A tattooed Blond

I’m neither here nor there,

Half asleep or half awake.

Not quite conscious,

Like a drifting snowflake.

Sinking through a prism,

Where I fantasize and over-achieve.

Seeing a blond haired vixen,

Thinking I’ve seen her tatt’s before.

I’m retreating, hiding,

From her beckoning embraces.

My drunken mates at the bar,

Giggling and smirking, as if I can’t see.

Between there’s a tattered curtain,

A pale veil, shadows lurking.

A vision frighteningly surreal,

Like a fiery chasm.

The blonds tattoos spasm,

Chasing my body into the surf.

A bubbling sensation, wildly scary,

I sprawl atop the tattoos in the sand.

And I wonder what to do,

With her bloodied tattooed hand,

Wishing I could escape from here or there.

I suddenly awaken, and burst into tears,

Recognising my weakly fears.

 

Ivor Steven.

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ivor20

G'day, and welcome to my blog site. My name is Ivor Steven, I live in Geelong, Australia. I'm an ex-industrial chemist, and a retired plumber, and a former Carer of my wife(Carole), for 30 years, who suffered from severe MS. I Write poetry about those personal thoughts, throughout and beyond my life as a Carer. I've been blogging for over 2 years, and writing poems for 19 years. Of course a lot of my poems are about my favourite subject Carole, but since I've been blogging my writings have become quite varied, humourous, mystical, observational, and even a few monster/horror poems.

63 thoughts on “A tattooed Blond”

    1. Thanks Rose, and yes it was only a crazy mixed up dream, The Tattooed blond is 2 recent girlfriends, the boys at the bar, my drinking mates, the tattered curtain is from my junior football days, and I’ve always been a surfie. so my dream just shuffled them all together……

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      3. I was talking about your concrete floor that still needs to be done with my husband, and he said that if your friend is unable to complete it, home improvement or garden stores carry concrete flat slabs (like tiles) you can lay on the ground.

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