Serpentine compatriots with their click-click-click ambush good sense and defy amicable intentions.
They slither and creep, cross the deep ravine–ravenous hunger. Hunger. Hunger–the proof of breath and dew.
Slippery crags, beware! Dashed against my mind. Competition is hardly an idea. Cling to my safe side.
Hunger begs for dessert when satiated.
But steak is better for those emaciated.
The choice lingers twixt meat and sweet.
Which will satisfy?
Give each day to carnality?
Sup each day healthily?
The cake or the steak?
That decision will rule life.
Sacrifice for the pleasure.
The flesh is but momentary.
The figure–fleeting.
Physical form is not final.
Lusty, diamond-dipped bands of frosted gold.
Live a wholesome life.
The spirit craves meat.
The spirit is eternal, unextinguishable–
Fire beyond the ash.
Hearty, energizing whispers of love and joy.
What will you dine on this day?
Given a single choice
a euphoric burst of creamy delight
or a dripping steak, thick and moist?
A year ago on this date, 3-4 hours from now, I first met my Lisa.
Five days later, we became girlfriend and boyfriend.
Somewhere in between then and now, we fell in love.
Rejoice with me!
Darling baby bear, from you happiness burbles forth
and I drink greedily, full of ever-bursting mirth
you invoke gaiety, like satyr Pan’s pipes
making me swear an oath, thanking god for his gift of life.
You conjure golden bands and bells in my mind,
and attempted lyrical lines forced in hasty rhymes.
through fiery trials we’ve tempered our bond,
like a blacksmith forging metal scepters and wands
symbolizing the power through the ages–
of our love often tested that will best any rages:
minor tiffs and tangles, brusk discourteous jangles;
major catasrophes, floods, famine, and killer bees.
all such manner of man or beast or some almagam
that can come between a man and a woman
will be gnats to squash and squeeze deftly
through the mutual respect existing between you and me.
Our bond is Siamese, we’re attached at the hip
or should I say our minds? would that better befit
the quality of us. We’re syncrhonized liek the swiss
i creep behind you, and you just turn for a kiss.
Did you read my intent? Maybe I wanted to give you a tickle!
Oops, did I say that? Oh now I’m in a pickle…
Happy Anniversary! That feels incredible to say
(I’ve actually been waiting a whole year for this day)
so now that it’s here, what do we do?
You keep loving me.
I’ll keep loving you.
Blow out the candle, on the cake we’ve baked,
and wish for more happiness for both our sakes,
and wish for the time when two become one,
and the oven will be stuffed with our cake, and 5 buns.
The 80s–Reaganomics and shady contracts,
but, Gargamel, eating Smurfs for snacks;
Snacks with salt and vinegar,
combos have pretzel and cheddar,
cheesy right in the center;
Going to work in a daily routine,
then having coffee with 2 sugars and plenty of cream;
Tiring days of scholastic activity,
loving nights, just you and me.
Orgasmic surprise,
a curved B in Prob and Stat.
Now, rejoice with me!
In all my life, there has never been anyone quite like you. When you smile ear to ear, I can’t help but become your reflection.
Life is just better with you around. You offer a hand to hold, and a heart to cherish. I will never be without you.
Others may not understand, but their understanding is not requisite for our love. It exists solely for its own sake.
Vivify my body. Enlighten my mind. Conjure my soul. Divine those elements of me, which best complement you, so that I might deliver you joy.
Every man would do well to be as happy as I. What have I done to deserve the rewards that you shower upon me? I must be blessed.
Letting go, saying adieu, is tragic. Let us forbid the utterance of such sentiments–you live in me, and I, you. So, never say goodbye.
It’s incredible–the life that we share. What’s even more satisfying is that we are young, and have an entire life together awaiting us.
Still in love with me? Okay…just checking. Just hold me a for awhile in this time, this place, where everything seems so right.
And when we come to the end of our road, may we diverge only to meet again at some distant intersection, yearning to be togehter again and make up for the time we have lost apart.
Here’s a poem I wrote to Lisa awhile ago, but forgot to give her… hehe sorry darling!
Talk of love and devotion is sweet and all
But if you recall
There are many ways that love can fall.
It seems often these days
That couples in the gushy phase
Court through crazed acts and grand displays.
Despite this show, divorce is high.
Prenuptials? They’re on the rise.
If we’re still together 10 years nigh,
Would you or I be surprised?
The simple truth is that in the sea
There are other fish for you and me.
Some are decked in colors–tropically.
Some are notable for their intelligence,
Some are simply excellent.
To what extent is this relevant?
We could live without each other
It’s a fact that lies uncovered.
In fact it’s plain for both to see
Do I have to spell it for you? A. B. C. D. E.
It’s elementary as the alphabet
Do you got it yet?
Have I been too delicate?
There’ll be those who want me or want you
But they can only hope that’s all they can do.
Because despite all else, we picked each other.
For us, there IS no other.
More will come, but we are more than love,
More than care, more than wealth, more than life.
We are dreams,
The summer downpour,
The rolling grassy green hills,
Everything and anything beautiful in a way that can only be felt.
We belong together.
