Tag: Baby

Baby Blues

How after 4 years, together, we see two indentations, on a mattress, the beauty sleeps, that become discolored impressions, You see, as a measure of time. I can’t help smile, seeing my wife, keeps her legs hoisted in the air, to allow for the tadpoles to swim through by gravity, while a Sunday Times newspaper

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Becoming Parents

Duckface, luckface, quackface Mugface, mobface, pokerface, jokerface The many faces of a selfie.  How there are so many versions To what the arms extend, And an aperture records As stilled time. How my wife and I, on holiday, Take a selfie, knowing That the space between us, That erased its own daylight, Will one day

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Child or No Child

Indecision, tolling away, Superman looking at a rock of kryptonite, The diamond in my pocket, At a plush restaurant in town. The forever after, the promise, I possess. A vintage wine, And the cork that I spilled open Inside of her little crack. The conclusion that tantalizes, The two lines on a pink strip. The

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A Valentine’s Day Poem 2

  The empires we built With hand, heart and lips And the one room we couldn’t fill With the confluence of my little passengers To your little planets And in our twilight we will look back Fondly at our crumbling exteriors And wonder why A little tumbling ball of cells Was beyond any sky or

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Resolutions

The clock is about to strike 12 And you think of all the possibilities Of the reductionist in you, who will boast Of keeping a resolution till February And that’s about how long a resolution lasts. Before getting marriage, it is usually Not to watch porn, and then you realize After you get married, it’s

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2017

My wife had put on the colorless base For a painting in burgundy, cutex She calls it and that little brush Paints little keratin canvases With a single coat of color She knows we will be at Hilton In a couple of hours, partying with friends. She had photographed and sent Pictures of three evening

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Nucleosynthesis

I’m a little confused, still wondering which constellation Collapsed in a mass suicide to give way to an orgasm At least one feels like that – and the inverse appears to be true too Like when my wife quakes through her fault lines And she tells me, she has never had an orgasm till our

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The Angelus

Dawn opens with a ring of the church bell And a little light creeping through the curtain. We are woken by the Angelus. And I make love to my wife. As I search for Gabriel Every time she milks my nuke – nuclear material That can cross the generation rift. It seems the Angelus gives

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