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- A VERY EARLY MORNINGIn Poetry·November 8, 2023In the early of a very early morning, Amid obligations and duties undesired, I move calmly, serenely, steadfast In my purposes, To be the best I can be, To do today's tasks as best I can, To love with all my heart and soul... As every day. • Donovan Baldwin000
- YOU'D KNOW IT WAS A LIEIn Poetry·November 8, 2023You'd know it was a lie If I told you I did not Desire your body. You know me too well. But, when I say, I love you for your mind, Your playful, erotic, Artistic, poetic, Naughty and honorable mind, You believe that immediately. You know me too well. That may be why I may have to love you. • Donovan Baldwin001
- HAVE YOU HEARD THE SOUNDIn Poetry·November 8, 2023have you heard the sound the wild rush of love thrusting itself between us • Donovan Baldwin001
- READ UPON YOUR LIPSIn Poetry·November 8, 2023read upon your lips love words silently spoken yet written out loud • Donovan Baldwin000
- THE TOP AND BOTTOMIn Poetry·November 8, 2023pajama pieces top for you bottom for me left upon the floor • Donovan Baldwin000
- UNBUTTONING THE MOONLIGHT, AND A FEW STRAY POEMS FROM YESTERDAYIn Poetry·November 8, 2023slowly stripping her unbuttoning the moonlight which drapes her body ----- slipping into place our pieces fit together erotic puzzle ----- sees her simple smile seeks beauty within her eyes art of love revealed ----- confesses freely admits her guilt not her sins but someday she will • Donovan Baldwin001
- LET'S CHANGE IT UP, LOVE.In Poetry·November 8, 2023Let's change it up, love. Get OUT of bed, get dressed, Stroll hand in hand in public, Hitting bookstores and bowling alleys, Stopping for coffee and cake, And staring at one another, Face to face across the table, Feeding each other treats, Sometimes stopping to kiss, Smile at the memory of What we've done together, And whisper like schoolchildren, What we'll do when we get back home, And the door's shut behind us. • Donovan Baldwin001
- THE STORMIn Poetry·November 8, 2023The storm blew up as the Sun went down, Tossing the ship like a toy, Aloft, a sailor, in fear looked round, Face ashen, he was only a boy. "Captain! Captain! How can I survive, While this gale is blowing so strong? Will the Sun at dawn still find me alive, Or beneath this sea and gone?" "We depend on you, lad, to do the task, The sails must not rip away. I know it is much that we must ask", He heard his Captain say. The Captain and mates strove all the night, To save the ship and its crew. When the Sun began its daily flight, In a moment, the Captain knew... The lad had lost his chance to live, But had done his task to the end. There's not more the brave can give, Than their life for their fellow men. • Donovan Baldwin001
- I BECOME A POET... OR, BEER AND PRIESTSIn General Discussion·November 8, 2023"Let a man walk ten miles steadily on a hot summer's day along a dusty English road, and he will soon discover why beer was invented." - Gilbert K. Chesterton Two stories out of one quote: I remember one Christmas I visited my sister and her husband. He and I cut wood in the back yard for a while. When we came inside, from the cold, snowy yard, he gave me a beer. I was exhausted. The cold beer he handed me was a great pick-me-up. Number two: The quote is from Gilbert Keith Chesterton, who also wrote the "Father Brown" mysteries. When I was in catholic grade school, in Warrington, Florida, in the 1950's, Father Cunningham, a "dear little Irish priest" was supposed to give us a religion class once a week. Instead, he entertained us with Irish folk tales and Father Brown mysteries, much to the chagrin of the nuns who had to watch this abuse. Eventually, I came across a Father Brown mystery in a library, and started reading all of them...then all the mystery stories I could find, and science fiction, and westerns, and discovered that G. K. Chesterton also wrote essays. Essays led to other literature, and a small brown, leatherbound book of poems found in the garage of the home my parents bought in 1949, led to poetry. I began writing serions, i.e. non-teenage angst, poetry on bar napkins in Germany. One night, in Europe, where poetry was more respected than in the U.S., a(http://U.Sa) (http://U.Sa)German woman, who spoke excellent English, saw me writing, and, glancing over my shoulder, said, "Ach! You're a poet!" It was said with respect, and she picked up my poem, read it, nodded, and returned it, saying, "Very good!" That was the first time I ever considered myself a poet. After that, from time to time in groups of German and Polixh people I spent time with, I was introduced with, "He's a poet...", and the poeple would smile and nod and occasionally ask what I had written or did I want to recite a poem. It was the first time I had been identified as ME, and individual person with a personal art. It's partly because of beer, Father Cunningham, and Father Brown that I eventually read my way from one end of the Pensacola Public Library to the other, began writing poetry and never looked back. Although I have had a few poems published in print media, it's because of the internet that I have been able to place so many poems before so many people. • Donovan Baldwin000
- SHE APPEARSIn Poetry·November 8, 2023Within these swirling mists of my mind, Mingled dreams of desire and hope, Passed a figure, a lady designed, Created by my romantic mind, Seasoned and shimmering, With past experience Future fantasy and Ideal imagination. Impossible she, Yet, appears, Becoming Reality, Now. • Donovan Baldwin000
- Over eattingIn PoetryNovember 8, 2023Take pen in hand and the poetry flows. Fill yourself with savory delights, but save some for others.00
- Over eattingIn PoetryNovember 8, 2023Saucy...00
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