Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

In Uni-Sin

Watchful, wanting eyes that never wander 
Hiding from anothers son; who begins to wonder

He was brought  along to adventure, while stocking up on supplies
For the summers evening fun; with his favorite "Fun Guys"

Little Andy only four stands outside the closet door
Eating his ice-cream bar melting fastly away

As he must of heard our passions cry as you began to sway
From the other side of our closets door, there we were at play 

You and I could never control our lust
Of or for the others touch way back when, when we sinned

Back then we always had many guest through out
Above the old movie house in that old old town
 
The things that went down

We were the stars always twinkling, always hanging around

We'd start the grand tour of that old place 
But, somehow we always ended up face to face 

And hiding there in any space, the things
That more than once and quite often had taken place

As people piled their coats about our bed and gather in
The things that were needed; we did need too

But, only one little kiss would lead us two, to
This torrid, horrid little play that I made

As you lied melting away behind our closets door
Sweet pleasure on the floor
 
You'd scream

I screamed, poor Andy's ice-cream... fell 
From his hand and then he'd scream 

We all screamed; and then there came a tapping at that door
Are you guys at it again; you guys ain't right

Could you not wait until tonight!
No! Go away we said; in uni-sin
               
                 by
Sinbad the Sailor Man

 


 
— Sinbadthesailorman, Jul 23, 2009

About This Poem

About the Author

Region, Country: U.S. A. Indiana, Valparaiso, USA

Favorite Poets: Robert Frost, Walt Whitman, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Carl Sandburg these I have read some And so Many More. I have no Favorite or any that I dislike. Whom I consider to be poets; of course there are many Dark and hateful souls, who would cry out and to I will lend an ear, but some. They just leave a awful taste in my heart that I can not bear to read twice. Let alone as many times I would do normally; as I must.

More from this author

Critiques