Kindergarden Jesus

WARNING: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE

Based on the truth

Kindergarden Jesus

You stand there
Surrounded by littl’uns
Like some kind of
Kindergarden Jesus
You wear graciousness divinely
Like a designer label
Without the ostentation

‘Sarah’ you exclaim
And I want to lay you down
When I hear my name
Spoken like a Psalm
From your deity of a tongue
Two can play this
‘I’m innocent’ charade
Eyes that speak
In shrouded
Synonyms
Eyes that deny
expression

Lips linger
Languishing in laments
Of fuck me now
And we lie side by side
In our kingsize bed
And seductive sonnets
resound
At the perfection of
Your sublime form
And the artistic curve
Of your nubile breast
And whole arias
Are played on the flesh
Of your orchestra bones
I feel like a have a
Back stage pass
To God’s Creation

‘Don’t be a stranger’
Kindergarden Jesus says
Picks a child’s coat up
From off the
Classroom floor
And I see my life
Trodden beneath your
‘can’t fuck you’ feet
And you hold out
your arms as if to meet
Me at the other side
Of the rainbow
But I am not fucking
Dorothy
And we are not in
Fucking Kansas
anymore

Your warm embrace
Is a Judas’ kiss
And I do not confess
Where I am not
The only one
to have sinned

I toss
My counterfeit coins
And wait for the taste
Of my bitter
Betrayal.

©2020 Sarah Drury

Film Noir

You were my sidekick
Charcoal smattered hair
Eyes bright
With the brilliant light
Of don’t give a fuck

We lived
In the film noir
Of a jilted generation
Peddling our love stories
Onto cinema screens
When the world wanted
Monochromatic misery
From the comfort
Of their
Living rooms

Then you left
And

Ken Loach
Knocked on my door today
He asked if
I liked my lines
A
New
Monologue
The genre flipped
And here I sit
Spouting shit
In my very own
Bleak
Northern
Soliloquy

© 2020 Sarah Drury

Let me Fuck You Like I Do in My Dreams

WARNING!!! EXPLICIT CONTENT!!!

I wrote this about a woman i fell in love with two years ago yet it wasn’t meant to be and we never even got to have a relationship, let alone make love.

One day honey
One day
When the world is ours
And time is ours
And none of this fucked up shit is ours
Let me fuck you
Slowly
With tenderness
Let your alabaster flesh
Play a mirage
Upon my besotted eyes
And your hush-hush longing
Beckons me inwards
A promise just for us

You, a goddess
On the brink of sensory annihilation
Me
A devotee
A wilful servant of your sensory
Purity
And my hands
Trembling like tender leaves
In a breath-like summer’s breeze
Brush your perfect skin
Baby-tender newness
With the guilt of nothing
But with the will of a hooker
Who wants to feel the win
Who wants the taste of sin
Who needs to feel her soul

Inside your mind
I find
Myself
Perfectly aligned
We slip into secrets
Skimming over whispers
Your face like a promise
With your bee-sting lips
Your breasts are so perfect
I say a prayer to taste them
To embrace them
I feel like I’m fucking an angel with wings
And fuck feels like the wrong word
For the purity of the goodness
I worship before me
Your aura so dazzling I cannot see
Heavenly
Iniquity free

Yet I’m yearning for a taste of jubilation
When you cum
Fingers slipping
Cries of lust
Love-bedecked caverns
Juices flow
Pleasure below
Honey
With a shudder
Of sunshine
Biting into flesh like a sweet nectarine
Exploring places unseen
Trying so hard
But can’t keep the mood clean

And the universe aligns
And we lose sense of time
And I feel you’re all mine
Your sweet lips part
To utter thanks
I place mine over
Then touch my lips to yours
So you can taste your sweetness
As we stay entwined
In each other’s
Souls
Two halves made whole.

© 2020 Sarah Drury

The Angels Took Your Last Breath

My husband was in the Freeman Hospital waiting for a heart transplant. The days and hours I sat by his bedside, hope in my heart, waiting for a miracle…

The Angels Took Your Last Breath

I sit here
Your still hand in my hand of warmth and hope
And wish that I could feel a movement
A random twitch
A palm around my warm blooded hand
I sit here like an ostrich, hopes in unrealistic dreams
Burying my head in the sand
Wishing for days away, in the car, music blaring on the radio
Blasting out our favourite band
Sharing our joy and passion,
Carefree, equinamity,
And

I sit here
Bleep bleep
Alarming sounds
Nurses do their rounds
My heart thumps, my head pounds
It was my last reserve but I found
Strength in adversity
This bed so high tech
Machines calling all the shots
Taking your precious breath
And for all the dreams about death
I cling to my last thread of knowing you are somewhere
Out of your broken body
Maybe watching over me
Maybe you can see
My devotion
Maybe this was meant to be

And the stars aligned
A universe, a spiritual decree
Maybe you are far away
Maybe I will never get you back
For you are too far gone to stay
The days of joy, the days that we would lay
On rumpled sheets
Smiles on our blissful faces
All I want to do is play
Is play
With you
But now the thing I have to do

Is sit here
God try and get me through
This unknowing
This clinging onto maybe you’ll get well
Amidst the machines and tubes and wires
Amidst this technological death knell
And I love you so much
I long for your touch
On my face
A stroke of the palm
A never ending embrace
And I love you
But this feels like a race
And we are coming last

I sit here
Nurses telling me its time
You’re not here
Your heart was your final crime
And I sit amid the sorrow
The alarms which bleep, the monitors which chime
And then silence
A breath stolen from a beautiful man
A heartbeat that I never again can
Feel
Warmth drifts slowly away
Welcomed by the bitter cold of death
I’ll never forget when the machine took your last breath.
And I hold your hand
I take in your face
I cannot bear to take a huge embrace
We lost my darling,
We lost the race of life
And now a widow
But forever your loving wife
Forever your loving wife.

©2020 Sarah Drury

Wrecking Ball

To all the domestic abuse survivors

WRECKING BALL

You, my wrecking ball
I your derelict
A palette of purple
Green blue hues
Priceless masterpiece
Painted by ‘loving’ hands
Place your fist in my face
One more time.
Colour your tattered canvas
Add a splash more colour
Perhaps a dash of red
In war-torn rivulets.
Smite me!
Chalk bone pastels
Cruel blood oils
Watercolour tears
I am a work of the art of your rage
Hang me in the museums
Display me in the galleries
Parade your finesse
For we do not do fine dining
And I will never know
The taste of an apology.

©2019 Sarah Drury