Tuesday, 05 September 2006
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Waxing Poetical
I decided to write a poem.
It has no relevance to my current life, but I still believe it's identifiable. Just a slice of life kinda thing. I'm especially proud that I kept it unisex.
I think it's worthwhile.
Crush
The heart’s hurried, hissing
Its chambers shuddering together
Stomach’s steaming, squirming
yet light as a feather
A sight – a sight
if only a sight
the concoction of fright
and delight
mixed together just right
shaken oh so slight
when the Object comes into lightluminescent, ethereal
a reaction forceful and brightSucking warmth from the hands
Stealing breath from the lungsStarting sweat down the brow
Tying up tongues
Every action now needs qualification
Every daydream tainted with temptation
The development and dreading of the declarationThe ongoing quest for validation
Digesting every move to taste for verification
A glimmer, a hint, a final motivation
The last signal to leave the station-
-And now, the Object approaching
But for what destination?
Have the subtle changes and hints
stirred the Object's own proclamation?
Is it the end of frustration?
No more infatuation traced with asphyxiation,
But a fantastic future filled with elation.
Is this salvation?
Oh, the sensation.
Heart jolts, flutters, then full force palpitationFace flushing
Blood rushing
Mind approaching suffocation-Just a few steps now
Legs stand to position
The Object of affectionThe greatest ambition
Will all the dreams now come to fruition?
The Object almost here-
Prepared now; braced, and blushing
-The Object walks past and to another.
Crushing.
-Michael Tworzydlo © 2006
Here's some visual stimuli for the non-literate,
a picture of me and dad from this weekend.
Endless Mike and the Mountain Man
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