Ravensong Poetry And Writing Blog by Donovan Baldwin

walking among books
slightly indecent alone
like sex, best with you

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Holding you in the morning
You in your pj's, me in mine
Cloth so soft it might as well be skin
Bodies warm against one another
As intimate as if naked,
More so, perhaps, for we are
Relaxed and even more at ease
THAT way
Than stiffly dressed and proper.

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let's share pajamas
i'll wear bottoms you the top
that won't last too long

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let us take pleasure
in relaxed intimacy
chastely making love

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I set forth to sail upon
Life, an endless polar sea,
Myself my own Titanic,
To fulfill my destiny.

I'm lost within the world
Till I crash some floating mass,
Sinking beneath the waves
Of undulating grass.

The band plays and the mourners,
Perhaps one, two, no more,
Exchange empty pleasantries,
Then return to what they did before.

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They didn't speak our language,
Those newly minted, and recruited,
Teachers from another country.
"Up north," we said, strange places,
Like New Jersey,
Alien lands like that.
We understood them,
Though they talked too fast,
But, we to them,
In our 33 RPM voices,
Were often unintelligible to
Their 78 RPM Yankee ears.

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Where does dark come from.
Is it truly simply
The absence of light,
Or, is it it's own entity,
With an existence
Independent of beams of energy?
I like to think of dark as
A free creature simply hiding,
Kind enough to allow us
To see things to be
Remembered once it returns.

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Old bricks, weathered things,
Skirt the house, pier and beam,
Built the year my mother was born,
The old bricks new when she was too,
Bought in 1949 when she and it,
Both turned 32, and I, 4,
I grew with her, in it, and
Remember those old weathered bricks.

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Copyright January 2020 by Donovan Baldwin

Labels: bricks, dark, donovan baldwin, haiku, holding, language, love, pajamas, poem, poems, poet, poetry, polar sea, Titanic