Give it to me

Give it to me
Anyhow, anyway, strong, black or brown
Just give it to me right now!

I need to do it
I crave the way it feels
Rushing through me, in me

So, who's gonna do it, drive me, ride me
Till i'm tired and can't do it any more?
Who's gonna call me on
My Blackberry, PC or phone?

Who's gonna demand more
Insist that i do it this way or that?
Go further than anyone else
Turn me into an unfeeling performing machine?

Who's gonna pull me and push me
This way and that

Who's gonna bend me over backward
And keep at it till I'm spent, worn out, exhausted?

Just give it to me
Anyway, anyhow, strong, black or brown
Give me that potent brew
of exquisite, hot coffee!

Pain

My pain speaks a subtle language
It exclaims in the aches and pains in my joints
It whispers in the tears that escape the corners of my eyes
It sighs in the breath from my front teeth
It pounds in my temples & the back of my neck

My pain speaks a subtle language
It is the language of silence, grief and emptiness


*Composed at a client strategy session as part of an impromptu poetry exercise