Peirre Gint
My life
In a glint
Doldrums of silence
In the Norwegian slumps
Slumming it it,
Bumming it in the swamps
Hope of a hump back whale
Who jumps
And splashes down
Ah he is stubborn in his soul
This man
But the sensitive love of nature
And righteousness
Is triumphant
After all his wanderings
He returns
But feels
Or thinks he feels
Will she still be there?
Is there a hope
She might still love him?
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
In terms of aspiration and job choice
A person really has little choice:
Either they do what their father wants of them or what their mother wants
It is not always true, but common
That the daughter follows instinctly the father's wishes -
A higher social class,
marry well, get the grand children into a better school
The right sort
Or the son does what the mother wants or would like
be less ambitious
Be a family man
Be happy
Spend time with the kids
The daughter will marry a rich
but fairly stupid man of the right class
Whom she can control
And the son will marry of a similar class
But a social climber
a wife who is his intellectual superior
So that ultimately she makes the decisions
Like his mother did for him
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
thwart that wart with new warthog gel
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
A moth flew into the bath
It buzzed and it fuzzed and it made me
Laugh
except it began doing backstroke between my legs
And so I lifted it up in my palm
Like god's avenging hand
And served justice
to the dying man
But it
Always reached towards the light
And that is why I saved it
So it could
Continue its flight
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
You left me just where I picked you up
A little tired
After the music had stopped
And the merry-go-round took us
back to the start
Oh we had mountains to climb
in the hills of our hearts
There were valleys of consequence
And hidden snow drifts of guilt
Holes to fall through
The frozen surface
On lakes of indifference
But ferries of respect
And reunification bridges
Where we dropped sticks in for a bet
And love lockets
And hearts on chains
And notes in pockets
Written on wild west steam trains
And seas so cold they froze our brains
Oh tell me what love is and is
This the same
I remember seaweed on shores
And little animals that slither
And crawling on all fours
And winds that made me shiver
And camping in the pinewood
Next to the Inn
And you being so afraid
Of the Wild winds din
And how we hunkered down in silence
And protected we slept
In each others arms
Like violence
In the arms and the neck
That hold tight yet don't let go the bow
Don't let the arrows fly yet
I have more to give
My heart wants to live
Before the final vet
I need you
But I don't need it
I want us
Without the fuss
I miss your tender kiss
And the way we fell in bliss
But the silence between us spoke volumes of trust
And the sea shore swelled and hushed
And I breathed
And knew you were there
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.