Elm. Sycamore. We spread our chenille
blankets across grass, pressed radios to our ears,
mouthing the old words, then loosened
thin bikini straps and rubbed baby oil with iodine
across sunburned shoulders, tossing a glance
through the chain link at an improbable world.
billy's rain
2007-06-24
Billy's Rain
When I'm lying awake, listening to rain
hammering on the roof,
the phrase comes back to me,
our code for 'Let's get out of here'.
We were huddled in the back of a van
with the lights, the videotape equipment
and the man with the rain machine.
'Why can't we use the regular rain?' you asked,
as rain hammered on the roof.
'That's God's rain', said someone.
'It doesn't show up on film.
We need Billy's rain for this one'.
When I find myself soaked to the skin, tired,
or merely bored with God's rain,
the phrase comes back to me.
I'd say it now if I thought you were listening.
poet
2007-06-24
SEX
How can you live without sex in your life.......
Sex in the morning
Sex in the eveving
Sex at night
Every minute of the day
Sex.......Sex........Sex
Sex is great
sex is bad
Do it hard when you get mad
Sex today
Sex tommorow
Sex everyday when you're in sorrow
Sex on the bed
Sex on the floor
Have it everyday you will want more.
Dwayne Gordon
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