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“Give me one reason why I should stay with you.”

He replied “I’ll give you fifty nine!

When you talk to me and I seem like I’m not paying attention to what you say, you’re probably right, I was counting fifty nine eye lashes on your left eye.

When you yell at me and I don’t yell back, I was giving you fifty nine excuses for your anger with me and justified them all.

When you don’t like how much I work, I was thinking of our fifty ninth anniversary and how I would give you another fifty nine in a heartbeat.

Speaking of heartbeats, I remember counting yours as you sleep, and how you’re in perfect sync with the clock, sixty beats per minute. So I measured my own heart and noticed it was exactly like yours except for the last one as it skips one beat for you.

Can you give me one excuse why you should leave?”

-W.E.

Nightwriter-1

nightwriter

 

I’ve written about why I write in the past. This is how I write.

He loved by devoting himself to his art.
His art was only realised at night.

In the throes of anti-matter dust,
In the throes of loves arrow thrust,
In his minds madness trust,
In his blood thirsty nocturnal lust.

It all came to him half awake, half asleep,
Like Dali his mentor painting surrealist sweeps,
He’s the lyrical dreamer with spoon in hand,
Waiting for a wink of Loves command.

Off to work in the dusk he strains,
Eye bags, Eye Sores, Iris pounding, retina pain,
Awaiting his lot, for words to claim,
In the auction of poets where the asleep are slain.

-W.E.

Her sacred melody

ribs

He could play any six string guitar to the tingling of senses.

But strumming her six ribs was his masterpiece he reserved only for her


Some things have to remain sacred.

Love is being able to compose a masterpiece but leaving it only for the pleasure of one soul, despite knowing you could have any soul in the world by playing the haunting entrapment of its melody.

-W.E.

Poets Feast

Jordaens_King_Drinks

Tonight, we feast on words.
Even though we are separated by worlds.
Your ages so tender,
So full of splendour,
Colloquially speaking,
You’re mind benders.
And mine?
Battered, beaten and bruised,
Torn, healed, re-abused,
But, I remain amused.
At the possibilities ahead,
Just like you,
Open hearted to receive,
To conceive,
To achieve.
So raise the goblets in time,
And lets drink loves wine.

-W.E.

How bad do you want him?

14981628970_2bcc9550dd_b

 

“I want to be with you,
More than anything I want to be with…”

He interrupted her, “Really?”

She nodded with tears welling up in her eyes.

“Enough to want to see five of me?”

She paused as she struggled to comprehend.

“Because that’s how bad I want to be with you,
I want to see your face recreated five times in children
we have.”

She didn’t reply

– W.E.