Poem 9: Wailing for the Good Old Days

Poem 9: Wailing for Good Old Days

When we could sing and swing without consequence

We dance…. oooh we dance. The wind brushes our faces

His pants press the laces sewn beneath my skirt- tan…talizing

Josephine Baker by Michele Rosenthal

Josephine Baker by Michele Rosenthal

Him. We flirt. His eyes soothe. We move together; I close my eyes and

Open them as horns remind me how his hands are convincing but they don’t stop my feet from

twirling and dancing. I look around, and see that they all imagine he’s one of the

37 million brave on paper posters in bright ink and / or dull ink in rolled scrolls

Who did not come home; I’ve rented it enough space in my mind, but this here’s my time

and I’ll take this fine one though he’s not mine. His warmth is natural. My skin says so…

My body says so… I’ve sewn many of those and I best know that uniform-

in the factory, these teeth have sneakily torn many-a-thread to take them apart

So, you see, I bite, but it doesn’t hurt. “I can surely take them apart,”

I smile. I flirt and leave your heart in tact.

Wake relaxed to a crisp shirt and slacks

So when across wide seas- anywhere you sail the map

You will never fail to think back. Then

draw from my lips a slice of heaven to take- as you brave….

I hope you enjoyed this one as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, “Like” it here, share, and don’t forget to follow! -lovemeka



6 comments on “Poem 9: Wailing for the Good Old Days

  1. Greetings! I’ve been following your site for a long time now and finally got the courage to go ahead and give you a shout out from Dallas Texas! Just wanted to say keep up the fantastic job!

  2. Pingback: 3 Things My 3 *PICKS* Reminded Me About Getting Picked | Love Mekanism

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