Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Little Bear Apr 2016
it's 12 degrees and sunny
and all the rainbows are asleep
in their slumber all is quiet
and in my heart their love I keep

it's 12 degrees and sunny
though the clouds may threaten rain
still the garden grows quite glorious
they love me not and back again

it's 12 degrees and sunny
with eyes of winter blue
the seasons often changing
as they are inclined to do

it's twelve degrees and sunny
smiling eyes of earthy brown
give pleasure to the gardener
from sun up to sun down

it's twelve degrees and sunny
they make everyday like spring
their love will put the stars to shame
with the rainbow skies they bring
For my children
x
Little Bear Apr 2016
they were my works of art
and you gave them away
you imagined them for me
but you gave them to mere passersby

you painted a world of
watercolour dreams
oils of glorious skies
nights drew in with charcoals

drawing abstract stars
and graffiti moons
that shone over our love of love
our waterfall of wondrous things

but now the paint has dried
it cracks and you give slithers of it
to every passing fancy that looks your way
to muses with Mona Lisa smiles

my works are gone
given out as sweet treats
honey for the flies
catching the artists eye

and I fade to black
charcoal underlines my eyes
and not even my abstract stars shine
Little Bear Apr 2016
Kisses full and soft
as my wanton mouth
indulges
in every inch of you

I taste your pleasure
as silken ambrosia
upon my lips
my tongue

your pleasure is my want
your taste is my prize
your mind I worship
as your body
I eagerly devour

and in my complete submission
to your every desire
and every pleasure

I am yours
Little Bear Apr 2016
My reactions they are real
every word I say is true
out my mouth comes trouble
there's no time to think it through

so if I tell you you are perfect
I really think it's true
and if I tell you that I love you
I'll believe I really do

if I'm happy I clap my hands
like a mad demented seal
but at least you'll know I'm happy
I can't help but keep it real

my mind works overtime
but my mouth's one step ahead
some of the **** I come out with
wishing I'd stayed silent instead

but my reactions are all real
and i'm holding nothing in
if you to me are perfect
I will tell you everything

I will tell you you are magic
I will tell you are smart
I will tell you your a genius
and your poetry's an art

I will squeal when you say nice things
I will cry when I am sad
I will call you a **** weasel
when you have made me mad

I don't pretend to be amazing
I won't act like someone else
because the truth is very clear
it's hard enough to be myself.
shy, introverted, anxiety driven,
socially awkward nervous wreck.
I wish I had an off button.
Little Bear Apr 2016
So.. I went on a date, at least I think it was a date..
Okay.. I'm going to call it a date because,
if it wasn't..
I'm not entirely sure what it was.

Okay so.. the story goes like this...

It was July last year,
I was walking home from work and I passed
an elderly neighbours house.
If he is ever in his garden we say hello,
but never much more than that.

This time he was talking to a man
who was also in his garden,
turns out he was a family friend
and was visiting for the day.
He also lives nearby.

As I walked by,
the neighbour said 'Hello' and so did I..
The friend said hello too
and watched me walk past and down the road to my street,
where upon I looked back to see if any cars were coming
so I could cross the road,
only to see this friend watching me..

So..
two days later,
again I was walking home
and a car pulls up beside me..
people are always asking for directions so,
I thought this person might need directions..
But It was the friend of my neighbour..
His name is Skeletor.
(just humour me okay...)

He asked me if I was going to talk to him,
if I would like to go out for a drink,
if I would want to get to know him..

I totally was unprepared for this
and so I said
'I don't know and I don't know and...
yeah..
I don't know' ...

I then said I had to go
because I needed to go
and so I said
'i'm sorry but I have to go"
and I went...
I am not very good at the talking to strangers thing..

So..
two days later,
I was walking to the bus stop,
a car pulls up and ...
you guessed it...
It was Skeletor.

He asked if I wanted a lift to work and we could talk..
you know,
get to know each other.
I declined as politely as I could
and I said that,
I didn't know him
and I would get the bus to work because
'oh look...there's a bus right now...
thank you,
you are welcome and goodbye'

So..
two days later I was walking home
and driving up my street was Skeletor...
He pulls over and winds down his window
and said "Hey.. how are you..?"
and so we talk for a little while
and he tells me that he would like to take me out..
and can he have my number..

