Saturday (Raw)

Saturday (Raw)

The final part of ‘The Week‘ Series, I hope you’ve enjoyed:

I hope it wasn’t like raw meat…
That’s not good to eat.
Somewhat bitter sweet
like poor lyrics captured in an angels voice
or inexperienced players in a Beethoven symphony
and those who stay at the front line after being told,
“If you are feeling the fear then flee”
knowing that death may visit them soon.
I hope it wasn’t like raw meat,
after you did what you did that wet afternoon.
Regret may ensue but there’s nothing you can do,
except only blame you.
I hope you don’t wish that it wasn’t marinated more,
that there may be a possibility of a little salmonella.
And if not a little then I hope your stomach is fine.
If not I hope your stomach progresses like a fine wine.
Don’t wish for more seasoning,
if it didn’t taste right then,
the time for reasoning is gone.
Let it be ready and succulent,
Slow and steady, first osculant. ©

By Aiden Harmitt-Williams

Here is the link to the previous part: Friday (Sis)

 

 

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Friday (Sis)

Friday (Sis)

Part 6 of ‘The Week‘ Series:

If you aren’t my soul,
then sister ebony,
queen of the night,
darkness of my life,
sweet chocolate on my tongue,
who is second to none — I know not what I’ll do,
for there is no other one
who can fill the quota
of child bearer, home maker or king slayer.
For what is a queen without a king
whose heart she has conquered, captured,
loved and locked up within her own?
Let me be the sacrifice to God Himself for you,
in the hope that our coinage of the word “us” is blessed.
What’s simple is this, if you long for me,
let the beat of your heart, play a rhythm for we.
The gravity of your eyes, I can’t refute how I feel.
I’ve heard a lot from the past, I hope the repute is for real.
You must be my soul sister,
Hey sis. ©

By Aiden Harmitt-Williams

Here is the link to the previous part: Thursday (Fleeting)

Wednesday (Hope)

Wednesday (Hope)

Part 4 of ‘The Week‘ Series:

So many times I wonder,
what it means to make it.
Whether it’s deep enough
to want to fake it.
And if I do – make it,
What happens if the Lord
wants to take it.
Will I cry and emit sorrow?
Or like Job accept His will?
I only wait on infinite tomorrows,
and hope my blessings overflow. ©

By Aiden Harmitt-Williams 

Here is the link to the previous part: Tuesday (Dream)

Tuesday (Dream)

Tuesday (Dream)

Part 3 of ‘The Week‘ Series:

I awake with dreams
on my mind.
Recollection escapes me,
trying to cling to that
one lost face
now forgotten in that
recurring dark place
I lust for after the day.
If only I could linger
just a little longer.
I feel I’ve always been stronger
at the crack of the black. ©

By Aiden Harmitt-Williams 

Here is the link to the previous part: Monday (Eve)

Monday (Eve)

Monday (Eve)

Part 2 of ‘The Week‘ Series:

The eve of the weeks beginning
was mild and wet
much like the woman I lay with last night,
I labelled her with the ocean epithet,
much of her was untravelled
but I traversed her waves willingly.
Her bodily symmetry was an art piece from God,
and her hands were mellifluous,
singing my own frame songs of her travels.
I listened intently,
and remembered her melodies,
the sung to her my own,
and crafted sweet harmonies.  ©

By Aiden Harmitt-Williams

Here is the link to the previous part: Sunday (Longing)

Sunday (Longing)

Sunday (Longing)

This is the first part in a 7-Week long poetry series based off of how I felt each day during a one week period. If anything it is a small insight to how I craft poetry. But please, bear in mind that things will be fictionalised and poetic license has been taken with some, while others are personal pieces that do delve into my life. ‘The Week‘ Series.

Is it strange that I want to feel a sickness?
Is it odd that I want to be at a loss?
Passion I long for escapes me,
and where I want my heart to ache it relaxes.
Too much of a thing often has repercussions,
in this case my lack of love has made my heart weak.
Weak in that I can no longer exercise its primary function.
I long for love,
the capacity to fill myself up with another,
be it The Lord,
or a woman
I need my heart to feel something for someone
other than myself.
Anything. ©

By Aiden Harmitt-Williams