Two poems by Gary

The Kiss

Wandering off in opposite directions
blind, they never saw each other coming.
From her sportsman spouse she’d set out running,
dead set against masculine affections.
He was reeling from feminine rejection:
wife angry as a writhing wounded snake,
a venom fog round the children sprayed,
a daughter soured by mother’s confection.
Head-on they met, two worlds in collision,
two skulls, two skins, two souls, two minds, four lips,
two hearts, two still unfinished manuscripts,
two bucket seats, two rushes of passion.
If both hadn’t deeply feared the love they felt,
they would have unbuckled their shoulder belts.


I want to be

More than the icing on your cake.
I want to be the nuts in your nut loaf,
the leaven in your bread,
the rice in your stir-fry,
the whites of your eyes,
the potatoes in your chips,
the syncopated beat
of your feet as you walk,
the full moon in your night,
the blue in your sunny sky,
the water in your every drink,
the blank paper in your daytimer
before it’s cluttered with busyness.
I want to be the space around the writing,
the white that backgrounds all the plans
and bears them up and blesses your days,
and all the jots and doodles and dots
that say you passed this way.
I want to be the balm on your lips,
the powder on your nose,
the fire in your heart,
the blood in your veins.
I want to be me touching you touching me,
every day, every night until the dawn.


© Gary Garrison
These poems were published in the Boyle McCauley News (February 2012).