Her dress had gotten wet from sudden showers
I only had one thought, but it was strong:
I want to get that dress wet from the inside
And give her sudden rainfall all night long
Author: Beleaguered Servant
Owen Servant is an online poet working in a style that's been described as "compulsive". In real life, he is an actuary, because being a poet wasn't unpopular enough.
soul’s slow death
choices lead us where are,
many steps along the way;
then we look up and we’re lost –
where we were, so far away –
though we keep a smooth veneer,
there’s real truth behind the lie;
measuring afflicted souls
as they slowly go
to die
To share is human:
Adam Strange
I read this to my then-young son
Who let the tale unfold,
Then innocently asked me
“Why does the future look so old?”
To share is human:
Tonight’s Truth
Her husband left her, telling her that he
Just couldn’t go on anymore this way;
And so, in shock, still reeling from it, she
And our grandson are with us for a stay
And she – she cannot look me in the eyes,
Afraid that she will break completely down;
And when this fact I did at once surmise,
I backed away – but I am still around –
She fears to let the tears completely go
With her young son so very, very small;
And she her full attention turns to him,
To try to make some sense out of it all
My daughter, oh, I’d rip out my own heart
To ease the pain that’s just about
To start
To share is human:
Twelve Pictures
I’ve downloaded twelve pictures
Of this model today,
So I could post my poetry,
These things I want to say.
She called me on the phone, and said,
“I’m glad you like my work —
But it’s just getting creepy, now,
So you can stop,
You jerk.”
To share is human:
Secret Agent
He had designs on her,
And didn’t think she was aware;
If he had known just what she was
Then he would not have dared –
He made his move, but found he’d soon
Have to admit defeat:
You see, at undercover work
She never
Could Be
Beat
To share is human:
Pumpkin Spice
She said she knew I’d want some pumpkin spice,
I said I didn’t, and I never had;
She said before too long, you’ll change your mind,
And you’ll be begging for it
Really
Bad
To share is human:
What Love Brings
The love I celebrate is ‘everyday’;
Quite commonplace, no raptured shades of grey
It’s common people in their common place;
With young and old and every type of face
It’s not political, and not aggrieved –
It’s given freely; gladly it’s received
It’s love that while most high, is thought most low;
The type of love that isn’t there
For show