John Milton explains (in a prologue to Paradise Lost) why I really suck at poetry:
The measure is English heroic verse without rime, as that of Homer in Greek, and of Virgil in Latin rime being no necessary adjunct or true ornament of poem or good verse, in longer works especially, but the invention of a barbarous age, to set off wretched matter and lame metre; graced indeed since by the use of some famous modern poets, carried away by custom, but much to their own vexation, hindrance, and constraint to express many things otherwise, and for the most part worse, than else they would have expressed them. Not without cause therefore some both Italian and Spanish poets of prime note have rejected rime both in longer and shorter works, as have also long since our best English tragedies, as a thing of itself, to all judicious ears, trivial and of no true musical delight; which consists only in apt numbers, fit quantity of syllables, and the sense variously drawn out from one verse into another, not in the jingling sound of like endings a fault avoided by the learned ancients both in poetry and all good oratory. This neglect then of rime so little is to be taken for a defect, though it may seem so perhaps to vulgar readers, that it rather is to be esteemed an example set, the first in English, of ancient liberty recovered to heroic poem from the troublesome and modern bondage of riming.
In other words:
Rhyme doesn’t cut it. Meter is everything! (I have no meter.)
Thank you for all your props and comments people! I REALLY appreciate them!!
globs of purple rain had fallen
to the softly padded ground.
If one were to look
shards of glass could be found.
The remains of a glistening goblet
shattered semblance of what once was
reflected a roaring fire
crackling within a hearth a bit above.
The man sat over his woman
lying softly on the bed
and thought of what had transpired
in his slightly tilted head.
The plan had come after months of thought–
their life together had become wanting.
‘Change must come by your willful hand’,
his heart and mind had been taunting.
So the fruits of his grand scheme
had ripened at last tonight
like some sublime spirit she lay
in his mind she was quite a sight.
Glinting edges, sharp and pointed
he had unsheathed his chosen weapon
and with precise, calculated passion
sent his beloved straight to heaven.
Shivers of shock ran down her back
and she let her glass slip
Senses reeling she didn’t care
as the carpet stained with drips.
Her cries had broken placid night
proving instinct can fall short
but before she exhausted herself,
she uttered a quick retort.
Though cool and collected through the ordeal
this utterance drew salmon to his cheek
preparation proved worthless
as his knees grew painfully weak.
Now salty emotion ran down his cheek too,
the moment pressed into his soul
he had changed their lives forever
his action had taken its toll.
“Yes,” she had sighed with love
“I’ll share my life with you.”
She slipped the weapon on her hand
Gilded circle, diamond blue.
What’s new in webdesign? I’m trying to gather up all the pictures from ECASU to put on the ASA website. Also, Kosal and I have been recruited to work on the ECASU national website. Moogoo helped me pick out a good server, he’s too good! Hopefully we’ll be able to do a good job.
What’s new in the world? The front page of the Inquierer had somehting about women being outraged at unauthorized pevlic exams conducted by medical students–its a common practice. Saddam called Bush out for a debate (it is the only way he would be able to win).
What’s new with ASA? Ominous feelings fortell that when one reminisces upon these first few years, they will seem all too golden.
What do I most want to learn? Python…seems interesting, and TCP/IP networking protocols/sockets etc…
Magic: TG card I’m looking for? More Birds (OP) and Recycles!
Yah Yah, I’m creative…thanks! but did anyoone actually read the whole thing?? ^___^ Wish me a good time at ECASU! LATERZ!
Once there was an angel
who dreamed of silver wings,
a baby star to grace upon,
and other sky-bound things.
This angel cutiepie,
so filled with hopes and dreams,
left divinely perfect gardens,
for the mortal Earth it seems.
he picked fresh flowers, visited
white rice fields, and luscious forests,
and enjoyed the hymns of a gospel choir
that rivaled his seraphic chorus.
Next, this silly boy sensed
a wafting in the air
from a sweet lollipop held
by a baby girl without a care.
“Sorry,” said the angel,
“but I simply must confide
that that smell is so delectable
it leaves me mystified!
I’d trade my wholesome soul
for that sweetness on my lips
could this be the legendary
object? the loving human kiss?”
I’ve heard the starlight whisper
on shady, eclipsed moons
of the essence of human love
shown in kissed lover’s swoons.
Could the art of humanity
be trapped in your bulbous cheeks
is the reason behind your smiles
somewhere I can peak? (okay, that was weak)
The little chick held out her hand
towards the blinding sol,
grinning with an ivy fang,
eyes both dark and cold.
She offered him the candy pop,
with a face unmarred by time,
he tried a couple licks,
it tasted highly sublime. (this stanza sucks)
I’m glued to this savory taste
he chuckled at his luck
but when he looked upon that girl
he exclaimed, “holy f*ck!”
It seemed she was but an illusion
for a blackness seemed to sweep
and the sun’s corona waned
and god’s scion had to weep
Smokey halos darkened the sky
as amethyst hues replaced the orange sun
a tired look drew on the face
of the wing’d one.
Extreme duress strained his face
as introspection showed his err,
his will had flopped, and conscience stopped,
and he had dropped his care.
“Too innocent have you been,”
cried the little girl.
Suddenly she flew and he was sure
who’d possessed his world.
“I am fallen darkness,
the meek shy away with fear,
it is I who invoke anonymous hate
in those who once were dear.”
“I am the prince of all
that rebels against your host.
Temptation is my forte–
it is what i love the most.”
“I take you now, oh angel dark,
to a realm of prometheus’ gift.
where punishment will be meated out
no mortal hand can lift.”
acid bins we’ll bathe you in
–my jaded, fellow damned
for our work has made us weary
in this unhallowed, spiteful land.
“No hope will come to you cherub,
even on the final day,
when the man with studded hands,
will take the good away.”
“For you have fallen from eden pure,
for earthly foul and folly,
you’ll be eating no more waifers
and leave behind the days most jolly.”
“Have no hope to be revitalized
that’s a wish no one can fill,
for your soul is mine, for all time
you signed it over with a quill.”
“A bargain made and come to term,
has cursed you through and through
an infernal contract drawn and signed,
has spelled the end of you.”