deepundergroundpoetry.com
to touch
we touch
but not enough
we fear
being misunderstood
we touch
trembling unsure
we feel being rejected
would be a kind of dying
we survive
the touch and being touched
to touch is to feel
to feel is to be alive
but not enough
we fear
being misunderstood
we touch
trembling unsure
we feel being rejected
would be a kind of dying
we survive
the touch and being touched
to touch is to feel
to feel is to be alive
Published 10th Jan 2013
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Anonymous
10th Jan 2013 9:11pm
How true your words are, Faith, & how well penned & expressed. Lovely work. I enjoyed the read! :)
Carlene
Carlene
12th Jan 2013 5:59pm
Anonymous
12th Jan 2013 5:52pm
Love the way your words touch one another without being separated by anything, yet making full sense.
Good write, F E B!
Pen on.
Cheers
Tidespotter
Ps. Trembling not always bad, hey :-).
Good write, F E B!
Pen on.
Cheers
Tidespotter
Ps. Trembling not always bad, hey :-).
12th Jan 2013 6:12pm
Thank you so much for your wonderful remarks. I really appreciate them.
Your ps reminded me of an experience I had many years ago. I was at this fancy hotel on Miami Beach. I couldn't help but notice the young man behind the front desk. He was gorgeous! I walked up to the front desk and asked him for some change for the soda machine looking him directly in the eyes. He took the bill from my hand and trembled as he removed the change from the cash register. As soon as he turned back toward me, we locked eyes once more. I let my extended hand gently brush his hand. I broke into a wide-mouthed grin when his hand trembled so much that the coins fell to the floor before they ever touched my hand. It was an experience I will never forget. I wonder if there's a poem in there somewhere...lol
Your ps reminded me of an experience I had many years ago. I was at this fancy hotel on Miami Beach. I couldn't help but notice the young man behind the front desk. He was gorgeous! I walked up to the front desk and asked him for some change for the soda machine looking him directly in the eyes. He took the bill from my hand and trembled as he removed the change from the cash register. As soon as he turned back toward me, we locked eyes once more. I let my extended hand gently brush his hand. I broke into a wide-mouthed grin when his hand trembled so much that the coins fell to the floor before they ever touched my hand. It was an experience I will never forget. I wonder if there's a poem in there somewhere...lol
Anonymous
12th Jan 2013 7:07pm
Well, good on you!
So much in the "not-obvious", hey?
Like your tale, a helluva twist there...if only.....
I'd venture to say that's a poem....kinda DYING to be written!
Go for it, F E B.
Cheers
Tidespotter
Ps. Pity you didn't at least catch his name...coulda used his initials as first letter of each line.....just a thought.....who knows, hey :-)
So much in the "not-obvious", hey?
Like your tale, a helluva twist there...if only.....
I'd venture to say that's a poem....kinda DYING to be written!
Go for it, F E B.
Cheers
Tidespotter
Ps. Pity you didn't at least catch his name...coulda used his initials as first letter of each line.....just a thought.....who knows, hey :-)
12th Jan 2013 7:16pm
Well, now you've got me going..lol...perhaps i will preserve the moment in something other than my head...yes, I wondered what would have happened had I asked him his name since he was utterly speechless at the moment...later that night as I lay in my hotel bed alone...wait, i think you may be right...I feel the birth of a poem...I'll let you know how it turns out and you'll know it was you who inspired it :)
