A female concert pianist
is playing at Carnegie Hall in Manhattan
Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata and
Debussy’s Clair de Lune and
other romantic melodies
which soothe the aching modern hearts
of her modern urban audience.

She’s 35 and still unmarried.
She’s never met a romantic man
who loves her
like she enjoys being loved:
Romantically like the Moonlight Sonata and
Claire de Lune.
It’s difficult to find a loving husband
in an unromantic world.

During the concert
in breaks between playing pieces
she longingly scans the audience
for a handsome romantic single man
who’s waiting to love her
like she enjoys being loved:
Romantically like the Moonlight Sonata and
Clair de Lune;
but all she sees are couples, mostly old.
It’s difficult to find a loving husband
in an unromantic world.

After the concert
on the taxi-ride to her hotel
the bubble of romantic melodies has burst
and she inures herself once more
to the modern car-horns and truck-roars
of busy city streets.
It’s difficult to find a loving husband
in an unromantic world.

She gazes out the taxi window
at modern urban pedestrians
hustling and bustling on crowded sidewalks
rushing to their business appointments
ambitious for their career success.
It’s difficult to find a loving husband
in an unromantic world.

I'm not good with words
they always come out wrong
but I'll write you a poem
because you keep me supported like my unswept floorboards
you have that wonderful smell of old ***** books
I want us to get together like cars merging into one lane of traffic
You're prettier than a third grader's sloppy cursive
You have a shine kinda like how people shine after sweating in the heat
you're more attractive than an icecream truck to suburban little kids
Your eyes are greener than lettuce
and your voice is more captivating than ****** pop music on the radio

Here's your poem
I told you I'm no good with words so yeah I'm not sure how to end this

I love you. I love you so much. I love you.. Love you to the moon and back.
Moon and back, what does that mean? Does it mean the amount of time that it would take me to get to the moon and back I would love you? Does it mean that love is a measurement and the moon and back is one love? Does it mean that if love was a form of energy it could take you to the moon and back? Or is simply just a figure of speech to be said meaningfully to a lover to imply great love?
Moon and back, I have heard that many times over and over, never understanding the meaning, and I think I'm not the only one.
Moon and back, if it's a amount of time then it's six days, Apollo 11 did it in six.
Moon and back, if it's a measurement then love equals 477,800 miles.
Moon and back, if it's energy then it's equal to 381,000 gallons of gas.
Moon and back, if it's a figure of speech then it's a extremely poor one.
Moon and back, I love you to the moon and back, it implies restricted love, measured love, to an extent love, timed love, ended love.
To the moon and back I will love you.
Love should not be measured, timed, restricted, ended.
Moon and back, why do we still say it? Because we saw it in the movies? "You want the moon? That's a great idea! I'll lasso the moon for ya what'd ya about that?" "Hmm, I'll take it" - it's a wonderful life. We heard it in the songs? "You want the moon? Girl watch me grab it" - Far East Movement
Why? Because we have no alternative?
Moon and back. Moon and back. To the moon and back.
What? Do we lack the capability to make new phrases? Do we lack the romanticism?
No, we lack the courage to say our thoughts. I love you till, till the sun explodes and we are ****** into darkness and even then when we are nothing, and there is nothing, there will be my love for you.
We have the fear of being laughed at for saying what our heart wants us to say. I need you like birds need wings to fly, like lions need claws to ****, like fish need water to live.
The horror, of being completely honest. I didn't love you the first time I told you I loved you, because if I did mean it then, than this must be more then love, but it can't cuz what's after love?
Moon and back, I'm tired of unromantic couples.
Moon and back, moon and back.

Moon and back, maybe we say it because deep down we all know the truth.
The truth of, moon and back, and as much as we hate it, as much as we fight it,
Love does end.

The struggle to overcome the differences        
        Between the impossible and the possible
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The struggle to overcome the differences        
        Between the impossible and the possible
Hope being the word that springs to mind.            
        To link these two opposites to attract.
Eternally wandering Cyber space side by side,    
         Hooking into every adjective or verb.

