Let's rewrite a poem for you,
No apologias to Byron 102,
Oh bowls of spew, Oh bowls of spew,
Stale weeties they wouldn't waste on you,'
Where once I cooked bacon and eggs,
For privileges don't even beg,
On your blackmail, I renege,
Oh bowls of spew, oh bowls of spew,
More than your family would waste on you,
No apologias to Byron 102......

he walks in awe, and would curse my interest in night
of clear silence and sighs
at promiscuous men's obsession with purity
within his aspect and his eyes
he looks down to my ******* and I ask him why
to which he replies and typically denies

he caresses those who adore lust and then calls them '******' when they are no less
had they been tighter.. but he likes lace?
his hands stroke my raven tress
as he says I am not like the rest
he whispers that he will handle me best
but if I was not pure I know I would be in another place

I stroke his cheek and admire his brow
yet why does this man objectify me as eloquent
so soft? don't reply to my letter. so calm? you haven't met me properly, have you?
deceived by my smile but I am not deceived by yours, o' 'gent'
if only more had visited below
but then again, my heart would still be innocent!

Oh lord Byron you silly fool ,breaking all society's rules

Women come and women go

But you can't let the words go, they follow you everyday in your mind they run and play

Silly rhymes of love forlorn, men and women you did adore

Your lovely sister ,your true love,who are these people that they  judge

Your exile they say is out of shame,but we both know your not to blame

For we are different a separate lot,we leave our mark, and then we're gone,leaving only our love forlorn

Look at the lovely Lord Byron
Sweet John Keats
And Percy Shelley
What an awesome group
Of poets
Bet they were really romantic

we were
in bed
that day
when
there was a midday twilight

a daze crept over us
delicate
as a fast fog

it was the feeling of floating

a barely waking ecstasy
an unreal ethereal delirium
i cant describe it

it was
something
like nothing
ive ever felt before

in the belly of our canopy bed
in that forbidden flat
on a forever day

we laughed as she
pressed her head up
& pitched the draped overlay
wearing it
like a puffy white sombrero


as the
sun
filtered through
the linen cube glowed
a yellow shade

the two of us
waiting weightless
in this unearthly space

a monster teepee on a cloud
a sailboat in the sand


it all could have been
a heavenesque hallucination
but
for the fact that
she asked if i felt it too

i said i did
after she confessed
she had no words
to describe it

it was sublime
too simple
true

& it left by night
as we tucked in to watch movies
a mini projector hovering
images pressed against an endless cinema screen
almost as radiant
as our re-animation

Oh? But what wandering eye?
You curse me so still?
I have given you my dignity, my chastity, my love and my hate.
Why must you demand?
These shackles you hold around my feet,
They are frigid, fickle... Frugal.
Surely I am not to blame! Surely, surely!
Oh, but wandering eye,
You have outlasted all, you have tainted all in your cruel excitement.
You are my well-lived enemy

Oh, but so fair, oh but so tall, and oh,
How you vitiate my love and loves!
Oh, how you have bound many before you!

What flickering excitement you bring, and what black ruin you warrant.

When you walk by, my stomach tingles
My cheeks blush and turn soft pink
With you all day i'd like to mingle
But with you all day i can not interlink
Maybe one day your heart will jingle
And maybe, just maybe about me you'll think!

In verses clear and so sublime,
A man once said of what is right
Of his mistress of dark and piercing eyes,
"She walks in Beauty, like the night"
Yet for the splendor of her face,
And all the virtues he may surmise,
I see in her no saving Grace,
No Virtue cool or clear or wise
For behind a lover's back a dagger hides
Gleaming, waiting, cold and bright
And so the sane man shuns his prize
"She walks in Shadow, like the night."

To You;

To you; possessed of such a tempting grace,
moving so sublimely through star-struck space;
Can I ask of you this quiet question-
Why do those sad tears frame that flawless face?

What’s the reason for that careless lesson
that laces your well-controlled complexion?
Have you, through some finally-found fancy
been shown the harsh meaning of rejection?

Maybe, you dreamt of a light romancing
Under the moons bright, fatal faerie-fire
Its sight telling tales of your desire,
Your sad love ethereal- Transient?

No? I didn’t think that the murky mire
That we call “Love” would have you trapped today-
To make such stories of these fallen fae,
As an excuse to perform worn word-play---

Or! Maybe, it’s some other telling tale
That put you into this unjust travail-
And left you with those mislaid streaks
Across a face falling pallid and pale.

Had your plans reached the goal- that high peak,
Then plunged; wasted - leaving you worn and weak
With no way out, no truly clear choices,
No way to gain the happiness you seek?

Did you want a house with joyful voices,
A backyard echoing lilting laughter?
Has some callous event foreclosed that chapter
Filling your soul with some private poison?

No, I don’t think that’s what I‘m after.
You’re not being held by some coarse constraint-
Nor your body filled with some tragic taint
that would leave you so faltering and faint.


Do you long for adventuresome release,
Your daily work having no such surcease-
And staring entranced-so at the stratus,
You dream of those mighty in name and deed?

Those stories, the ones that you always read-
Do they make you long for that single pleasure,
Proof of beauty and things unseen, proof of need-
Proof of some fantasy beyond measure?

The sacrosanct is in those clouds so rare.
Don’t lose faith in finding the forever,
And magic is there, suspended in air
As long as you don’t consider never.

Maybe, I could help in your endeavor,
Together, a meeting of star-bright minds-
Rhyme after rhyme, perhaps we will find
A path that will meld fantasy and time.

So Lady, giving thought where it’s due then,
I can only tell you this plight of Men
And be it my damning declaration,
I will never let you be hurt again!

You will never want for stone or station,
Nor need to seek some other relation.
If the dreary dusk deigned to mar your mood,
To make a Sun, I’d master creation!

To your beauty I would always allude,
(The runic tint to those even-ether eyes)
Only to the lay does the truth not soothe –
No comparison would bespeak of lies;

So Lady, let my love for you give rise,
To the dawning of our sublunary Sun!
For you; My suitors pledge that come what come,
On my honor, my life; Thy will be done!