The sky is falling!
Men are pregnant!
Mona Lisa is crying!
The mountain is on the way to Mohammed!
Congressmen have stopped lying!
Banks are giving away free money!
There's moss on a rolling stone!
Old dogs are learning a bunch of new tricks!
Hugh Hefner sleeps alone!
Hell has frozen
Pigs are flying!
The fat lady sang and took her bow!
The sun rose in the West yesterday!
I guess it's all over now.
Here comes a man on a pale grey horse
through the hole in the ozone layer...
These are things we expected of course.
Bow thy head in prayer.

Promising thoughts and pious prayers
  for the starving refugee,
  angels of mercy
  air-drop sugar
  to sweeten the casual tea
  while sharing the sky with bombers and drones
  as thick as flocks of geese.
Underneath rubble victimized villagers
  rest in shattered peace.

is a splash of ivory flesh on damp grass
at the cave mouth;
a breathing epitome
  wrapped in endless dreams of his own perfection.
She washes him with her creamy eye
as stars wink with delight at her romancing.
When he tosses, turns, stretches in fuller display
she pulls a cloud across her face
embarrassed by her desire
yet peeks anyhow
feeling lonely and too far away.
He is lost
  to the invisible arms of Hypnos
  who loves him as well.

They shall bind your hands and feet, wrap you in a winding sheet,
stretch you out in endless rest, place a bible on your chest,
stick you in a wooden box, dig a grave from dirt and rocks,
drop your coffin in the hole and mutter prayers for your poor soul.
Once the last"Amen" is prayed then shall come the sound of *****.
Cemetery men shall toil to cover your remains with soil.
All you were shall be decay beginning on your dying day.
You shall rot beneath a stone.
Worms shall chew your flesh from bone
as slimy maggots drink your eyes and your tongue grows thick
                                            with flies.
The acids in your bloated belly shall melt you into putrid jelly.
Then a million spider eggs shall fill your brain with crawling legs.
You shall choke on silent screams.

Go to sleep now....pleasant dreams.

The day I broke my wing
was the day I learned to fall:
the most useless lesson of all.
Acrophobes  don't risk flight...
romantic masochists might.
Earthbound, still, I sing.
Gravity is a cruel king.

I slept with your words last night
and had dreams of something echoing.
Your words are easy.

I love you enough...
I truly do.
On a ten-point love scale I'm feeling 2
(which for me is impressive and quite a bit...)
That's the most I can offer.
So
Just deal with it.
I love you.
I love you
up to a point beyond which I am unable to go).
It's tough to express this
and harder to show
my non-darling sweetie.
My non-turtle dove
my heart overflows with conditional love
which is cautiously partial and maybe sincere
-my nearly beloved...
You're my Demi-dear.
I find you are likable.
You strike me as cool....
I'm not touchy/freely with words as a rule.
I will love you a long time
until I move on.
But for now I DO LOVE YOU!
I swear I do (insert name).