If I knew nothing about poetry, which is close to true, that kind of poem make me want to peel my clothes off. Thanks for posting.
Watermelon Moon
I'm going to slug this thing out
to the bitter bloody end.
The wheels have turned too fast
but gone nowhere for too long.
Snow collects on the windows
and this summer will only twist it.
Tried my best for the entire game
just to keep the lights on.
This morning I was looking
looking over the river.
At the blueness
of early morning springtime.
And through other eyes
I saw how others also needed...
your touch.
Hope they find
what it is they need.
But when you look
into the mirror
and you see those green eyes
staring yourself right back.
And you don't find
nothing to love.
Just remember others do
and we hang around for free.
Because there's nobody
else
quite like you.
What I said and thought
we two totally different things.
I ran it all through a filter
wish I could somehow
get inside you with it.
And flag down that lonely rider
that rides inside your soul.
Paying in blood
for what got lost.
What we will never find again.
Strange waters in your thoughts
like dying watercolors.
With a wicked witless witness
hair slinging to her sides.
Memories whisper like
ancient specters in some grave.
How can I water your moonlight
or alter it?
Your body curled
in creamy thin spindles.
My poetry exposed at last
all we did was eat watermelon
and drink rancid wines.
But I never wanted to lose
the sparks
we once shared.
Look at me
I have a crown of thorns
on my heart now.
But you still find nothing
there to love?
Your lips on a cigarette
smoke flutters across
your face.
Smoke rising in textured streams
like southern winds twisting.
With a twisted scorn of youth
a taste of honey on your lips.
The black drugs you use
your amphetamine trips.
-Will Dockery / May 1976
Amathyzt wrote:
If I knew nothing about poetry, which is close to true, that kind of poem make me want to peel my clothes off. Thanks for posting.
Amathyzt, I just found this in rec.arts.poems, thanks for reading and commenting.
🙂
Watermelon Moon
I'm going to slug this thing out
to the bitter bloody end.
The wheels have turned too fast
but gone nowhere for too long.
Snow collects on the windows
and this summer will only twist it.
Tried my best for the entire game
just to keep the lights on.
This morning I was looking
looking over the river.
At the blueness
of early morning springtime.
And through other eyes
I saw how others also needed...
your touch.
Hope they find
what it is they need.
But when you look
into the mirror
and you see those green eyes
staring yourself right back.
And you don't find
nothing to love.
Just remember others do
and we hang around for free.
Because there's nobody
else
quite like you.
What I said and thought
we two totally different things.
I ran it all through a filter
wish I could somehow
get inside you with it.
And flag down that lonely rider
that rides inside your soul.
Paying in blood
for what got lost.
What we will never find again.
Strange waters in your thoughts
like dying watercolors.
With a wicked witless witness
hair slinging to her sides.
Memories whisper like
ancient specters in some grave.
How can I water your moonlight
or alter it?
Your body curled
in creamy thin spindles.
My poetry exposed at last
all we did was eat watermelon
and drink rancid wines.
But I never wanted to lose
the sparks
we once shared.
Look at me
I have a crown of thorns
on my heart now.
But you still find nothing
there to love?
Your lips on a cigarette
smoke flutters across
your face.
Smoke rising in textured streams
like southern winds twisting.
With a twisted scorn of youth
a taste of honey on your lips.
The black drugs you use
your amphetamine trips.
-Will Dockery / May 1976
***
Will Dockery wrote:
Amathyzt wrote:
If I knew nothing about poetry, which is close to true, that kind of poem make me want to peel my clothes off. Thanks for posting.
Amathyzt, I just found this in rec.arts.poems, thanks for reading and commenting.
🙂
Watermelon Moon
I'm going to slug this thing out
to the bitter bloody end.
The wheels have turned too fast
but gone nowhere for too long.
Snow collects on the windows
and this summer will only twist it.
Tried my best for the entire game
just to keep the lights on.
This morning I was looking
looking over the river.
At the blueness
of early morning springtime.
And through other eyes
I saw how others also needed...
your touch.
Hope they find
what it is they need.
But when you look
into the mirror
and you see those green eyes
staring yourself right back.
And you don't find
nothing to love.
Just remember others do
and we hang around for free.
Because there's nobody
else
quite like you.
What I said and thought
we two totally different things.
I ran it all through a filter
wish I could somehow
get inside you with it.
And flag down that lonely rider
that rides inside your soul.
Paying in blood
for what got lost.
What we will never find again.
Strange waters in your thoughts
like dying watercolors.
With a wicked witless witness
hair slinging to her sides.
