Somekindapoetry

[somekindapoetry]

About a Girl

I get sad

When I don't hear back from her,

Even if it's 5 minutes

Whole Minutes

[somekindapoetry]

Protagonist

I've been reading lots of Murakami lately

And I've missed his words and his worlds.

It reminded me of how I want to live my life,

To live the life of his clichéd male protagonists.

Before things get weird and abstract of course;

Holed up in a well, sleeping with my mum, encountering a small person that is merely an Idea.

I want to live the life of being alone,

Consuming coffee, making spaghetti

Pinching myself to make sure I'm still alive.

Drinking whiskey

Maybe having sex with someone every so often,

Listening to music

Pinching myself to make sure I'm still alive again.

Making sure my nails are all clipped,

Happy with my own company

And finally pinching myself to wake up from

This dream.

[somekindapoetry]

She Said

'Just remember that me without you is unbearable'.

And that's all I need to know and hear and understand.

[somekindapoetry]

The Bubble

It's hard being in the bubble sometimes.

Just her and me, it should be simple.

Life in the bubble is not always so

Simple when I prod the membrane.

The bubble is only strong when we're

Both keeping it strong, maintaining its

Surface every day. It has to be fortress.

It cannot burst.

I keep on leaving it for a bit; to get some fresh air,

Time to decompress and deal with life on the outside.

That's what I tell myself at least.

The bubble is easy in our hotel rooms,

In the hotel foyer, having dinner,

Smoking outside.

No one else around. Easy.

It's the exterior noise, people,

That pose a 'danger' to our own self inflicted danger.

The future needs the bubble,

As much as the bubble needs the future.

[somekindapoetry]

The Rule

On our way to the hotel,

A Swiss chalet style building.

Snow on the ground, how perfect.

She starts to undress down to her underwear

As I drive.

She tells me that I can't touch her.

The Rule.

She starts to put her fingers between her legs,

I catch a glimpse when I can.

She puts her fingers to her lips,

Saying, it tastes good.

I'm still not allowed to touch.

She puts her fingers down there again,

Then softly puts them to my lips.

I taste. She was right about the taste.

Now I can touch her, she says.

No more of the Rule.

I put my left hand between her legs,

I am touch softly, fingers go slightly inside her.

I put my fingers to her mouth, not softly.

I put my fingers to my mouth.

She stops me touching again.

She doesn't want to cum in the car.

She wants to cum with me inside her.

Not softly.

[somekindapoetry]

Two Lives

I live two lives

One is spent in my home with my girlfriend,

One is spent in hotel rooms with another.

The first is safe, secure, the usual, leisurely.

The second is dangerous, invigorating, dark and time spent fucking.

The first is what I should stick with...

Some might say.

The second is what I should quit...

Some would probably say.

These two lives are something that i

Can't quit.

Two different types of addiction

Feeding different parts of me.

I know they'll end of up quitting me,

Which is the least that I deserve.

[somekindapoetry]

Tanka

I've been reading some Japanese poetry recently.

I know she'd like it. It truly is wonderous.

Tanka. Pure tanka. Such beauty and connection

With nature.

The way it should be.

[somekindapoetry]

Short Hair

She wants short hair

So do I.

The only difference is my laziness and

Indifference for the majority of opinion time.

I could cut it,

And cut any friction.

I almost cut my hair as Crosby

Once famously sung.

The hair cut is really just a metaphor for

Our relationship.

[somekindapoetry]

Be the best Brautigan

I don't know where the feather starts.

And where it starts to feel nice.

These last two weeks haven't felt great,

With a lack of softness throughout.

A cold blanket of dampness

And distance.

No Italian love to be found here.

[somekindapoetry]

A Request

Sex: it's been a while. Not too long though.

It's not the best. She cums. I cum.

But still not the best.

Love: it's been about 4 years. More?

She left. Me behind. Love all behind us.

Relationship: there is one. See above for information.

Sadness: sad that I don't have what I want.

Want what I can't have and touch.

[somekindapoetry]

New poems: where are they???

The poems are all in my head! Kinda, maybe. Maybe the odd line or two.

[somekindapoetry]

She Came In Through The Bathroom Window

She came over last through the rain,

The evening was fun all around,

She still doesn't like being licked out.

Poor me...

This afternoon we walked through my village

Played Scrabble (I won of course),

I made pizza, I made coffee.

She was meant to leave at 4pm,

But she didn't.

She wanted to have sex,

But all I wanted to do was be on my own.

My choices are somewhat suspect..

[somekindapoetry]

Maybe it's time to get a haircut,

It's getting too long for normal society.

I touch my hair whilst reading in my office,

All I want to do is read Carver and Steinbeck,

And finish a short story to send in to some journals.

I'd like to read you the story here,

There's a nice comfortable old chair by my desk for you to lounge.

I could read you my terrible words whilst

You close your eyes,

Trying to block out the sound of the rain.

You trying to enjoy my words.

After the story we could walk in the rain,

Stare at the horses in the fields, try and get them over to us; one usually comes over. I've named him Red.

Once home, we could lie down on the bed

Where you could read me some of your words

Whilst I close my eyes and think this is perfect.

[somekindapoetry]

She Doesn't Like

She doesn't like the Beatles

She doesn't like R.E.M

She doesn't like being licked out.

She just wants to be.

I want to be out of this conundrum,

I mean, come on, who doesn't like those things?

[somekindapoetry]

Make It All Okay

[somekindapoetry]

Thorn in My Pride by The Black Crowes

Better than an orgasm, plus it lasts longer.

[somekindapoetry]

Meet the Beatles

Sitting in the garden

Drinking coffee, smoking,

Watching the goldfinches on the fence

Hearing the wrens' bird calls.

It's a wonderful thing,

To enjoy.

Reading a Norwegian fiction book

That deals with loneliness, sex

And trying to see yourself truly.

Thinking about the date I went on yesterday

And then the rejection message I received.

That book got it spot on,

I have to hand it to her and her

Fixed Ideas