my first poetry bash post-high school

So I went to my first poetry bash since high school this evening, it was at 8pm @ Kafe Kerouac, a beautiful cafe about 30 minutes south of my house. The feature performer was this wonderful poet named Jon Sands--he was incredible. He was so inspiring and energetic, if you are bored and looking for something to do, find his cd and take a listen, I highly recommend it if you are looking for the perfect mix of humor and honest confessional poetry.
Anyway, I was a bit inspired, and feeling sentimental, so here are two new creations. They're short, simple, and nothing too special. Just felt like sharing ^_^

389
sometimes
when I sit for too long, I begin to dream of you again
but wait, why is it
that I can't remember your lips
and why can't I picture your hands?
all I've seen is littered in a cloud of smoke
and weariness. i know,
we used to take naps on the couch together, falling asleep
to the discovery channel, a special on bonobos, one tuesday afternoon
and
baking pizza with the kids while watching cartoons, chasing them around the block
behind scooters and bikes and little nimble legs
and when the night felt right
we would listen to
thick, old country songs and take heavy bubble baths
in each others arms, then you'd swaddle me in my
silk kimono, dry my hair with your towel
and kiss me til the sun came up



390

i remember
your hand up my sleeve
alarmed at how soft the skin on my wrist was.
i also remember
wanting to kiss you
for the first time all over again
because it feels once more
like falling in love.
no one ever believed me when
I told them you were the man
of my dreams. perhaps it was your
plaid shirts and hiking boots
or pale skin and poet lips
but it doesn't much matter now.
because without you, I'm a lump of letters
a broken poet, a
scratch on the surface
but when you're here, with me,
sifting through the shadows hand-in-hand
I remember
everything
is
what it always will be.

But it is SPECIAL! fresh and genuine, I love the last lines:

"everything
is
what it always will be"

or

"and when the night felt right
we would listen to
thick, old country songs and take heavy bubble baths
in each others arms, then you'd swaddle me in my
silk kimono, dry my hair with your towel
and kiss me til the sun came up"

and I bow low to the simplicity you have in sharing so subtle, warm waves of a loving relation...

beautiful!

The trouble with this:

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by paperleaves

389
sometimes
when I sit for too long, I begin to dream of you again
but wait, why is it
that I can't remember your lips
and why can't I picture your hands?
all I've seen is littered in a cloud of smoke
and weariness. i know,
we used to take naps on the couch together, falling asleep
to the discovery channel, a special on bonobos, one tuesday afternoon
and
baking pizza with the kids while watching cartoons, chasing them around the block
behind scooters and bikes and little nimble legs
and when the night felt right
we would listen to
thick, old country songs and take heavy bubble baths
in each others arms, then you'd swaddle me in my
silk kimono, dry my hair with your towel
and kiss me til the sun came up

---

is that it has to compete with this:

Quote:

---

390

i remember
your hand up my sleeve
alarmed at how soft the skin on my wrist was.
i also remember
wanting to kiss you
for the first time all over again
because it feels once more
like falling in love.
no one ever believed me when
I told them you were the man
of my dreams. perhaps it was your
plaid shirts and hiking boots
or pale skin and poet lips
but it doesn't much matter now.
because without you, I'm a lump of letters
a broken poet, a
scratch on the surface
but when you're here, with me,
sifting through the shadows hand-in-hand
I remember
everything
is
what it always will be.

---

Oh, Kate! When you smoke (if you do, whatever you do) does the smoke come out as beautiful as these? Indeed, I almost wish I had never before told you how wonderful you are so that I could do it

for the first time all over again
because it feels once more
like falling in love.

Both very lovely Paper.

THANK YOU! bar22do, Prince, and Virgil. :) I love your comment, jer, very clever :P
have a great holiday, all!

Virgil picked the perfect adjective in "lovely"; I quite like both but I agree with Prince that 390 is the better of the two.