Seeking impossible causes and take away
    Excuses and make them once more possible
To overcome the bigotry and blind self-centred
     Mind sets of the Atheist Un-Believers
Reaching cornerstones of minds that Muslim          
   or        Christian Faiths never thought existed.
Unless you have all spent your life on earth
       In a Butterfly cocoon , not in real time.
GOD has chosen you to teach the differences
    Poetically between the Impossible n possible
Given that that if you don’t succeed first time
    You will eventually get it right next time.
Love for all your Fellow Men and Women
     May seem important,trust me it’s the way.
Every possibility, has been, at sometime within
     It’s long life, seemingly most impossible.

Take the clever fabrication of a silk purse
      Out of a muddy sow’s ear , if you will ?
Or the finding of a needle in a hay -stack.
       Or the abolition of third world hunger?

Or the creation of the Love of Nations unto
  Nations .The end all Wars n Ethnic cleansing
Very nearly every problem has a solution
    Indeed many solutions do often exist.
Electricity? How unbelievable to most thought      
    So impossible once upon a time.
Radio waves converted into the sweet sounds
     Ever to be heard by mortal Man.
Communication n instant chat across a globe
      In real time, one to one, No ? Impossible.
Of loving commitment betwixt different creeds
      And cultures ,without ever meeting possible
Mighty soon God will look down on the Earth
       And see two wonderful words rolled to one
Entreating the impossible always possible
        And the possible never impossible.

The struggle to overcome the differences
    Between the the impossible and the possible
Holy ,holy,holy ! Eureka , glory be .We are
     We are getting there , I really do believe.
Eternally where two poets or more can meet
    And compose , recite and critique as one

Differences are diffused between the
    Impossible and the possible, reduced to nil.
In practical terms every metaphor or rhetoric
    Noun verb or adjective can be polished.
From the most impossible dream into reality
     Of the finest poetry ever written.
From the dullest of dyslectic muttering
      To the most floral of sweetest love songs
Endlessly tripping from the lips of strangers
       Meeting strangers ,wisest verse ever ?
Reactivating opposites attracting impossibly
      With the possibility of judging for yourself.
Enactment with that poet that composed this
      Lengthy missive...you never wished to meet
Never in a thousand years of co-habitation
     Meeting this poet maybe possibly possible
Catch the impossible chance on the
     Boundaries of your mind to make it work
Every chance that catch can win the game
   Turning an impossible result into success
Success is the fuel to drive the possibility
   Beyond the full limits of the impossible

By making then the impossible possible
  You’ve changed in one action your whole life.
Every possible thought can be dismissed
    From your mind , possible for ever.
The sun to leave the sky ,rivers all run dry ?
    Babies not to cry ? No that’s impossible.
We have that song within our minds
   Which possibly keeps our feet on the ground
Every now and then to accept that all things
   Are possibly impossible
Even mighty magicians from time to time
   Cannot turn, however hard they try by day n
Night to raise experiments turning base metals
     Into gold. For no good reason save reward.

The gold that they are seeking is currency
     But to the poet it is the currency of rhyme
Heroic epic verses ,Odes,Rhyming verse
    And translations left right and centre.

Ethereal gifts making sense of the hopeless
    Antiquated jumble of English words n idioms

Impossible smilies as impractical unfeasible
     Unworkable, unattainable,inconceivable.
Measured against the conceivable by remove
     Of the whole reason for failure or excuses
Possible solutions are always potentially
     Available to the ever open mind of a poet
Obtain if you will the very unattainable for if
    You believe in God you most probably will.
Subjected to the most absurd verbal abuse
     Of an unromantic Philistine or carping critic
Stand upon your highest tip toe . Tall as you
  can be, yell and yell , making yourself heard
In so doing even an ugly Giant , fearsome
   Fire breathing Ogre will be confused awhile.
Blinded by the impossible beauty of the prose
   You write and the melodious songs you sing
Like the charming of a deadly Cobra,
  Mesmerised into loving every living thing
Every time you may have a smudge of doubt
  Creeping into your positive life with negativity.

