Richard Pierce

Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter

Life, Poetry


It was a kiss like a thousand others.
Tongues, hands, fingers, full body,
Skin and flesh, the instinctual
Mechanisms of arousal, the urge
To reproduce, the end result a
Joining of two entities, briefly,
Hotly, loudly, passionately, a
Coupling of necessity, and then
The falling apart, the sobriety of
Realisation, the careless carefree
Tumbling away into separate spheres
Again, biology completed.
It never was love.
That speaks a different language.

R 14/02/2023 08:24

It’s not just today I remember those
Not so tentative first kisses
On that not so tentative first night
All those years ago when we were
Really nothing but youngsters trying
Out new freedoms and thinking of
Anything but love. The next morning,
Lack of sleep written heavily on
Both our faces, we didn’t even think
There was a future in it, and so the months
Passed in some sort of impassioned
Stupour, until the future became today.

R 14/02/2023 18:08

Today’s #MastoPrompt was #kiss.

The second poem, of course, is much more true to my life, and the life I am fortunate to share with M, than the first one, which has no semblance of truth to it.

And now I’m off to the football at Carrow Road.

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  1. Hugh Matthews

    19th February 2023 at 17:49

    Lovely. Both.

    1. Richard Pierce

      19th February 2023 at 19:05

      Thanks very much. 🙂

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