Reading Shakespeare over [old] coffee this (27May18PM) afternoon, he's right, I should be very thankful my brothers love me.


(sonnet #MMMMMMMCLXXIV)


Ya, pensive as grey shadows lenthen hence
Across warm, sun-washed lanes, that thin detail
Lost to our keen pursuit of whither, pale
Erm figures of huge trees 'non fingring thence
Our thoughts or passage, while none ask fr'intents
Just where we're going in such haste, the tale
Of how enough, as I've ne heart t'avail,
Wont to feign smiles as if I'd their defense.
From diesel pick-ups to slick cars, we tour
With yonder at our soul, these cloudless blue
Skies so expansive, 'til I realize fer
All that how empty tis, sans soul, the view
No longer grand but galling in a poor
'Scuse, where ne lover but deceives anew.

24May18a

...whomever wants it.  



(sonnet #MMMMMMMCXLIX)


How leaden racks hone caller airs' detail
As rain comes marching grandly through.  Leaves thence
All whisper soto voce as I hence
What? listen to an airplane's voice, the pale
Hours fraught beyond their import in betrayl,
Cuz love and romance weren't my cuppa sense
According to his measures, no.  Fr'intents
"Goodbye." now echoes hollowly sans bail.
Let's know that dreams were only what we stir
To frustrate colder truth's keen tooth.  I knew
That when I tweeted "dream come true" twas poor
Cuz he'll not be mair than a dream.  What do
We, eh?  Nor can aught choclate salve me fer
All that.  The Scriptures comfort.  Let that do.

12May18a

...to swear he never was its captain.  Do NOT say anything to me, right now.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMCXLVIII)


Trust.  How black liars press you for that sense
I canna find e'en face to face'd avail.
Friends smile sae warmly, crucify the pale
Thing known as me in just a trice, and thence
Swear that, "I'll miss your smile, Dear," for intents
Upon their honour making plans to hail
Sweet minutes next together, and oh! they'll
Be scandalized to see I wrote this, whence?
I'm never good enough for love.  Tis poor.
He sez he'll war with gods to have me, to
Abort the thing called US more times than you
Can guess.  Old men court favour as it were,
And I've givn up on breathing's grandeur.  Cure?
"Trust in the LORD with all thine heart" will do.*

11May18b

What a way to finish waltzing April, eh?  Haha on me.




(sonnet #MMMMMMMCXXVIII)


How moonlight streams in to lave all from thence
In pure, resplendent silver like t'avail!
But I'm too sleepy, noting that detail
To roll words 'cross my tongue in sheer defense,
Yet drugged beyond e'en inking aught for sense,
O! rouse me fin'lly to put down that pale
First line and half, to sink 'gain in betrayl
Below that velvet whisper for intents.
"I'll finish it, erm, later..." mumbled fer
None (in my noggin), look! tis gone unto
The heights and washes all now as it were?
Nay.  Clouds like insect wings which flash a cue
Of silver mask thet eye, left peering, poor
In hampered fashion, on the rooftops' view.

30Apr18b

I really wanted to make a more secure case comparing the cardinal to those redcoats of yore, but, ah....



(sonnet #MMMMMMCxxVii)


I have a scarlet lover who, ere pale
First hints of dawn, begins to court, til thence
Smiles and soft laughter thus ensue fr'intents.
His perky voice and deep red coat avail
Long-cherished loves, as I think Brits to scale
So perfect; aye, put on the kettle hence
Tae brew a *** of rosy lea to fence
My porridge, while my cardnal'd sweetly hail.
Wee sparrows are my playmates as they stir
Such happiness as only lovers do.
If Tyler swears he loves me, Shakespeare fer
All that gives me perspective as he'd woo.
Perchance I shall be independent: your
Wish, Baby.  But then I will not need you.

30Apr18a

Prolly will too, judging from afternoon's frore air.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMLXXVIII)


Blue skies are but a memry now fr'intents,
And is black even littered with stars' tale?
I canna look.  Twas frore when we'd avail
Our selves of talk where afternoon was thence
Chance for rehearsal, late as we'd for sense
Put cafe tables side by side, light pale
With greyish region clouds nor blue's detail
But gone ere dinner was put on, and whence?
Ah, how all we'd enjoyed is lost as twere
To wasting hours which never but sift through
Sweet minutes spent with brothers, and in tour
Dear friends.  I had espresso with Dad too,
Spent two bucks on a cuppa coffee fer
The chance wi' friends, and did I, LORD, seek You?

08Apr18b

...unspeakable gift." (II Cor 9:15)



(sonnet #MMMMMMMLXXIV)


"They buried me with Mum."   That haunting sense
I'm just a pilgrim wandring in betrayl
These des'late wastes all else call home, sans bail
Despite new clothes, accessries for pretense,
And dearest friends to joy with me from hence
Or weep or who-cares-what, this world to scale
Some dish that wants salt, lacking flavour--they'll
Assure me tis grand--mocks life sans defense.
If Hollywood laughs in the face as twere
Of good and righteous, where designers too
Are filthy past all words and smiling fer
Applause, I'm sans a home sans her.  Then You
Remind me "one thing's needful---" to bestir
Hope that my home, LORD's:  You.  Life.  O!  Who knew?

06Apr18b