Awake in that moment and assume that
   Nothing is nothing like as impossible as it is
Nothing was ever impossible to God .
   The one true creator, HE passes on his skills
Don’t be lead to believe by others that your life
   Is at all ludicrous, if that life works for you.

The struggle to overcome the differences
   Between the impossible and the possible
Herculean . If you stop to think about it ?
    Best have the courage of faith ,you’ll resolve
Each and everything you ever put your mind to
As unacceptably,positively out o’the question.

Practicable solutions and compromise dilutes
    The acid contamination of the perfection.
Oh, I have seen this in my life so many times
     Before ,sadly only to expect to see it again
So take away any excuse for failure .Find !!
   the tools to make the unthinkable thinkable
Substitute the negatives for a positive frame
  Of your mind the unreasonable to reasonable
Illogical thoughts and actions you convert
   By your process of logical practical analysis
Before long , my goodness it’s before your very
   Eyes. The simple solution to the problem
Like a magic wand covered in Fairy dust
Making every impossible task possible in time
Earth took its creator only six days to design
  and several million years for us to get it as is
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
November 14th 2018.

Situation of inflation.
Betrayal saturates your current fate.
Destiny can no longer wait.
Your enemies deceive & hate.

Objectify a small white lie.
An unanswered why.

People & things fall apart.
Torn in half & broken hearts.

Salvage pieces to make it whole.
Satisfaction in a cereal bowl.

Truth unbelieved.
People you can't be with you leave.

First, you have get to an email address
and then fashion a sculpture
out of daisies and moonbeams
as a wedding present for your love;
practice your poetry because
it will come in handy when tongue tied;
pentameter is a pocket ace
and the game is cutthroat so you’re
gonna wanna have some ready;
calisthenics are required
as is having the right politics
but dissimilar guacamole preferences
are usually alright for awhile;
be sure to develop a tolerance
for sand between your toes;
learn to frolic, but never skip;
don’t buy a boat because nobody
has time for a sweater cape enthusiast
and drowning is very unromantic;
Grow roses and cook eggs every way
you can but ever respect the bacon;
Practice looking longingly;
Toss your hair and brush your teeth;
**** your socks but carefully
maintain just enough flaws
to seem endearing and then
forget all this because the only
time you chose to fall is suicide
and it’s kind of like a bridge jump,
so it’s time to just lie back and enjoy
the dopamine rush while it lasts;
you’ve roped a unicorn,
the fleeting chemistry of
your synapses will thank
or blame you later.

The struggle to overcome the differences        
        Between the impossible and the possible
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The struggle to overcome the differences        
        Between the impossible and the possible
Hope being the word that springs to mind.            
        To link these two opposites to attract.
Eternally wandering Cyber space side by side,    
         Hooking into every adjective or verb.

Seeking impossible causes and take away
    Excuses and make them once more possible
To overcome the bigotry and blind self-centred
     Mind sets of the Atheist Un-Believers
Reaching cornerstones of minds that Muslim          
   or        Christian Faiths never thought existed.
Unless you have all spent your life on earth
       In a Butterfly cocoon , not in real time.
GOD has chosen you to teach the differences
    Poetically between the Impossible n possible
Given that that if you don’t succeed first time
    You will eventually get it right next time.
Love for all your Fellow Men and Women
     May seem important,trust me it’s the way.
Every possibility, has been, at sometime within
     It’s long life, seemingly most impossible.

Take the clever fabrication of a silk purse
      Out of a muddy sow’s ear , if you will ?
Or the finding of a needle in a hay -stack.
       Or the abolition of third world hunger?