So..
I give him my number
and he calls it and I then have his..
he said he would like to call me
and would I like to go out for a drink.

So to cut a very loooong story short...

Two days later he texts me
and asks if I would like to meet him..

Firstly.. no...

But then...
he is someones family friend that I almost know,
I know his name and have his number...
I also have his car registration number...
and I told all my kids exactly what was happening.

And how will I ever meet anyone
if I don't actually...
meet anyone.?

So I said yes.
He seemed nice and,
even if a little persistent,
he seemed okay.
So I said yes..

He said he would text me and he did,
we arranged to meet 8pm on Saturday,
it was 25th of July..
two days before my birthday.

Saturday came..
it was 7.55pm and I was completely nervous
and just knew I would fuckit all up somehow.

8.05 and nothing...
8.11 and I let down my hair and hung up my bag.
8.19 and I'm making coffee,
hoping for a quiet night in.
and then he texts me..

'Hi it's Skeletor,
do you still want to go out...?
I can pick you up in 5 minutes...'

So I take off my slippers,
clean my teeth for the eighth time
and wait at the top of my road.
He pulls up and I get in his van..

I told my kids who I was with,
his number, his name, the car reg...
everything..
and they were to text me at 10pm
to ask if I needed to come home..
they would call me if I said yes or didn't answer.

We drove to a pub but,
on the way we talked about how neither of us really drank very much and so I said,
could we go and feed the ducks and have a milkshake..?
You know..
just something simple and fun..

He said 'yeah sure'
and that's what we did...
well kind of...

So we get milkshakes and go to the lakes..

I text my kids where we would be
while he got the milkshakes..

We pull up but we don't get out of the van..
he just wants to talk..
So I ask what he does at work
and he said he works in London,
so I ask what he does at work
and he said he works in a big complex...
and so I ask how he knows my neighbour
and he said he has known them for years
and so I ask how he knows my neighbour
and he said he is a family friend...

ugh... it was such hard work...

I ask him what his surname is because Skeletor is pretty unusual
and he said yeah it is,
so I ask him what his surname is
and he said it is Eternian
He said it was ncerfveon;wc...
I said pardon
and he said ovncervhbo3chhf...

So I said "oh..."

So he said he was kind of tired and he yawns,
puts his arms behind his head and stretches..
he said that he had had a busy day at work
and he wanted to sit in silence for a while
and just listen to the sound of the ...
outside...

So...
this is what my mind was doing...

'Okay... I think he wants me to shut up.. but he wanted to talk.. and his eyes are closed...okay don't look at him because that's creepy, okay this is weird, I thought we were going to feed the ducks or something.. oh look.. ducks... two fat ducks... well this is fun.. I've got to the bottom of the milkshake and I can't **** the last bit because it so quiet in this van and... I think he's asleep... **** what if he goes to sleep..? how will I get home? no.. he's not asleep he flexing his muscles.. what? ummm what is he doing? why is he flexing his muscles with his eyes closed..? I want to drink this last bit of milkshake.. I'm trying to be quiet.. he said to be quiet.. and oh look GEESE!!!  ****... I think he's asleep... this is weird... he is definitely flexing his arm muscles and okay don't look because it's creepy and he would think you are weird...I think It's getting dark... I am being so quiet... what if he's dead..? **** what if he dies...? please don't be dead... nope not dead.. he's flexing again... okay this is *******... oh look.. geese"

And he kind of wakes up a bit and looks at me,
smiles and says
'Did you know you are beautiful ?'
and he touches my face...
and I said 'well ummm thank you'
and he said
"You have lovely eyes,
they are so pretty
and your lips are so kissable...
I can't think why you are still single..
I could look at your lips forever,
you know...
your lips would look lovely..."

And my phone rings...

And I am just so relieved...
and so,
to celebrate,
I loudly drink the last bit of my milkshake...

And so I say I have to go home..
it's late and my kids need me to head home now..
And so he drives me home
and sings all the way home in the car to me...
and I am so glad we are heading back
and I just want to go home.

