Pop Gondola : Ramblin Roads

If going to war is your solution then going to hell is your destination

Almost Grown Up

Almost Grown Up

We were far too young

But you had a woman’s body

Shapely and magnetic

And I was stripped of subtlety

We went for a walk across the fields

Near where you lived

I was wondering what might happen

If your mother saw us holding hands

Or your father saw us kissing

 The fear couldn’t destroy my interest

In what you might look like under those clothes

I put my arm around you

And tried to conceal the beating of my heart

 We stopped and looked around

And then lay down in the wheat grass

Where the stalks welcomed us with a courtesy

And made room for us

 We giggled ourselves into a serious look

And gulped at what we were thinking

We touched and I saw your soft skin

I could not see or hear anything else

 We wrestled unintentionally

Arms and hands searching

For something to hold

Half scared and half dressed

 Our breathing chased itself in circles

The sun was beating on my back

We attempted the feat

Of trying to be grown up

 Every noise tainted by the fear

Of being discovered

Was that the grass rustling or is someone

Heading our way?

 It was impossible

We had to postpone things

Until another day

Although we at least did something

To help us on our way

 ©JMcN2010 (aka pop gondola)

This is a pic I took close to where I live. It was a cold winter’s morning. I thought the field looked like a neglected war memorial cemetary so I wrote a poem about it - which won an award! Nature’s War This cold November dayHas thrown open its doorsTo see more of what it can do Across the fields I treadTowards a grey horizonWatched by cloudsthat loiter with intent. The cropped stalks of cornFrozen in the groundLean like worn crucifixesAbandoned in a battlefieldLong after the battle cry A sheet of snowCovers the dead Footprints from creaturesAre woven inbetweenThe lifeless The wind whips, bites and nipsAs it dances with the cold that gripsCircling flesh and boneSlowing the tempoTo a shivering still There is a sneaking sunMaking shadows of stripped treesCarved into history Like frozen shipsUpon a static sea (C) JMcN (aka Pop Gondola) 2011

This is a pic I took close to where I live. It was a cold winter’s morning. I thought the field looked like a neglected war memorial cemetary so I wrote a poem about it - which won an award!

Nature’s War

This cold November day
Has thrown open its doors
To see more of what it can do

Across the fields I tread
Towards a grey horizon
Watched by clouds
that loiter with intent.

The cropped stalks of corn
Frozen in the ground
Lean like worn crucifixes
Abandoned in a battlefield
Long after the battle cry

A sheet of snow
Covers the dead

Footprints from creatures
Are woven inbetween
The lifeless

The wind whips, bites and nips
As it dances with the cold that grips
Circling flesh and bone
Slowing the tempo
To a shivering still

There is a sneaking sun
Making shadows of stripped trees
Carved into history

Like frozen ships
Upon a static sea

(C) JMcN (aka Pop Gondola) 2011

As a narcoleptic addicted to viagra I usually sleep a couple of inches away from either the sheet or the mattress.

—my head