Car Park Syndrome
Why are you always discontented
wherever you park the car?
Even in an enormous empty car park
you're never happy where you are.
poem by Tex T Sarnie
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Instinctive
The moment your skin touched mine
I had an urge to kiss you.
You parted your lips as though you agreed
that it was the natural thing to do.
poem by Tex T Sarnie
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Dab and Dry
Most of us men stand looking forward
whilst women take a sitting pose.
Men do what is necessary followed by a shake
and women dab and dry I suppose.
poem by Tex T Sarnie
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A Metaphor
A sanctimonious artist of little skill and thought
who is elated by their two minute creation,
which is aesthetically poor, but nevertheless applauded
by friends of similar mind and occupation.
poem by Tex T Sarnie
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Writing For Writing's Sake
Poets who dress sentiment in a different guise,
but still state the obvious again and again
become addicted to the glory of their public's applause,
which feeds their vanity with superficial acclaim.
poem by Tex T Sarnie
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Justifiable Hate
I want to hurt that bastard!
He’s caused me so much pain.
I hate that bastard so much,
my blood boils in my veins.
He thinks he has escaped me
by dying and moving on,
but I’ll still get that bastard
when my days are done.
poem by Tex T Sarnie
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The Spoken Word
We're supposed to speak the same language,
but I don't know what you say.
You say one thing and mean another,
and you do it every day.
I have no idea where you're coming from,
and I think you're at a loss too.
There's conflict between your brain and mind,
like there is between me and you.
poem by Tex T Sarnie
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The Art of Letters
My brain is without thought and is vacant,
and there is nothing coming to mind.
There’s not even a blank canvas to write upon,
it’s as though I am mentally blind.
I’m tapping random keys on my laptop
I’m so unimaginative and tense.
A pattern is emerging from the letters,
but does it really have to make sense?
poem by Tex T Sarnie
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Chaotic Wonderment
The feelings I have for you
are so much more than love.
They're spiced with deep emotions,
enriched with the harmonies of well being
that transcend the sky above.
That four letter word is inadequate
to portray the emotions I possess.
The explosions of chaotic wonderment
in my heart, soul, and mind,
deserves much more than a word that can mean much less.
poem by Tex T Sarnie
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Too Many Waves
They weren't friends by any means,
but they waved just the same.
They were going in opposite directions
from where they had just came.
Countless more waves followed,
but no one had anything to say.
I suppose that is the way things are
when you go in the opposite way.
When you cut a wave by direction
the cut heals without delay.
There are just too many waves to count,
when you sail the opposite way.
poem by Tex T Sarnie
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