Wednesday, September 13, 2006

To The Little Yellow Acorn

Wilted seeds that fall from tress,
Often wrestle with insatiable weeds.
Like moonlight rays, and a midnight play,
Lustful sin blooms at night.
But when you lie, a phoney cry
My senses lose all bliss
I hate your kiss,
Or any such twist
Cause I’ve heard it all before.


Are the tears of what you see
Real, or just more jive;
The lion that used to till your den,
Knows another bee has been in your hive.


Forgive your trespass??
A Rabbi, I am not,
Should’ve thought of that long before,
You went and got all hott.


On the sidewalk, you feed nasty turtle doves,
And you ask me why I don’t love,
It’s a cool breeze you’ll catch in hell,
You and your demons can dwell.


My old trolls don’t dare come to stroll,
While you invite yours to a bedside poll.
Mockery and treachery, down in young Sao Paulo,
With a prostitute, you laughed,
But tell me, did you swallow?


So, my little acorn, I’ve previewed your new life,
So will you still eat from that farmer’s garden,
On more moonlit nights?


You freely gave your dignity, for laughs, and nothing more,
Regardless of your soil’s health;
But if so proud, when you boast for the crowd,
Why’d you do it in such stealth?


See, I dream and hope, and think mankind,
You think of only self.
Oh damn, I thought I knew you,
I thought I knew you Wish,
But you taught me bout a cold served platter,

such a bitter dish.


Now I praise this new wealth,
So I got to thank my small sad seed,
Which blow whatever way the wind go;
Nevermind, you think I don’t know,
Even if I never seen a pale rainbow.


My heart’s already been cinched,
I don’t need your stinkin' sent,
A rose is just as sweet.
I’m long past why,
Last lifetime I did cry,
So my eyes no longer bleed.


I’m not so mellow,
For an off-colour yellow,
Of that there’s no need to speak.
You sold my grasp, for a lustful clasp,
And now it’s time to pay the meek.

6 Comments:

Blogger Miz JJ said...

I like this one. It's funny how everyone will take something different from a poem.

1:24 PM, September 15, 2006  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Do you know I hate you for the way you do things? DO you know why? I am not talking from the passion but from mind. You want me to be isolated but yet you are nowhere close to your home 1 o'clock at night. Are you supposed to call me after my gym? You can only demand what you give my dear. How am I supposed to know where you are ?

I am hurting and you are not withme? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

12:40 AM, September 16, 2006  
Blogger Just Some Gal said...

No matter the reason, this poem has impacted me more than any others. I have dealt with the situation myself and I was moved to tears.

Take care Nos.

12:51 AM, September 21, 2006  
Blogger urban butterfly said...

I like this piece!

4:19 PM, October 07, 2006  
Blogger Carla said...

I like to "listen" your words in silence...

3:35 AM, October 13, 2006  
Blogger sophie said...

What a beautiful and
interesting mind:)

3:27 PM, October 15, 2006  

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