Old Poetry II – After Shower
Back in the day, when I was about twenty-two and a bit later, ’til about twenty-six, I wrote poetry. I haven’t written a real poem in a very long time. I used to be so into poem writing that I would go to “open-mics” and read my poems with my friend and brief-boyfriend Calvin. Calvin was significantly older than me, and unfortunately, the relationship didn’t quite work out on my end.
Calvin and I would go to the Mercury Café in Denver and read poetry, and we’d also go to a place called the Kasbah. What’s interesting about that is that Calvin and I were two white gay guys, and the Kasbah (or Casbah) was a mainly African-American lounge that had a poetry night. So we’d show up and we’d be the only two gay white guys amidst a see of strong black poets. It was a little bit daunting.
Of course, I decided to try my hand at being a “spoken word” artist and composed a SUPER long poem. I tried to pull it off and I was clapped offstage (or played offstage) at both the Mercury and the Kasbah… very embarrassing. After that, and the fact there was a shooting at the Kasbah one night I didn’t go, and my interest in open-mic’ing kinda died out.
I used to host all my poetry, both good and bad, on my website, but it’s been a long time since I’ve done that. I’ve decided to, after approximately fourteen years, reshare the poetry that I wrote as a teenager and young adult.
Some of it is cringe, and some of it’s not quite so bad. You be the judge.
Slow dancing in the after shower, Our wet hair dripping on our skin, Some moments seem so dark and poignant, I wish my thoughts could make the world stand still, You touch me where few can, And this may be all we get to have, Before we change the world for good, I rest my head on your chest, Listen to the sound of life, Darkness lit by sumnambulent moonlight, Try in vain to push back the dawn, Hold you until the tears run dry, Slip finally, effortlessly, into sleep, Where no one can ever hurt.
Looks like I was in a very sensual relationship at this time. I mean, we’re showering together so that’s something. I like this one more than the last one. It’s more of an actual poem, but I wouldn’t say it’s the strongest.
Stay tuned for Old Poetry III