Oh dear we realy cant eat that
its past its sell by date
Well what a load of ******* crap
because its still good to use
Do you think your grandmothers lived this way?
No, they just used their nose
they knew what was good or bad,
what to keep and what to throw.
Oh dear that cheese has got some mould
lets throw it in the trash
What  a ******* idiot!
Just trim of the mould
because the mould means the cheese is at its best
Sell by dates are there to catch you in a snare
To part you from your hard earned cash

Sorry but I don't need you here
I want to be alone
All I need is my Mollie dog
laying by my side
Its not my intention being rude
nor ever to offend
Its just that on the mountain side
I can make my ammends
You see its here that I can sit and think
here that I can write
Sorry its not my intention
to push you out of sight
Dear friends I find I need to be
on a cliff above the raging sea
I find no inspiration in your mindless words
I can only write of what nature inspires

I feel like I'll never understand
The idea of one's appeal
What causes us to hate someone
And think of someone else as 'ideal'

How can we go through our lives
Making decisions every day
When we don't even understand
Why we think this way

Are we simply born this way
Programmed with our opinions
Are we traveling though our lives
Just acting as our emotion's minions

But if that if that truly is case
Then I find it very strange
How at some points in our lives
Our opinions start to change

What causes us to change
What causes this mental shift
Why is it after a certain time
Our old self starts to drift

Do our feelings ever really die?
Can our beliefs so easily sway?
And if our thoughts are what define us
Do our old selves fade away?

What happens when you can't decide
What you think is the right way
Yes, what happens then?
*Maybe we just fade away

Soldier,
Do not tell me that
All is fair in love
and in war;
Especially when nations
are tried
For crimes against humanity
When they lose a war.
Trust me, Soldier:
Love is a war you do not want to lose.

Give them no plea,
Stay steadfast in your way.
Do it, do it, do it for me.

When they set flame to all you see
The fire will surge and rage, but
Give them no plea.

They will wait for you to change your decree
But sit silent, lips pierced too quiet —
Do it, do it, do it for me.

When they hold your judgement over high sea
During the toughest storm,
Give them no plea.

Do not accept what they say is to be
As what it is to be, or how it has been.
Do it, do it, do it for me.

When they strive against your way
And your will strives at your mercy,
Give them no plea.  
Do it, do it, do it for me.

She places her book, marked with
a coupon I've been meaning to use,
on the nightstand. She turns the light
out on her side. It's her side, her light.
The left side is mine.

Night.

Night.

We're past clutching love. We're
not married, but I think I know
what it means. It's two lonely
people; it's two sides of the bed.
It doesn't take her long to fall asleep.
I watch her forehead unwrinkle.
I listen as her inhales and exhales
become spaced and even. At this moment,
I do not know her. She's not a woman.
All the inviting curves collapse. She is
a girl breathing in, breathing out.

In a memory she related to me--I think
she related to me--she asks a boy to give her
a turn on a swing. It's toward the end of recess.
She has waited. He says no. This is my swing.
She says it is the school's. He says the school
isn't sitting in it. I can almost remember why
she told me this story or some story like it.

I can't sleep without my fan on. She can't
fall asleep with it. I'll give her a couple more
minutes. I wonder what violence she dreams
of, of what forbidden ecstasy she views in
her private night. I do not know her. She
looks vulnerable, her body now bent in an S shape,
facing away from me. Am I scared for her? Of her?
Still sleeping, she bunches up her comforter;
she brings it to her face. Maybe that's marriage: being
scared for and of.

I turn on the fan. She stirs.

I'm sorry. I'll turn it off.

You can leave it on.

I'll turn it off.

Leave it.

She pulls my arm under her neck.
She brings her bottom against my thighs.

Will you hold me? Just for a second.

I can hold you longer.

Just a second.