The First Poets
The First Poets hunted game in the forest and on the plains-
inventing signs and gestures; guttural sounds and mime-
and ultimately Words.
The First Poets wrote words and drew pictures
on the walls of caves
stamping their feet to drum-beats;
learning to dance.
The First Poets invented music for their words
religion, books and counting-conjuring up
in each instance-new things.
The First Poets imagined names for plants,
animals, birds and creatures of the sea;
sang songs about them-wrote poems and hymns.
creating sentiment, vows and promises-
marriage ceremonies.
Poets invented the idea of the Idea, of kindness, and visions.
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Eager Roses
He took all his Eager Roses
and placed them before her
with silent eyes furtively adoring;
each rose
petal-pure.
He took all of his need of her
and hid it
because he felt
it might not be greeted
favorably.
This hidden pulse
was the vision he kept
and conjured in nighttime stance
where she walked in silky white
coming to him
satisfying his nighttime dreams, smiling.
She paused before him
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Sweet And The Bad
He said 'why do all the girls go for the bad boys? '
She said because they seem more exciting
than the nice sweet guys
and like a peacock,
the one that struts more
gets more attention
from all the women.
It is like they exude confidence
and that is reassuring.'
He said, but they are the ones
who treat the women bad,
break their hearts,
sleep around
and then leave behind
a bitter trail of angry girls
who hook up with nice sweet guys
who they then take that anger out on
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Bed
I was never comfortable with the bed;
for you it was your nest, your reading space
your communication couch to speak
with your friends;
your snack bar, your dream site;
sometimes your crying place and exhaustion module
or your chosen place to retreat from the world;
your boudoir, the stage you used to seduce me
when I wanted you.
And I did.
But the bed had so many emotions in it
so much history there for you
while I had none of these vignettes
to recommend.
I made love there
you cuddled there
I slept there
you lived one third of your life there
I never eat in bed
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Boundaryless-ness
Boundary-less
she had the habit
of cheerfully violating
others space
her charm
insulating her from rebuke.
Her beauty was boundary-less too,
almond shaped green eyes
flaming red hair
a mouth afire-
pouty with the natural sex appeal
of a goddess
a mantle she wore easily
breath-taking to behold.
Few denied her
said no to her;
she most times
never having to ask
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Renewals
I place my hands on you
feeling your body stiffen from anticipation
unused to warm hands probing
yet hesitantly hoping
that Body would come alive again.
I let my fingertip glide
along your shoulders
electric skin explodings
collar bone stiffening
mouth pouty
as I kiss
your nape
settling there like home;
you exhale
as I
surrender to your heaving front
leaving no part of it untouched
in its quivering quiverings
in its exploding satiations
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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What Do Men and Women Want?
She said:
'I want you to tell me that you can't live without me
that you love me;
that my body excites you
that you'll never forget our anniversary
and my birthday
that you appreciate how I gave up my body
to have your kids
that you want to re-affirm out wedding vows.'
He said:
I want you to tell me that I can make you open to me
and excite you sexually
that I am the only one for you
that I make you feel secure
that I am your hero
and the only one you need.
She said
'I want you to cuddle me before and after sex
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Roses Rising
I keep with me
a dying rose
which sleeps beside me
on the pillow.
Once alive it lies now in between
life and my pillow-side breathing
which doesn't allow it to expire
even though it should.
It fell in a swift spiral
from your funeral pyre
and I plucked it up
as a sign
you gave
that we'd remain
for ever close;
forever in love.
On the first night
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Who Me?
I am some days
my Best Me
others
I've been submerged
by that Other Me.
Some days
I am fun and funny
others I don that cloak
of sadness,
eat gobs of pity pie
and flagons of dark sorrow.
Other days
I am ethereal,
days lost to bad
or absent memory-
foggy hours
on end some times-
and
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Iron Math and Society
I have so easily accepted these pulley ropes
hoisting my self's achievements for all to see.
Fames' Face
applauds Ambition's ends
and I am promised
to be uplifted
to Security and Prosperity;
Potentialities and Promises
Possibilities gleaming,
Glowing Future-Beacons
calling for Hard Work
Sacrifice and Ideals
to deliver me and mine,
where Deliverance
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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