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A Beggar On Your Street February 25, 2008

Posted by Conrad Hubbard in : Poetry , add a comment

Another one of the poems from that year 2000 “lost” collection.

A Beggar On Your Street

The love I feel
is a beggar on your street
with eyes full of hope
and heavy feet
will work for the feeling
from when your eyes meet
can you spare some change
to make my world complete
can you spare a time
for us to repeat
The love I feel
is a beggar on your street
with a heart that is hungry
for your matching beat
tired without solace
and your smile is so sweet
homeless cast out
from your arms in defeat
holding up signs
for next time we meet
the love I feel
is a beggar on your street.

Find more of my poetry in my scrapbook and under the blog category.

A Serenade of Truth February 24, 2008

Posted by Conrad Hubbard in : Poetry , add a comment

I found a small collection of poems on my hard drive, all written for one beautiful person in the year 2000. As far as I can recall, nobody else except her has ever had a chance to read them. I haven’t seen her in many years, but I figured I would finally post the poems that came of that time.

A Serenade of Truth

Your glittering green eyes
have enchanted me
beyond any recovery
my helpless soul cries
for the touch of your fingers
and dances for joy as it lingers
your smile stirs my heart
with an irresistible might
that quickens my breath
and sharpens my sight
okay wait I’m sure
you have heard this before…
so…
oh, no, a serenade you said
and my spirit fell to the floor
you called me gentle the other day
and to that I can only say
there is a beast that rages in me
driven mad and made hungry
by the energy
you inspire in me
but it is soothed by the music
of your beautiful being
this gentleness you are seeing
is a measure of the awe you inspire
and conceals a raging fire
that consumes me like gasoline
but I didn’t want seen
because the effect you have on me
is too strong not to be scary
and despite your jokes of medication for this
you bring me bliss
and there is really no cure
for happiness
so my serenade
is not just some poem I made
but the gentleness you see
covering the beast
you inspire in me.

Find more of my poetry in my scrapbook and under the blog category.

Closeup and pieces of poetry February 4, 2008

Posted by Conrad Hubbard in : Poetry , add a comment

I used to occasionally post fragments of poetry stuff online, even if I didn’t yet consider it finished, or know if I would ever finish it. For some reason I find myself less willing to do so with a blog. Maybe it is because I feel more comfortable putting pieces like that amid the works that make me proud to have written. Anyway, I think I want to try to change that, so, here:

Closeup

The closer you get to me
the more pretty I can see
so if we were close enough to kiss
I just might open my eyes a bit.

Find more of my poetry in my scrapbook and under the blog category.

I Can Hear You Talking December 29, 2007

Posted by Conrad Hubbard in : Poetry , 6 comments

I wake up in the dark
And open my eyes
I can hear you talking
To those other guys

Looking for the clock
It’s 3 A.M. again
I stumble out of bed
And into the den

Will you come to bed now?
I ask with a sigh
You look up from the phone
But don’t say goodbye

I’ll come to bed soon
Let me finish with this
And you send me back
With a quick little kiss

I wake up in the dark
And open my eyes
I can hear you talking
To those other guys

Looking for the clock
It’s 4 A.M. again
I stumble out of bed
You’re not in the den

I hear you upstairs
Your voice muffled and low
My heart is breaking
And I climb the stairs slow

Will you come to bed now?
I ask with a sigh
I am not ready yet
Have you come to spy?

I lay there in the dark
With wide opened eyes
I can hear you talking
To those other guys

Looking for the clock
It’s 5 A.M. again
I stumble out of bed
And into the den

I can’t sleep honey
Will you please come to bed?
Try some sleeping pills
I can’t believe what you said

My heart is breaking
I fall asleep denied
The alarm is beeping
You’re asleep at my side

I wake to morning light
And open my eyes
At least you aren’t talking
To those other guys

Looking for the clock
It’s off to work I go
I steal a goodbye kiss
You don’t even know

I come home for lunch
But you are still in bed
The phone sitting there
By the side of your head

Will you wake for me now?
I slip into bed
You say you are tired
I can hold you instead

The phone rings like clockwork
I open my eyes
Will you be too tired?
Will you talk to those guys?

Back to work I go
To finish up my day
Hoping to come home
And steal your heart away

You’re already busy
Talking on the phone
I am so tired now
I go to bed alone

I wake up in the dark
And open my eyes
I can hear you talking
To those other guys

Looking for the clock
It’s 3 A.M. again
I stumble out of bed
And into the den

Will you come to bed now?
I ask with a sigh
You look up from the phone
But don’t say goodbye

*To read other poems that I have written, please check out the poetry section of my blog and the collection posted in my poetry scrapbook.

Across the Blankets October 26, 2007

Posted by Conrad Hubbard in : Poetry , 1 comment so far

In the morning, when I wake up,
I want to look across the blankets
of our bed and see the girl I love,
and I want to say “I love you”
and I want to hear it back,
but I want to hear it
come back to me
in a way that makes me know
that she loves me the same way
that I love her.

Coming back to me,
across the blankets.

*Pathos is my poetry scrapbook. For lots more poetry scrapbook type stuff, go to my poetry page.