Tell Me A Story
Would You Raven
One More Sweetheart
Could Be Your Time
And You ?
Went to bed and didn’t see
why every day turns out to be
a little bit more like Bukowski.
And yeah, I know he’s a pretty good read.
But God who’d wanna be?
Modern society and western culture awards a special kind of favoritism on tortured creative genuineness: Vincent van Gogh, Charles Bukowski, and Kurt Cobain immediately spring to mind. True, their work is fascinating and richly presented, but there’s a big difference between appreciating, or even coveting the work and the desire to become like them. As our Monterey poet so aptly says, “who’d wanna be?”
Last night I was walking across the street carrying a fishbowl toward my car and you said hi.
I totally froze and couldn’t bring myself to say anything; you were very beautiful.
I was going to offer you a ride up the hill since you were in heels but your car was right there, and I lost my chance!
Hopefully you see this…
No single beauty is the best,
Since she is all one flower divine…..
O mystic metamorphosis!
My senses into one sense flow-
Her voice makes perfume which she speaks,
Her breath is music faint and low!
And so, one night, I’d like to sneak,
When darkness tolls the hour of pleasure,
A craven thief, toward the treasure
Which is your person, plump and sleek…
And, most vertiginous delight!
Into those lips, so freshly striking
And daily lovelier to my liking-
Infuse the venom of my spite.
A shame we merely crossed path for a moment, for if we were in a place where we could actually talk I would enjoy further hearing the music of your voice.
A lovely woman who would make the goddess of love jealous.
I see you pedaling up and down N. Main St. all the time.
Wherever you are going, you always seem to be in a rush.
Slow is not an option.
I like it when you jump the curbs =D