Poems you make up on the spot

This end in ending brings me to a fit
not fearing neighbours heard your rush of f ucks.

I want to cherry-light cigarettes with you
And drink Jack Daniels and honey
Until we can no longer taste the sweetness
I want to look up at the smoke you’ve exhaled
To watch it create cloudy wisps that make
The sky look like a Van Gogh Painting
I want you to notice the way my eyes
Seem to change colour as the night falls darker
And I want to tell you not to get up
So we can stay here a little longer
And pretend that everything we do
Matters

Nicely done Meg.

It seems you've advanced but what was it you've advanced from?
You have more money now. That's an advance surely.
Time was not wise.

No, it wasn't about money. I'm just as deep as poor.
Of course, money never mattered.

Then the word loser came to mind and god knows we must avoid that.
Oh, I've never fallen for the prescribed attitudes of the many.

Is that so?

She won't read long poems.
She says they make her sad
like –
kids singing into a hole
thinking it's a pit.

I like it, Chirpy.

There's a field where everyone goes to die
and they all clasp hands
as they lie in the tall grass.

The sun is warm and bright and not one feels
as though this is soon
to go into the empty.

Pain has never been given to pain here,
nor is there a care
about this false weigh station anymore.

Brilliant Varenne!

Thank you, Tony! :)

I almost never like things I write, but I liked this. I'm glad you read it.

Meaningful outcome Var! http://smiles.kolobok.us/artists/jus...C_goodpost.gif

take pleasure
in what you do
because without it
you don't do
you grow
new into old
such weed
is told
smile is sold

When you realize most things you write are like most things you might say.

That's not good.

You have not thought, even though it is just thought, and not you.

Or perhaps you have thought too much and you should give that up.

Oh My

sweet talk me
but that is all you're getting
after that it's letting
either you go
or I so:
honey leaks low
hardens by the mo.

I want to cherry-light cigarettes with you
And drink Jack Daniels and honey
Until we can no longer taste the sweetness
I want to look up at the smoke you’ve exhaled
To watch it create cloudy wisps that make
The sky look like a Van Gogh Painting
I want you to notice the way my eyes
Seem to change colour as the night falls darker
And I want to tell you not to get up
So we can stay here a little longer
And pretend that everything we do
Matters


Love it.