Short poems

The soft touch game.

The soft touch game.

20/05/2018

You like to play the soft touch game don’t you?

Soft touch. I like you.

I’m taking this.

Soft touch. I love you.

I’m taking that.

Soft touch. You’re special.

I want a gold cat on a marble pedestal with a purple saxophone and a multigym with a personal trainer.

Soft touch. I’ll see you later.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Kindness & kings.

Kindness and kings.

01/06/2018

So kind the way his strong fingers play with your mind.

tussling your hair, starting to bind.

Hex threads with a kneading stress releasing duress.

The ultimate pain confession that’s heaven no less.

You’re the fork in the road in which he gets to trespass.

Begone dark memories and clouds galore.

Clarity in a moment wiped clean to the floor.

Purge the resistance and taken in totality.

I’ll be your man. You’ll be reality.

You might nurse heartache and blisters.

You’ll never forget the way he kissed ya.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Heart of the home.

Heart of the home.

24th June 2018

Thigh high raised skirts, hot legs on brick walls so tall it hurts.

Two wafers at a bad church, I want to nibble the equivalent fibble.

The groups can’t interact for unmentionable counteracts and I’m humdrum, I fail to react.

Sunstroke teasing, eye pleasing, fate deceiving, watching those good legs weaving.

I’m still habitually believing.

He said she was needy because she text “I miss you.” after a year together.

I think he’s lucky, our weather is too hot and clammy or too cold and withdrawn.

The perfect temperature is the heart of the home.

© G.P Williamson 2018

 

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Short poems

Megastorm.

Megastorm.

31/05/2018

If the megastorm comes and I do not wake know that I love you and you made my earth shake.

Don’t feel obliged to stay single your whole life, you’re a gorgeous woman and a perfect wife.

If the megastorm comes and I do not wake tell the girls I love them, they made my world shake.

Don’t feel obliged to let everybody in but respect your mum’s choices. You’re the honey, she’s the queen.

If the megastorm comes and I do not wake, know that true love can never, ever break.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Above all else.

Above all else.

10/06/2018

My hands feel their way.

They don’t need you for me to know my place.

My tongue doesn’t need you for me to know what I dislike.

My diary doesn’t need you to fill it in.

My heart doesn’t need you for me to love myself.

I want you.

I don’t need you.

Above all else.

© G.P Williamson 2018

 

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Short poems

The shoulder of the girl next door.

The shoulder of the girl next door.

27/05/18

What we like to plant doesn’t fruit for the seed is never watered.

I’ll say no more just wilt and wonder until they’re older.

Then who knows the nature of another’s shoulder?

Until I’m older.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

I don’t need it.

I don’t need it.

21/05/18

You can let me breath.

Release your grip.

Become tender, ease off a bit.

I need space, I need room.

I’m independent.

Kaboom!

Your choices, your decisions, your life.

It’s not mine, I don’t want twice.

It’s yours, live it, dream it and believe it.

Keep your choices for you alone.

I don’t need it.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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