so noisily these nights
I cannot sleep
But when I put in earplugs
My heart beats just as loudly

shouldn't I be comforted
the presence of my friend's breathing
shouldn't I be glad
I'm alive, my heart's beating

but all I can think right now
is I wish we could sleep like the dead
and get some peace and quiet
in my weary leaded head

John Keats
John Keats
John
Please put your scarf on.

Bless me with words to define.
What are you, o love of mine ?
An unfulfilled goal that fosters patience;
A diamond roughed by keen observations.

Give me some ways to find.
Where are you, o love of mine ?
Beyond the stars or across the seas.
In a universe of your own , beyond my reach.

Tell me of your unfathomable kind.
How you came to be, o love of mine ?
Not born of humans but of good and virtue;
I slay my demons even though it hurts to.

Give me vision for I feel so blind.
How ever will I see you, o love of mine ?
Picturesque and served to perfection.
Lived a life in shades without light for reflection.

Grant me some grasp of time;
So I may take it all back, o love of mine !
A memory that I've left behind,
a word left undefined.

hey! you with the face! look over here!




alright, now that I have your attention.




Carry on.

Don't worry darling,
When I push you away,
I promise,
You won't feel a thing.

I'll be the one,
To burn in the fire,
The smoke,
Causing my eyes to sting.

I know it's for the better,
I'm a burden,
Don't you see?

I promise I won't blame you,

Who would want to be around me?

Twenty nine first kisses
Maybe even more
Each in time came to pass
A few times I wondered
If she'd be my last

Twenty nine burnt matches
Lying in the sand
I know what I want but...
I don't know if I can

Too afraid to love
Too afraid to lose

I'm tired of women
I'm tired of the ups
I'm tired of the downs

I'm tired of using
I'm tired of being used

Infatuation
Conditioned motivation
Separation

Love is red...
Jealousy is green...
....Loneliness is a drag

Beautiful woman
Your kisses so fine
But I know you'll never be
Fully mine

I'm tired of love
and I'm tired of loss

Self deprecation is selfishness
Serotonin and cigarettes
I'm tired of women
*******

the writing and the women
tend to conflict
there is a solemnity
to the poetics
that the women don't
appear to understand
they curl their paws
under my door like
cats scratching to
get in
to get me out
to play
but all I want to
do is finish this novel
to enjoy a quiet evening
without having to
burden myself with
any other's emotions
how did Byron do it?
he played the game quite well
balancing the pen and the act
keeping smiles up for the vultures
till he could write all about them
behind closed doors
how did you do it?
didn't they just drag
on you like nails
on a chalkboard?
didn't they talk and talk
and feast on your attentions
like vultures to fresh ****?
I can't stand it
how did you do it, Lord?
so hard to resist
yet so hard to put up with
Lord Byron, I envy
your balancing act