O, What Autumn Lovers Seek

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  • GeniusMan
  • When push comes to shove, conga lines can get pretty ugly.

Poem Commentary

Poetry is an emission of emotion that steams up from your gross acne covered pores when you need something else done. Some of us emit much more, expect much less or wish so much to be better. To aspire to expire. But, I, liking this girl so much, hate that all I can do is patiently write this when what I really want to do is be with her. It erks me like peeve unpetted. But I've got work to do, and she will have to wait, bite my tongue, but she will have to wait.

O, What Autumn Lovers Seek

O, what autumn lovers seek
The leaves like other aspirations
Fall upon the ground
And sleepless nights of winded swells
Tossed and turned
Lost and churned
I cannot bare it, but I must go on

My lust springs up
But I must quell it for you
O how I long to wrap you
To squeeze every inch
like a snake
But as a snake is the sin
I hold my split tongue

I'm aching in it
Every waking minute
I imagine a physigue
And place your face upon it
And nothing else upon my mind
will satisfy the need to touch it
To make it roll in laughter
To make it mine

I will be unfurled
This madness like a spiral
And when this patience snaps
And comfortable, I
Then it will be time
And I will do more than hug you
Or tease you
But please you
In the Christian sense,
but maybe someday more

Oh halt, for God not far away
Knows everything you say
So, watch that empty restless bed
As well that heart inside your head
For patience will have it's victories
And trees will always grow new leaves 

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The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

GeniusMan’s Poems (63)

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