Wants
like an ocean,
deep and untamed,
surround me.
What vast presence
I may not have
even in many bucketful.
Warm and wet
are your laps,
leaving my senses
in auto flip-flop.
Such keen pleasure
you rest in your chest
while chance after chance,
a child I remain.
Until I’m worn
from asking
I’ll never know
that all is
vain.
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I picture you reading this at an open-mic in front of all people…and you’re voice will take people’s breaths away with your words.:)
Hehe…I’ve not had such an opportunity, but I definitely look forward to it. Thanks.
The wonderful thing about literature is that it can touch people. Time and geography are not impediments. Dickens wrote in a different time and in a different place from what you know, yet you (we) still hear the echoes.
You’re absolutely right. Writing is one thing that connects people. Writers of old shape the ones for today. Thanks for your comment, Prospero.
This is beautiful. The words flow with ease and tell such an interesting story of what you want. I really like these lines:
“Such keen pleasure
you rest in your chest
while chance after chance,
a child I remain”
This poem is very heartfelt. Thank you for sharing 🙂
Glad you enjoyed it as well as I did. Just a tale of what man never have as he’s an insatiable being.