Moods Of P

A walk through my words


March 2016

His Feels

I know how he feels,
the trepidation of seeing her online but she isn’t chatting to him
wondering who has captivated her attention

I know how he feels,
anxious to wake up to a few lines from her
those precious words that give hope for another day

I know how he feels,
the cold feeling in his stomach after a few days of silence
her interactions with others barely warming him like a distant fire

He laments at how she’s so cold,
he forgets that he too at one stage was so bold
to forget the presence of a lover because he could dally with another

I know how he feels,
for the passion he feels for her I once felt for him
amusement plays at the corner of my lips
as he hints to play between her hips

Laughter has found me again
I gently remind him of how the tables have turned
Had I been paper surely I would have burned
But true to the past he is being spurned as he spurned
I shrug, it isn’t my battle, I  already know how he feels



Not Meat

I like you,
heck I’m falling but
I’m not meat

You’re cute and
I feel your words;
they tickle my mind & jump start my heart

You can have all of me,
mind, body soul
I’ve left all my bones out
for you to see

You’re cute
I love your voice
but I’m not meat

I could get drunk
off your kisses
I could even see me;
as your misses

My heart turns cold
And my bones groan no
you ignore my pleas
Blinded to my heart’s needs

The curves, soft skin,
the eye feast;
like a shopper you grab and caress
forgetting the rest

Pleasing your hands & other senses
you tumble down the spiral
Need you created by stroking
desire you stoked flames up

You beg, plead,
you need, you are dying
just a sip of elixir to tide you over

You claim starvation,
surely if I care I’ll let you feed
but I’m not meat

I tried being caring
gave you a sip and you ripped the jug from me and got drunk
leaving me broken & empty

No more.
Hunger you shall until you see for real
I am not meat

You do not see how I broke and shattered
We carried on like it didn’t matter
like you did not take part
in tearing up my heart

You took more than what was on offer,
you left me with grief,  angst despair
And from that you want to sup again

you hunger for what you stole
you expect to find me whole
You seek to dine again
sorry, bar’s closed

The chef went into hiding
the bar tender quit
the band’s on hunger strike
Meals are invitation only and the printing press died

You die
I’ve been dying
my thoughts race; this is what you sought all along, nothing else of me matters
you’ll be happy to quench your thirst and fill your belly

This is how it ends
You starve as I have
You may never actually get it
truth is
I am not meat



Somehow in the torrent of the words that his presence evoked she found the words that unlocked the man he’d always wanted to be.
As he gingerly stepped out and away from the shackles that had had him bound year after year her next words coaxed the precious first steps to freedom.
Her heart sang to see him unbound. With a smile she hid her fears.
Gently she walked with him until he was able to run.
In, out, around she coached him. Suddenly he realized he was flying and she was right with him.
To dizzying heights he ascended til at last somewhere up high he looked back for her.
A speck in the distance he called to her.
Her weak response was laced with pain.
His mind went back to their early days and he recalled she’d always had broken wings.
Swooping down with alarming speed he raced towards the ground.
There he found her in a free fall just before the rocky ground.
He swooped under her and carried her away.
On a nest of firm branches covered in cotton and heather he laid her gently down.
Her breathing ragged and distressed he tended her in his nest.
Daily he flew far and wide in search of the thing that could cure his bride.
Daily he tended each broken bone amazed that he had never known or guessed the extent of her damage.
At last it was her turn to heal, & he had had the honouring of furnishing every meal and providing her shelter.
His call lured her into the skies and each time her wings failed her he broke her fall until they were flying high.
If you look carefully into the skies you will see them to this day flying high.
Both had been left for dead by the ones who had come before now they fly high forever more.
Seek the one who would and could switch from invalid to healer or allow you to heal them in their darkest hour.
Be the fertile ground upon which the most delicate of seeds will flower into the strong and mighty tree rooted firmly in you providing you shade and protection from the storms.
That’s what she told me before breathing her final breath in the shade of a mighty oak.
And so my dear friends I leave you the tale of the lovers that could switch.


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