Tuesday, July 19, 2011

The Contents of a Mother-Son Talk Over Brandy and Cider

*This and "something said in passing" is my attempt to build a cohesive colletion of poems, under the tentative title of "Geneology", dealing with themes of family, not just my own but in a general sense as well. Your criticism of all my works is greatly appreciated, because I dont believe I am every truely done with any of my writings. Thanks so much enjoy.*

*also posted on dVerse poets pub grand opening!!!!*

Her fingers
were the first to fall in love
with him-
attempting to tame
the wild threads of his hair-
as the two of them held onto
the trembling frame of his motorcycle.
At least that is what I gather
from stories I have heard
in times when they seemed much
still in love with
the way the wind
ripped through the hair on their arms
at, onehundredmilesperhour-
still in love with
the pinky-swear grasp they had
on their eternity.


  1. cool verse...i love pinky swears...and the opening scene on the fingers in the hair...great...loved it...

  2. I remember what is was like to feel "The way the wind ripped through the hair on their arms" Great images here.

  3. I'm afraid I'm somewhat of a coward and prefer the safety of 4 wheels!

    Still a vivid write.
    Nice to meet you for the opener.

  4. Yeah four wheels is more for me too haha, but wonderful job descripting the whole scene with your words. I do like the wind ripping through the hair one my arms though, great line there.

  5. really good poem. i love the imagery of the first two lines. evocative and inviting, all at once.

    great job!

  6. Beautiully romantic. Love "her fingers were the first to fall in love with him"