Or the creation of the Love of Nations unto
  Nations .The end all Wars n Ethnic cleansing
Very nearly every problem has a solution
    Indeed many solutions do often exist.
Electricity? How unbelievable to most thought      
    So impossible once upon a time.
Radio waves converted into the sweet sounds
     Ever to be heard by mortal Man.
Communication n instant chat across a globe
      In real time, one to one, No ? Impossible.
Of loving commitment betwixt different creeds
      And cultures ,without ever meeting possible
Mighty soon God will look down on the Earth
       And see two wonderful words rolled to one
Entreating the impossible always possible
        And the possible never impossible.

The struggle to overcome the differences
    Between the the impossible and the possible
Holy ,holy,holy ! Eureka , glory be .We are
     We are getting there , I really do believe.
Eternally where two poets or more can meet
    And compose , recite and critique as one

Differences are diffused between the
    Impossible and the possible, reduced to nil.
In practical terms every metaphor or rhetoric
    Noun verb or adjective can be polished.
From the most impossible dream into reality
     Of the finest poetry ever written.
From the dullest of dyslectic muttering
      To the most floral of sweetest love songs
Endlessly tripping from the lips of strangers
       Meeting strangers ,wisest verse ever ?
Reactivating opposites attracting impossibly
      With the possibility of judging for yourself.
Enactment with that poet that composed this
      Lengthy missive...you never wished to meet
Never in a thousand years of co-habitation
     Meeting this poet maybe possibly possible
Catch the impossible chance on the
     Boundaries of your mind to make it work
Every chance that catch can win the game
   Turning an impossible result into success
Success is the fuel to drive the possibility
   Beyond the full limits of the impossible

By making then the impossible possible
  You’ve changed in one action your whole life.
Every possible thought can be dismissed
    From your mind , possible for ever.
The sun to leave the sky ,rivers all run dry ?
    Babies not to cry ? No that’s impossible.
We have that song within our minds
   Which possibly keeps our feet on the ground
Every now and then to accept that all things
   Are possibly impossible
Even mighty magicians from time to time
   Cannot turn, however hard they try by day n
Night to raise experiments turning base metals
     Into gold. For no good reason save reward.

The gold that they are seeking is currency
     But to the poet it is the currency of rhyme
Heroic epic verses ,Odes,Rhyming verse
    And translations left right and centre.

Ethereal gifts making sense of the hopeless
    Antiquated jumble of English words n idioms

Impossible smilies as impractical unfeasible
     Unworkable, unattainable,inconceivable.
Measured against the conceivable by remove
     Of the whole reason for failure or excuses
Possible solutions are always potentially
     Available to the ever open mind of a poet
Obtain if you will the very unattainable for if
    You believe in God you most probably will.
Subjected to the most absurd verbal abuse
     Of an unromantic Philistine or carping critic
Stand upon your highest tip toe . Tall as you
  can be, yell and yell , making yourself heard
In so doing even an ugly Giant , fearsome
   Fire breathing Ogre will be confused awhile.
Blinded by the impossible beauty of the prose
   You write and the melodious songs you sing
Like the charming of a deadly Cobra,
  Mesmerised into loving every living thing
Every time you may have a smudge of doubt
  Creeping into your positive life with negativity.

Awake in that moment and assume that
   Nothing is nothing like as impossible as it is
Nothing was ever impossible to God .
   The one true creator, HE passes on his skills
Don’t be lead to believe by others that your life
   Is at all ludicrous, if that life works for you.

The struggle to overcome the differences
   Between the impossible and the possible
Herculean . If you stop to think about it ?
    Best have the courage of faith ,you’ll resolve
Each and everything you ever put your mind to
As unacceptably,positively out o’the question.

Practicable solutions and compromise dilutes
    The acid contamination of the perfection.
Oh, I have seen this in my life so many times
     Before ,sadly only to expect to see it again
So take away any excuse for failure .Find !!
   the tools to make the unthinkable thinkable
Substitute the negatives for a positive frame
  Of your mind the unreasonable to reasonable
Illogical thoughts and actions you convert
   By your process of logical practical analysis
Before long , my goodness it’s before your very
   Eyes. The simple solution to the problem
Like a magic wand covered in Fairy dust
Making every impossible task possible in time
Earth took its creator only six days to design
  and several million years for us to get it as is
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
November 14th 2018.

