. The Poet's Beat .

. The Poet's Beat .
"A working class citizen is apt to see this country for what it's worth... A miasma of interlocking variations on differing demographics and geographies unlike any other inhabited space in the world. The American Dream. The rolling footloose hills and the upstanding Apache badlands where criminals cut bread with priests and the children of Hollywood. I am no different. Yet I am still brazen enough to think that the world is a playground built by the rugged hands of a hard-working man in order that my fantasies be materialized." -- P.P. Vonnersdale

Saturday, November 5, 2016

Had You Had

Had you the talent,
or the madness maybe,
had you had the courage to capture fire, baby,
sip lust from the lady - that water bird
who rises just after dusk,
she sifts through the weeds hushed,
hunting for kind boys,
to coddle,
to kiss,
to crush,

if one hasn't been cruel yet
one simply must,
I beg you if you would,
if you could,
forgive me for losing your trust,
for rushing in with no end in mind,
touching what I shouldn't touch,

had you had what it takes,
the stakes would not need be raised so much,
lost sheep sleep in fear,
and the devil sleeps at our feet,
below the dust,

had you had a friend when none were had,
someone who would come when called in a rush,
perhaps your rusty heart would still be beating
and not permanently shushed.



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