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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Life Experience
- Published: 04/07/2013
IN THE CASTLE OF YOUR DREAMS
M, from Baltimore, Maryland, United StatesIN THE CASTLE OF YOUR DREAMS
In the castle of your dreams
I learned too much too late
three months hands bound to hard labor
in apron strings hung hammers that nailed
sacred sinners sentenced hounded and held in holy hell
where I came upon a midnight foggy
the cause of my car crashing into the culture and care
of the sun dead flowers by the trickling barely a brook
where bigotry flowed more easily than empathy
compounding the confounding of my happy anonymity
masking the sanguine anguish over the kinking of my hair
mussed by the gusts of wind mixed with the spray of the sea
from my rocket ship mind
I learned too fast too much
moving my mood towards the moon's murmuring
at its alien environs applying the mind's eye to dissonant experiences
and my own memories making the mundane oh so munificent
pondering whether I should have shared my drink
wondering what I missed when denying that ride
with the goddess of speed whom I thanked for the read
before we wolfed right down...all that she could write up
about the lighthouse which took and tamed the tip
where the low tide pools pocked the dark wet sand
beyond the ocean wall the water appeared to hold
nothing more than the glistening of the sun
just as she spotted the fin prompting her
to climb down off the slippery jetty rocks
crossing the wide flats then wading right in
then roiling and splashing that tranquil pond
panicking that stranded fish to leap for the fatal beach
where she killed it with a stone...her delight lit the shore
the prize was hers to gut clean and cook...a delicious macabre dish
after I learned too much too fast
from the looks of you I knew
I could not be the only man
to suffer the stunning malady
over your drop dead beauty
a beacon no doubt shining
as much within as without
trapped by the rap bouncing back
at this ping pong poem in a jolly volley
between baby bambi and the honest buck
for sex to feel right we must go deep
into an ache as tight as a linen closet
buried within the castle of your dreams
to find something in sorrow's seed...we need
by L Douglas St Ours
March 2013
IN THE CASTLE OF YOUR DREAMS(L Douglas St Ours)
IN THE CASTLE OF YOUR DREAMS
In the castle of your dreams
I learned too much too late
three months hands bound to hard labor
in apron strings hung hammers that nailed
sacred sinners sentenced hounded and held in holy hell
where I came upon a midnight foggy
the cause of my car crashing into the culture and care
of the sun dead flowers by the trickling barely a brook
where bigotry flowed more easily than empathy
compounding the confounding of my happy anonymity
masking the sanguine anguish over the kinking of my hair
mussed by the gusts of wind mixed with the spray of the sea
from my rocket ship mind
I learned too fast too much
moving my mood towards the moon's murmuring
at its alien environs applying the mind's eye to dissonant experiences
and my own memories making the mundane oh so munificent
pondering whether I should have shared my drink
wondering what I missed when denying that ride
with the goddess of speed whom I thanked for the read
before we wolfed right down...all that she could write up
about the lighthouse which took and tamed the tip
where the low tide pools pocked the dark wet sand
beyond the ocean wall the water appeared to hold
nothing more than the glistening of the sun
just as she spotted the fin prompting her
to climb down off the slippery jetty rocks
crossing the wide flats then wading right in
then roiling and splashing that tranquil pond
panicking that stranded fish to leap for the fatal beach
where she killed it with a stone...her delight lit the shore
the prize was hers to gut clean and cook...a delicious macabre dish
after I learned too much too fast
from the looks of you I knew
I could not be the only man
to suffer the stunning malady
over your drop dead beauty
a beacon no doubt shining
as much within as without
trapped by the rap bouncing back
at this ping pong poem in a jolly volley
between baby bambi and the honest buck
for sex to feel right we must go deep
into an ache as tight as a linen closet
buried within the castle of your dreams
to find something in sorrow's seed...we need
by L Douglas St Ours
March 2013
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