My feelings are stuck in my mind
If you have time to listen - be so kind.
You are unromantic is what they tell
But my heart knows no reasons why I fell.

You pass me by daily without a glance
A glimpse from you is one in a million chance.
My soul cries of craving for you - only you
Please Sir, hear my feelings oh so true!

Do not close the door of destiny on me
Open the ears of your heart and set me free.
I do not dare ask that you love me in return
Let me confess my emotions which brightly burn.

Love,
Your secret admirer

I'm a realist.
I'm indecisive.
I'm unromantic.

And that's about it.

The deceased was seventeen years old-
An enlarged heart, the coroner claims.
A basketball player on the court.
his team trailing in the game.
Their perfect season was at risk
when he shot and made a “Three”
He then collapsed upon the court
midst shouts of victory.

Hearts are unromantic things
That race and slow by turns.
They simply pump
While we run and jump
And prance about life’s stage.

We take for granted our own hearts
As we wander through our days.
Our faithful friend who never sleeps
So we can laugh and play

And when hearts fail we feel the pain
Of songs now left unsung.
That’s why we’re haunted by the tales
of Athletes dying young.

f I leave you with the impression
that I think you are perfect
I apologize.

As unromantic as it is
I simply know this isn't true
and like all of us you have more
baggage then we like to admit.

But one part of you I know to be perfect
is your aesthetics.

The way all of your parts
good and bad mix together
to create a person I can hardly
believe I've actually met.

Your beauty and insanity
lifelong dreams and daily desires
blend together and leave me
in the presence of somebody
unequivocally and irrefutably
real.

You exceed my maximum daily dose
of reality and although it isn't always
easy, I am only too glad to take
hit after hit.

The high is something I cannot describe.

What is it with four letters?
That mere intersections of lines and loops
Of curves and edges
Of creations of ballpoint pens
Have managed to spell the faces of the voices that keep me up at night

P-A-I-N. Pain was the story of age 5
The reverberation of the door slammed shut
It is the sound of my mother’s wails and my father’s rage
It is the sight of skin kissing skin in the most unromantic of ways

H-E-L-P. Help were the tears that have run dry from age 16
The tugs and pulls, of scratching to hold on to anything and everything
They were of hand after hand that stretched only to push and silence the crying of the girl left with nothing
They were the stares that spat on my face, whose breathe have filled my lungs with words
Which said, “you are not enough” , “you are a mistake”, “you will never be more than your failures,”

L-I-E-S. Lies are the roommates that have taken over my bed at age 21
They were the tags that came with the packages of death and failure
It tells me bedtime stories of fault and regret until I dream of only those
It is the gate that have forced its way to barricade my heart because my heart; no, my life; no, my existence is undeserving of interactions outside these walls

What is it with four letters?

D-O-N-E. Done is the selection of ropes and blades, of bullets and train rails at 23
It is finally believing in the bedtime stories of defeat and condemnation
It is stepping on that last rock, layers above creations worth saving more than I
But no, done is the shadow that stretched into my vision
It is the intersection of two lines that drew a gap between my feet and the fall
It is the truth of the fallen and the risen that have tilted my head to look back
At nail pierced hands that have been embracing me all along

R-A-I-N. Rain was the prayer I said at age 25
It is the drops of red that dripped from places in His body that are now just scars of triumph
It is the ocean that kisses the shore anew a million times a day
K-N-O-W. Know was I never forgotten
It is the realization of a presence that have charted my life’s story since day 1

What is it with four letters ?
What is it with four letters?
Wait, what is IN four letters?

