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To you who have loved. Poems inspired by both great and small. Often about love and with a touch of humour. Lawrence Gelmon has two Bachelor‘s degrees and lives in Stockholm, Sweden.
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Seitenzahl: 26
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018
To my parents
Feet
Room
The Plug
The Couch
Harp
Feet 2
Home
Whisky
Cuddle
Faraway
Anna
The Mead
The Darkness
Ideas
Buds
Espresso
Propose
Death
Home ground
Love
Dare
Ghost
Curiosity
Shadow
The cat
Fuck
The melody
Trolls
Distance
If
The seagull
The path
Away
Nothing
Elk
Often
Police
Rome
Flag
Teddy bear
Stallion
Morning
Thighs
Destroy
Strength
The apple
Bird
Soul
You
Second-rate
The moon
Arrow
Conversation
Sun
Love
Cheek
Open up
Thought
Lido
16
Cloud
Winter
Courage
Lead
Love
One night stand
Look
Equality
Hatred
The trees
Shot
Christmas
Marriage
Way
Stab
Dreamed
The death 2
Lady
Excited
Glance
Bury
Snow
Itching
Italy
East river
The punishment
Ironlady
The forest
Sophia
Elf
Brother
If 2
Dance
Quake
Memory
Demons
Boy
Sly dog
Destiny
Trivialities
Jack Frost
Smile with a tear
When the mist eases
I see you over there
in your white suit
How many times
have I thought
I will walk over
make love to her
fertilize her
give her my manhood
But my feet are stiff
I can’t get loose
I look and look
I remain standing
How you were
I may never know
It was when the flowers reaches their peak
when the days were long
the nights were balmy cool
and you were the most beautiful of all
We went all along the path
to get near to the ocean
which we both loved
as we loved each other
You said I could take you
to the end of the world
But I only wanted to take you
to my room.
My scars are also yours
when I suffer
you feel as well
We live together
forever
as we said that time
so long ago
But my days are numbered
soon you are alone
Pull out the plug
so I’ll sail away
My new shoes shine in the dark
The brand is good
The fit is perfect
But they still remind me
of a failure
I don’t want to run
I don’t want to jog
I don’t want to walk
I want to sit here in the couch
munching and munching
junk after junk
burp and fart
zap and zip
What a man I am.
If you were a harp
I would stroke the strings
as if they were of velvet
I would listen
to every tone
as if it were my own
In major and minor
yes, in every tone
