Wednesday, February 11, 2009

i love a little (bad) poetry after supper

I am in love.

When I am in love, I write bad poetry.

See how that works? Love = bad poetry.

Want to hear some? I wonder if it's an inverse relationship? As in, the better the love, the worse the poetry? Maybe just for me.

This doesn't have a title, and I don't think it's finished, as in, I probably won't finish it, but if I were to finish it, it would need finishing. Also, please be gentle. Here goes:

I want to sleep in your belly
Make a nest out of your blood vessels
and use your heart as a pillow
Letting the soft thud-thud, thud-thud
Lull me to sleep.

I'll sprawl over you,
tucking my toes into your intestines
and wrapping my arms around your lungs
Letting the soft whoosh-whoosh rise
and fall be the tide of my dreams.

That's it so far. Maybe it needs another, um, stanza, or something. I dunno.


little miss gnomide said...

I like it. I write bad poetry when I'm really happy. My best poetry is when I'm vividly aware of missing something.

Okie said...

Really did this poem. Keep exploring the idea if you want. Don't if you don't.