Poetry for our readers and fans across the globe. Sage Sweetwater, business artist and prolific content producer for Hollywood film.
Lord I Think I Hear My Name She's Burning
copper steeple
points fingers gps
locates afterhours
self-service we're in
god's gravel parking lot
vanity puts
it in park and
some male star cast
model raises its head
in reaffirmance of heavenly
quietude indulging in our privilege
pre-requisite of higher thinking and
mutual stroking your hand is lodestone
steeple iron oxide with the power of attracting
like a magnet we don't let go of it
insatiable squirming
the night's cobwebs clinging
below the steering wheel cocked
The Wheel turned before I shut the engine off
lord I think I hear my name she's burning
“god's gravel parking lot,” is a great line among several others. Finally, I have clearly understood one of your poems. Vickie has clearly enhanced what I was thinking. Surely this poem describes a real event. While it does not have any of the Hollywood hokey of exploding vehicles and deep intrigue with murderous intent, I was thoroughly titillated and enjoyed the movie while fornicating at the local gravel drive in theater view of the steeple pointing towards ecstasy. Copper is green, not rust red and I was green with envy.
‘I have to go back soon,’ says Adam one afternoon. Yes, I know he has to go back soon. He has to go back to London and to his job and his apprenticeship. He has taken the maximum number of days leave – he has taken his entire Summer holiday in the Sp
‘I have to go back soon,’ says Adam one afternoon. Yes, I know he has to go back soon. He has to go back to London and to his job and his apprenticeship. He has taken the maximum number of days leave – he has taken his entire Summer holiday in the Sp
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Nuf said.
Ron
dancing with the dashboard
free the slippery slitted fingers
& lets get stuck on the horn
neighbors are curious about all the noise
& the horn blasting & honking irratically
Vickie