NUCROP ARTS Poetry
Hiatus
12/14/08
Out of my sight
not out of my mind
mentally I take
my clock on rewind
to view our last kiss
the very last time
we sighed two as one
a finely cut rhyme
as loving lips touched
and arms intertwined
sharing our sweat
on each other dined
concluding each kiss
with locking of eyes
great times never lasts
with the breaking of ties
in lonely heart moments
the pain is like thunder
unable to rise like
a head sawed asunder
though hiatus was wise
in spite of our sighs
recalling consoles me
my nature still rise
and my eye on your prize
the time we're apart
I condemn all my whys
see time's no concern cause
true love never dies
Morning kiss
5/16/06 2:36 am -Steven Cropper
Her eyes seek that morning kiss
right now that she so sorely miss
his sports arms holding her so close
at 6 am maybe an early dose
put an end to night booty calls
just as the climax reach, her ego falls
since now he leaves to be back midnight
her days alone, him out of sight
her man not only likes her sight at night
but is there to compliment her smile in light
as morning crows and kids do wake
he lies awaiting, school trek to make
all holidays coupled at all events
who could blame her that has that sense
that day will come replaced I'll be
she'll have her dawns and he'll have she
no longer need great sex but free
the midnight calls will cease to be
and she'll no longer answer me
except a platonical endeavor
her screams will be gone forever
being the other man before her man
phased out I'll be the course that ran
yes, her eyes they seek a morning kiss
but my night kiss will be sorely missed
Tasting the salt
7/25/05
I stir at myself
wondering why
the mysteries of me
are diagnosed wrong.
wondering why in spite
of explanations offered
diagnosis remain constant.
always off the mark.
Imagining lies to my truth.
deviousness to my intent.
fiction to the truths I impart
as if the novel written
was an unauthorized
biography.
ink marks the thought
of the author and
not that of the actual
one written about.
every line assumes.
every conclusion a theory.
every pain felt, though
an actual crime,
premeditation is only
a myth.
tasting the salt
I peer at your thoughts
feeling pain as result of
your hurt.
knowing but unsuccessfully
able to drive into your
consciousness that I
am no criminal
here to compose your demise
and laugh at your wake.
for undetached fulfillment
you did seek, turn the rifle
to your back and made you
care more than planned.
tasting the salt
you morn your failure
of sunder
and I morn your failure
to understand.
more-so, I morn
my ignorant heart
that fails to convince
your heart
of the innocence.
tasting the salt
validates my claim
but I'd never let
you see me taste.
so I remain innocent
as you taste salt
imagining my guilt...
Without accusation
Being as vague as not to accuse wrongly
I ignorantly assumed welcome....
You were made aware of my intentions and
never rejected them...ignoring my summons,
I remained persistent that maybe you
were actually busy....until reluctantly,
i decided to make what imagined I as
a welcomed visit....I knocked and a voice rang out...
I pretended to ignore it and knocked again
with deafening silence ringing thru the dusk...
I now know....I am not owed a thing...
the least of all, an acknowledgement and
tactful rejection....just to be ignored.....
Until
9/21/09
Sawed asunder as the silence thundered
brightening clarity that hones no doubt
that the passion once red has cooled
as rain turned snow.
what else should I think
or even think to know?
except that which drives a broken heart
as the graphs do show the ink right off the chart
I'm abandoned by the day's light watching only dark
my legs they run in thin air,
though feet stands upon the park
the tears they drop like fallen rain; a glass eyed lifeless lark
I am recalling good times like ghosts of lover's past
standing watching us kiss, and hope that's not the last.
for somehow hopes a burning flame rekindled by a match
the two of us again we see reunion unlocks the latch.
upon abyss we were exiled, from the land that we had tread
we welcome eyes glued with our gaze like hunger cured by bread
this dream is one I wish be true, a prophecy in tact
unfolding somewhere future lurks a fiction morphs to fact.
I'll see your smile and know without a doubt
that we will surely win
that day united we will be us
hand in hand again.
9/21/09
Sawed asunder as the silence thundered
brightening clarity that hones no doubt
that the passion once red has cooled
as rain turned snow.
what else should I think
or even think to know?
except that which drives a broken heart
as the graphs do show the ink right off the chart
I'm abandoned by the day's light watching only dark
my legs they run in thin air,
though feet stands upon the park
the tears they drop like fallen rain; a glass eyed lifeless lark
I am recalling good times like ghosts of lover's past
standing watching us kiss, and hope that's not the last.
for somehow hopes a burning flame rekindled by a match
the two of us again we see reunion unlocks the latch.
upon abyss we were exiled, from the land that we had tread
we welcome eyes glued with our gaze like hunger cured by bread
this dream is one I wish be true, a prophecy in tact
unfolding somewhere future lurks a fiction morphs to fact.
I'll see your smile and know without a doubt
that we will surely win
that day united we will be us
hand in hand again.
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