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Friday, March 27, 2009

The Rude Awakening: a Poet’s Poetic Sojourn

Oh, I get it!!! She’s dressed for me… now fit to hit the party stream. Some drugs she took must’ve worked so soon; won’t mind to have such in my room. My hands aloft, put up a show… Trying to catch her attention so. Jumped up and down, joined by Mad Paul; the distance stretched… She moved along.

My gracious me!!! She’s dressed to kill… No pain again, just frills and thrills. I’m short of words, a speechless dumb… Could see but seem just like a dream. What wondrous drug could’ve calmed the dust; a while ago she moaned and fussed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad she’s up… Just bear with me; in shock, that’s all.

She didn’t see us as we waved; a sudden smile across my face. I felt so cool just watching Paul, drooling from Tracey’s awesome shorts. Excitedly I moved to meet my darling Tracey by a tree. I guessed she changed her mind and tried to take me on just by surprise.

A rude awakening beckons me as I moved towards her shadow spree. “Hunk” Hunk”… Car horn directs her path through grassy patch where it was parked. She hopped into a waiting car right in the darkened lover’s park. It dawned on me… Been played for real, witnessed a clip not meant for me.

I froze, so stiff… I couldn’t move, what transpired had just flipped my mood. I stare so deep into the dark, right where the dubious car was parked. It was so dark; dull lights of sort; knocks out the “bible study” thoughts. I’ve been a fool, am so bemused… How long have I been tricked and used?

Before my eyes, two shadows meet, within the car… Embrace for real. "What’s going on?"... You want a speech? You big “moron”! Stay there and frisk! Some subtle kiss and cautious peek; pinned down the doors, reclined the seats. I guess it’s time for her to "preach", “Within the dark?” Oh Yeah! You freak!

How could this be? So much deceit… The shame; my pals were there to see. I’m in a trance… exposed by chance; Oh Gosh, I wished I’d never… Damn! Amidst my pensive sordid state, behind, soft hands across my face. I’m blinded but it’s all a game… Guess who? Its Ann... Now out to play.

If only she could read my mind; what I’ve been put through by her kind. She’d know best not to grin or smile, my heart bleeds but could cope just fine. Not in the mood for fun and games, Mad Paul could read that from my face. “Hi Ann, what’s up?” I said, so flogged. Let’s go, let’s go… Left in a rush.
... Personal Inspiration and Motivational Poetry Collection

Epilogue:

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

love your style. these are fantastic... mad mad mad mad mad props!

Unknown said...

I truly like how you're telling your story through poetry. Kudos!

Freddie said...

Thanks for the encouragement... You're both appreciated.

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Douglas said...

The free-form is just top notch...classic story-telling. Thumbs up!