Tuesday, May 29, 2012

My Baby



You look into my eyes, giggle brightly
Squirming to run your own game
Pulling the reluctant kitten by the fuzzy tail
Finding that dusty cracker underneath the couch

It’s my baby
You baby
One baby
Cry baby

You don’t know that my heart ticks ragged
Beats of hopeful, fantasy futures
Strokes of genius, sparks of brilliance
I have my dreams and you are swept up

It’s my baby
You baby
Two baby
Sigh baby

Muted bravery when you can’t understand
Tired and weak, older by necessity
Eyes telling me, of all people, it will be okay
Cries for sadness so deep, I can’t overcome

It’s my baby
You baby
Three baby
High baby

Let’s hold hands for just a moment
Let’s eat the rhythm of the land
Let’s crinkle our noses in miracle and disbelief
Let’s make this beautiful time, the kind that counts

Because

You’re my baby
You baby
Four baby
More baby


© 2010 Crowley





7 comments:

  1. I like the way you weaved the baby lines to more baby ~ Like the flow of your emotional sadness, specially making this beautiful time always count ~

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    Cheers ~

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  2. Ah, Crowley.. what's a girl to do in the face of such a seductive onslaught of words and suggestions?

    :)

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  3. I really like the rhythm and flow of your verse. Nice job.

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  4. You have always created a stir in the senses dear sir, good to read you this morning :) xoxo

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  5. Enjoyed this a lot. Loved the progression in the refrain. More baby? How many!!

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  6. Oh my now can your baby resist? Love this piece!

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  7. I got to get caught up on your blog. Apologies and lashings in equal measures. I guess I just assumed you had gone vegas and then stayed there forever on the 100 smackeroos I never gave you.

    This piece builds like phil spector production (without the murder charges)....I love the repetition you have invoked here, it reiterates and grows exponentially through out the poem. I have at recent built an affinity for the word Baby and darling, so perhaps part of my admiration is zeitgeist, either way this is pretty fucking special. Each line laid out creates a narrative in imagery and directives. Though I think you did a great job placing them in proper order. My favorite line was this:

    Let’s eat the rhythm of the land

    Part of me heard Jack Black's voice from the tenacious d song City hall, but in a grandiose battle cry that I can buy into. Infact, I think that describes your writing in my eyes: a grandiose battle cry that I can buy into. thanks for that and viva la

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