Outside the lines

You opened me like aBrokenCrayons3
flimsy book
thumbed through pages of
boldly outlined
caricatures
mercurially finding

me, you

chose your weapon from
boxed arsenal

Sharp,new-to-the-point
unused you
busted-pieces me

You are 64-box of Crayolas
using all the colors
to colorfully
flesh out the person
that is me

pictures that became us

showing all the restraintBrokenCrayons1
of a four-year-old
for boundaries
flair of Matisse-nuance
you have boldly
blithely refused to
color inside the lines

no paint-by-numbers
sloppy
is sensual
borderlines are
for the faint-of-heart

are is in the
eye of the beholder

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2020
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

#romance #romanticpoetry #poetryforValentinesDay

Midway? All the way. (Love is… #39)

Love is a day at the fair

flashing neon, loud music, exotic
sights, smells, sounds, enticements,
leering inducements of all sorts

adrenaline-pumping sensory overload

You know you shouldn’t overindulge
but you do and then you get sick
but what a ride, oh what a ride!

Faster! Faster! Faster!
Up! Down! All around! Spinning!
Dropping! Whirling! Faster! Faster!
Spinning around, wanting desperately
to get off but can’t until the ride stops

But by then it is way too late.

You are walking down the midway
woozy, but needing to eat
everything and nothing looks appetizing
you grab some cotton candy

Love is cotton candy in summer heat
sweet, sticky, satisfying – always a mess.

No matter how hard you try to keep your
fingers clean, it is always a mess
a great, big, sticky, gooey,
I’m-here-now-wouldn’t-miss-it
for-anything-ever-what-a-day mess.

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2018
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Era or epoch

You can use a sundial
as easily as a Rolex
an egg timer will
perform like a Timex

count the days with
an abacus or hourglass
leather-bound planner
or electronic gizmos

all that matters is the
sun rises, the sun sets
and you are spending
your lifetime with me

Midway? All the way? (Love is… #39)

Love is like a day at the county fair

flashing neon, loud music, exotic
sights, smells, sounds, enticements

sensory overload

You know you shouldn’t over indulge
but you do and then you get sick
but what a ride, oh what a ride!

Faster! Faster! Faster!
Up! Down! All around! Spinning!
Dropping! Whirling! Faster! Faster!
Spinning around, wanting desperately
to get off but can’t until the ride stops

a disembodied voice reminds you to
‘Stay in your seat until the ride comes
to a complete stop!

But by then it is way too late.

You are walking down the midway
you are woozy, but need to eat
everything and nothing looks apetizing
and the first thing you grab is cotton candy

Love is cotton candy in the summer heat
sweet, sticky, satisfying – always a mess.

No matter how hard you try to keep your
fingers clean, it is always a great, big
sticky, gooey, wouldn’t-miss-it mess.