poet – Page 35

The Detective

troubled and brilliant
he evaluates the scene
always the detective

You’re so serious,

yet you act like such a weirdo.

fairy floss heart

too sweet and fickle

beating fluffy floss

single yellow rose
summer has not taken you
sometime soon she will

curious and cute
he’s hiding something
she’s a detective
hunting

Feet dipped into seawater,
naively she thinks.

Sensibility overcomes Sense,
uninformed feels.

Dreaming of make-belief,
unobtainable love.

She’d been caged for years;
uneducatedly, blind.

Sense overcomes Sensibility,
educated perspective.

Feet sit on the sea rocks,
reality sets within.

The dance floor.

A fever burning the timber,

the floor is perspiring fire vigorously.

Her mind was calm
until she saw
those pink roses.

Now, with his help,
she starts dissolving;
dissolving and
running into puddles.

She can’t stop the ache,
which clouds her mind and
blurs the pink roses.

There is only one cure;
only the trees need stare now.

The air is fresh upon her heart;
the sea feels cool today.

She’s looking out and back again,
as the world is different.

The air is full of silent screams;
the sea hears them well.

She’s horror-struck at the sound,
as death is so close now.

fresh beauty;
not manufactured tar souled chic.

free to wander;
cellulite and potholes add charm.

flowing grace;
supple hips and sharp-witted lips.