adventures
unforgettable adventures

watch the subject thru
the view
finder, click and whirr
and we stir (up some trouble)
and capture that adventure.

set worries aside, let serendipity be our
guide

it blooms, withers and dies - so depressing.
it drinks, withers and dies - so sad.
it basks in the sunlight, withers and dies - so apt.
it glows radiant colors, and fragrance  - so unforgettable.

the first flower
your first flower
the epitome of a profound perfection
this flower was given life, nurtured and chosen
to match your beauty
and fill your heart with a memory.
and fill your eyes with tears of joy.
this flower of yours is from me...
-its o.k. if i were a flower that withers and dies if i knew i was your perfect bloom.

“Mumble-mumble,
bumbling stumble…”
You utter and stutter.

“What?”

I sputter,
and out you flutter.

I woke up at a quarter to 10,
my hand was still sleeping,
dreaming of a million,
cold needles prickling away at it.

So I wrote this with my left.

My intention was not chivalrous,
It was entirely amorous,
So by letting you pass,
My intention was to look at your ***
And so…
You gave me a show.

And what an *** – it was.
As I let you pass – it does.
Some things to me.
I slap my knee
And I say: Oh Boy!
Such a joy!

And now that I reflect,
I realize it was the object,
Of something near perfect,
When I pulled away I nearly wrecked,
All because I was rubbernecked.

Even your thighs,
Gave me highs,
They gave me sighs.

So what is chivalry?
It’s men letting you pass,
Only to look at your ***,
And you don’t sass,
Because chivalry
Is not rivalry.

And what an *** – it was.
As I let you pass – it does.
Some things to me.
I slap my knee
And I say: Oh Boy!
Such a joy!

We hold the door,
At the store,
You’re the decor.
We stare at your ***,
And we let you pass.

You jog across the street,
My eyes aren’t discrete,
They just watch your ***,
As you jog pass,
Your round ****,
Perfect and plump.

Tightly wound in those gray pants
But I stare and I don’t just glance,
Your *** is what I desire,
Your *** is what I admire,
Your *** is what I’m chivalrous – for,
Your *** is what I’m amorous – for.

We forget our mortality,
We forgot our morality,
We forgo our rights,
We live as blights,
We drink,
We sink,
We are missing a link,
We have no luck,
We have no buck,
We live in a digital world,
We watched our toilet as it swirled,
“Vapid and insipid has life become,”
We wait and succumb,
We long for an era past,
We know it doesn’t last,

Yet…

Forgotten mortality and morality, with our forgone rights and remembered blights, and sink in drink, there’s the link. We have luck and then we buck (we give no ****). Our digital world, swirled.
We become,
and then we succumb,
to a past that…
won’t…

last.

Girl from wherever,
You appeared with a coffee in hand,
At my table
So we talked,
and we walked.

My friends were infatuated,
Their pupils dilated
I’m sure one even masturbated,
to a dirtier, devious you, locked in his mind
But you were too pure for me to.

Your eyes were big and brown,
Big and brown, I could see in your house
Through those big brown window-eyes
I saw love, pain, sadness, and reflections
Of a time that you longed for.

Your skin was soft with a suntan,
But it wasn’t a suntan,
it was a piece of perfect toast,
it was wheat bread,
smooth and a light dark.

One night we talked,
You on the floor, me on the couch
We danced, we sang and we laughed,
But you were leaving the next day,
I had nothing to say, but thank you.

You told me you were the perfect match
For me, a man of Pisces,
“I don’t believe in that,” I said,
But really, I think there is something to it,
We decided we would be perfectly matched.

Oh, but you were leaving the next day,
And I went to sleep, with you in my arms
You were a girl from wherever, my norwegian wood,
I was a pisces that was too clever, but you understood,
Goodbye girl from wherever, my norwegian wood.

I think back to that day, those days,
And I wonder what you’re doing,
Ha, funny thing,
I don’t remember your name,
but you’re my norwegian wood.