Memories whisper like
ancient specters in some grave.
How can I water your moonlight
or alter it?
Your body curled
in creamy thin spindles.
My poetry exposed at last
all we did was eat watermelon
and drink rancid wines.
But I never wanted to lose
the sparks
we once shared.
Look at me
I have a crown of thorns
on my heart now.
But you still find nothing
there to love?
Your lips on a cigarette
smoke flutters across
your face.
Smoke rising in textured streams
like southern winds twisting.
With a twisted scorn of youth
a taste of honey on your lips.
The black drugs you use
your amphetamine trips.
-Will Dockery / May 1976
***
Another classic, another great moment in time...
Zod wrote:
Will Dockery wrote:
Amathyzt wrote:
If I knew nothing about poetry, which is close to true, that kind of poem make me want to peel my clothes off. Thanks for posting.
Amathyzt, I just found this in rec.arts.poems, thanks for reading and commenting.
🙂
Watermelon Moon
I'm going to slug this thing out
to the bitter bloody end.
The wheels have turned too fast
but gone nowhere for too long.
Snow collects on the windows
and this summer will only twist it.
Tried my best for the entire game
just to keep the lights on.
This morning I was looking
looking over the river.
At the blueness
of early morning springtime.
And through other eyes
I saw how others also needed...
your touch.
Hope they find
what it is they need.
But when you look
into the mirror
and you see those green eyes
staring yourself right back.
And you don't find
nothing to love.
Just remember others do
and we hang around for free.
Because there's nobody
else
quite like you.
What I said and thought
we two totally different things.
I ran it all through a filter
wish I could somehow
get inside you with it.
And flag down that lonely rider
that rides inside your soul.
Paying in blood
for what got lost.
What we will never find again.
Strange waters in your thoughts
like dying watercolors.
With a wicked witless witness
hair slinging to her sides.
Memories whisper like
ancient specters in some grave.
How can I water your moonlight
or alter it?
Your body curled
in creamy thin spindles.
My poetry exposed at last
all we did was eat watermelon
and drink rancid wines.
But I never wanted to lose
the sparks
we once shared.
Look at me
I have a crown of thorns
on my heart now.
But you still find nothing
there to love?
Your lips on a cigarette
smoke flutters across
your face.
Smoke rising in textured streams
like southern winds twisting.
With a twisted scorn of youth
a taste of honey on your lips.
The black drugs you use
your amphetamine trips.
-Will Dockery / May 1976
***
Another classic, another great moment in time...
Thanks again for reading and commenting.
Will Dockery wrote:
Zod wrote:
Will Dockery wrote:
Amathyzt wrote:
If I knew nothing about poetry, which is close to true, that kind of poem make me want to peel my clothes off. Thanks for posting.
Amathyzt, I just found this in rec.arts.poems, thanks for reading and commenting.
🙂
Watermelon Moon
I'm going to slug this thing out
to the bitter bloody end.
The wheels have turned too fast
but gone nowhere for too long.
Snow collects on the windows
and this summer will only twist it.
Tried my best for the entire game
just to keep the lights on.
This morning I was looking
looking over the river.
At the blueness
of early morning springtime.
And through other eyes
I saw how others also needed...
your touch.
Hope they find
what it is they need.
But when you look
into the mirror
and you see those green eyes
staring yourself right back.
And you don't find
nothing to love.
Just remember others do
and we hang around for free.
Because there's nobody
else
quite like you.
What I said and thought
we two totally different things.
I ran it all through a filter
wish I could somehow
get inside you with it.
And flag down that lonely rider
that rides inside your soul.
Paying in blood
for what got lost.
What we will never find again.
Strange waters in your thoughts
like dying watercolors.
With a wicked witless witness
hair slinging to her sides.
Memories whisper like
ancient specters in some grave.
How can I water your moonlight
or alter it?
Your body curled
in creamy thin spindles.
My poetry exposed at last
all we did was eat watermelon
and drink rancid wines.
But I never wanted to lose
the sparks
we once shared.
Look at me
I have a crown of thorns
on my heart now.
But you still find nothing
there to love?
Your lips on a cigarette
smoke flutters across
your face.
Smoke rising in textured streams
like southern winds twisting.
With a twisted scorn of youth
a taste of honey on your lips.
The black drugs you use
your amphetamine trips.
-Will Dockery / May 1976
***
Another classic, another great moment in time...
Thanks again for reading and commenting.
This probably was written immediately after or during the visit from the late great poet Ahmos Zu-Bolton, correct....?
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