And he pulls up at my house
and I say
'Thank you for a lovely evening,
and thank you for the milkshake,
it was very kind of you to take me to almost feed the ducks.."
and he leans in to kiss me.

I open the door and shakeing his hand I say
"Thank you Skeletor" once more.
I jump out of the van,
close the door and go very quickly home...

Where upon,
for the next half an hour,
I lay on the floor in the kitchen,
relaying the whole sorry tale
to children who think this is both hilarious
and very dangerous.
They happily tell me
"And this is exactly why you are single"..

They make me coffee
and tell me I am very special
and need a very special kind of person
to put up with me...

Especially one who actually feeds the ducks
when they say they will feed the ducks...



I will say though..
I kept the paper straw cover like a little keepsake
of my first 'date'
in about 46 thousand years :)
NB. Names have been changed to protect the innocent.
Skeletor was not his real name.
Little Bear Apr 2016
They say you should write about what you know.
And I have... mostly.
but..
I don't want to write about love..
because i'm not in it.
And I don't want to write about hate..
that hurts my heart and feels wrong for me.
And I don't want to write about marriage because,
quite frankly, I am so done with that subject.
And religion? honestly..?
hahaha!
I kid you not..
you would not believe who I was
for the last 25 years.
I won't write about politics because in truth..
it confuses me..
I have a simple mind that only wishes
every one would just get a long.

I could write of peace..
anxiety..
dreams..
hobbits..
work..
cats...?

Oh! Oh! I know...
I could write about all the *** i'm
not... having....
yeah I thought not.

And so,
I am all out of things to write about.
My cup is well and truly empty right now...

and needs filling with some coffee.

So...
I think I need to go on an adventure...
:o)
  Apr 2016 Little Bear
Nigel Finn
This is how you write a poem;
First; forget everything
You ever learnt about poems,

                                Such knowledge should be reserved
                                For the minds of critics, and
                                Professors in dusty halls

                                                          ­­           Of universities, where
                                                           ­          They are dissected and re-
                                                             ­        Constructed against their will.

Second; embroil yourself in
Love; it is the only thing
That poetry is born from.

                            Even the saddest songs, and
                            Most bitter lines, are fueled
                            By what we once loved. Loss is

                                                            J­­ust a love that has been lost
                                                            ­­And anger; a love scorned. All
                                                            y­­our words will be born this way.

Thirdly; find a quiet spot;
It doesn't matter much where
As long as it brings comfort,

                             Be it an old desk in a
                             Darkened room, or a field of
                             tall Sunflowers or bluebells,

                                                     ­ ­       Or the last place you saw a
                                                             Loved one, before fate swept them
                                                            ­­ Away to distant valleys.

Next you must make a promise to
Yourself to be brutally
Honest. Only the truth must

                              Be written here. There is no
                              Room for flowery words that
                              Must be thought over to much.

                                                          ­­   If it is true it will be
                                                             Beautiful, and your pen strokes
                                                         ­    Will guide you towards greatness.

Finally, you must hold your
Writing implement of choice
As if it were the most loved

                                 Of possesions, or mighty
                                 Of weapons, or a  child's hand.
                                 I cannot tell you which

                                                          ­­ But you will undoubtedly
                                                     ­      Know which when the time comes. It
                                                           Will strike you as obvious.

Upon following these steps
You will have become a
poet. From now on there

                                Is no turning back. It will
                                Consume you, and thoughts will take
                                You by surprise in lover's

                                                        ­­  Embraces, in sudden deaths,
                                                         ­ Bird songs, and the words of of those
                                                          Y­­ou once thought to be strangers.

Each word will be a gift to
The world, whilst remaining un-
doubtedly yours to own.

                                        Use your power wisely.
                                        Remember; without love
                                        Your poems will start to

                                                             ­        Fall into disrepair
                                                       ­              And, without them you will
                                                            ­­         Lose your capacity to care.

I wish you well.
                                    I wish you poetry.
                                                         ­      ­           I wish you love.
I'm planning on giving this one a rewrite, but I rarely get around to doing such things. I'm posting it mostly as a reminder to myself that I set out to do something. There's a good chance it will remain unfinished though.
Next page