- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Danica due south
Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click hereYou pick me up Zen station,
corroding in the rain,
half blinded, half a brain,
a cloudy ache on a tripod
of restless legs
and a makeshift cane.
It's not the bags I carry,
nor my coat that weighs,
it's the years I have not lived yet
and the words I can not wait
but have to wait
for you to say.
Berlin up north is shrinking
as we plunge into a fray
of strident water pierced by star on star,
streetlight, breaklight, approaching car.
The only hint of motion, a notion
that we haven't gone too far,
a pale blue dot creeping lower
on your GPS display.
Faint orange rays sweep in, sweep out,
dance across your collar bone,
your still wet hair, your neck,
your face, your eyes of deep green
jade stone, turned flint black
in that twisted glow.
A headlight flash give
sudden gamma back, a second bright
as day is all I need to see.
A barely held back smile,
thumbs thumping giddy on the wheel,
eyes not quite on the road,
dancing back and forth
between your hands and me.
And so I know, you will,
you can not wait
but have to wait
to teach me once again,
the balance of being, the blush
of dawn, the right words to whisper,
the right words to say.
The audacity of leaning
eyes closed against the gale,
knowing without knowing
that nature will not fail.
- COMMENTS
Esperanza_Hidalgoabout 13 years agocaptured ride
of ups, and ups,
and learning
of oneself,
teaches me
much.
PoetGuyabout 13 years agowith the beginning stronger (less vague?) than the ending. "[C]orroding in the rain" is a great, great line.
twelveooneabout 13 years agoI would kill for lines like this:
a cloudy ache on a tripod
of restless legs
and a makeshift cane.
excellent lines,
your face, your eyes of deep green
jade stone, turned flint black
in that twisted glow.
these too, I don't know if you want the second your
100
UnderYourSpellabout 13 years agoThat's some ride you take us on, I see you speeding through the wet and windy night to a special rendezvous
SeattleRainabout 13 years agothanks for the trip! I can learn a lot from your use of irregular rhyme.... how you create patterns then break them in all the right places. Thanks for this poem! Sometimes with your poems, I feel uneasy about the endings, I am not sure why, they kind of seem to use their aha moments within the body of the poem and I always want a zinger at the end.
