A Love Story (Celebrating 1+ years of Where Shall I Wander)

Im terrible with birthdays and somehow I missed my own. I am pleased to announce to my readers that Jolly one-click is proud to be moving into a new year. It's well overdue now, but I thought I could do something I haven't done in a while, go back into the vaults and rather than write a new poem post something I've written a while ago.

I think this is a good one to pick. It's not particularly nostalgic, but it's an experiment. It's four little experiments. I can't even remember the reason for the heading "love story", but each of these poems or at least a few of them were the rough workings of larger ones I wrote later.

I hope you enjoy this look into the drafting of poems. Sometimes as I've said before I simply liek the sound of words or I like sometimes I like changing the tone around. You know you have something really dark so you understate it in your language. Actually there's a song, George Michael "Cars and Trains", it has the catchiest beat, but the chorus goes something like this, it's funny too different songs in a way...but it'll give you an idea of what I'm trying to say.

"Getting you ass to the top of that building
throwing yourself under cars and trains
taking the pill that you know will kill ya
under the wheels the same the same."

Ah George gotta love ya! Give it a listen, it's actually a really cool song. It's on his album Patience. Let's be uber patient for the next one eh?

Anyway without further adue here it is "A Love story" a quartet of short paragraph form poetry. Thank you again readers for staying reading on this site. I appreciate everyone who has even glanced at this page (if only to learn about Sarah Simpson's Grave...hahaha).

A Love Story.

Superman. A train. Close your eyes. 200 miles an hour. Smacks my head, but

I only hear vibrations. Asleep the metal melts. Into a coffin, my body
Disintegrates. Open eyes, dead train. But still alive. Still here

The Hospital Bed. I did not know it, but i saw the glassy eyes
humming awake on that bed, the grey hands sighing over the fresh sheets,
the sudden jolt as if by frankenstein But there were no bolts, only the flesh and those howling eyes.                    Soon strangled from life.

A Piece of Evidence. Riding to tomorrow. transfixed on the horizon. Gazing at the night-day

Apparitions As they whisper their Ancient secrets A piece of evidence Beating in your ear as
the cold air whips about your person warning sirens in the twilight relics of the time-fold but the black ash of  the highway Always the same

Funny Face. You have a funny face. The sort i can’t quite look away from. Hey funny face. The sort i can’t hide from I love ya. I’ll hug ya. Come in funny face. Always laughing. With those big blue cheeky eyes The kind of eyes that cry And cry and cry                                                              Funny feast of mine

it ought to have been mine. at least in a dream. maybe at a time