H-O-P-E. Hope is man redeemed
It is the truth pain have tried to numb us of and lies have tried to replace our memories with
Hope is glorious substitution, it is of spared lashes and whips
It is the inhale and exhale of a man enduring
Of steps- right, left, right, left- of a body stained with blood untouched by this world of gravel and dirt

Hope was of a baby born on straws resting on earth’s grounds
Hope is from His last breathe, a scandalous end that exhaled life into a new beginning
It is Chapter 3 of an “undeniability” that defeat is a myth refuted by an empty tomb
Hope is redemption from resurrection, deliverance from remembrance
Love and grace eternal
Forgiveness impartial like fire that consumes all sides: past, present, future- the done, doing, and did

Hope is Christ taking flesh to save a creation unworthy but loved still
An irrationality made reality
Accept that this is not the end, that life may have moved without you but the Author of life has never failed to write you in each time
So stand today with an authority respired by Christ and rebuke the sayings and said
Of screams and whispers by your stories of ages 5, 16, and 21

Know that you are the King’s beloved, paid by a price with an amount that transcends infinity
Darling, hope is a four letter word written in strokes that spell L-O-R-D
And as everlasting as those letters spell is hope as eternal
So place a cross on your front porch
So next time pain and lies pay you a visit, they’ll know that your home is not of bricks and stones but of a body lined with bones and flesh of man who have conquered their master who is death

Bask in the divine, it is finished

Another poem from the pen of my alter ego Barry Hodges

Half asleep, I sense you rise from the bed
Where we have shared love's passion,
Your sweaty body glistening as the dawn's early light
Peeks through the curtains of our ensuite bedroom.
O! To think that our great love affair must end
Now that your husband has threatened
To asphyxiate your six dear children
If you do not cast me aside like a worn out shoe.
And when I awake fully I find you gone forever,
The only souvenir of our last night together
Being a small squashed **** lying on the stained bedlinen.
O! How can I ever forget such a tragic awakening?

FOOTNOTE
[I knew from bitter experience of similar occurrences that dear old Mrs Bloggs (Seaview Bijou B&B;, The Esplanade, Ramsgate, Kent) was bound to make a hefty surcharge to disinfect the bedding thoroughly. What an unromantic old ***** she was, may she rot in Hell forever.]

Sharp nose,
just a hint of
his wide open smile
in the screen light
maybe its unromantic
maybe its just plain weird
but his profile in the screen light
was one of the most beautiful things
I've ever held sight of
as if the real him
was coming out
and
only
i
could see it
but it burned me
his face in the screen light
it hurt me
that profile basked in blue light
simply
because
it scares me.

We found a new world,
                          yesterday.

Ordained with holy numbers
and d-a-s-h-e-s-
by modern priests in

blanket
white
cloth.

Pious, singularly
unromantic men.

Reaching for this sphere
it is into an unnamed sea
amid unmounted peaks
                            I shall fall,

a willfully disobedient
boy who drowned
with a hunger
that surpassed
                all worldly sustenance.

Though perhaps it’s for the best
I’ll never walk its corrugated

G a s e o u s
                surface,
for an epoch of chastity
would be corrupt
by my abrasive soles, my cutting
words, my fallible conscience
and mortal skin.


600 light-years?
I’ll save us both the effort.





©*Thomas Gabriel

The moon was so bright it was as bright as the moon.
The stars looked as radiant as stars in the sky.
You were next to me, and it felt as if you were near me.
And we held hands till they cramped up and were crippled for life.
This is so unromantic it's not romantic at all.
And it's not very poetic, it's not even poetry.
We were lying there under the trees...
Trees,
Swaying in the wind like my thoughts about butts.

I bet she is happier now.
She is beautiful.
I hope she is told frequently.
She is simple
and I am complicated.
She is able
and I am a hindrance.
She is intelligent and
I am foolish.
She is a visionary
and I am unromantic.
She's the enthusiast.
I am her admirer
Of all she does.
I gasp at her beauty.
I bet she is happier now.
She is beautiful,
and I am not.

I bet she is happier now.
She is beautiful.
I hope she is told frequently.
She is simple.
and I am complicated.
She is able.
I am a hindrance.
She is intelligent.
I am foolish.
She is a visionary.
I am unromantic.
She's the enthusiast.
I am the admirer
Of all she does.
I gasp at her beauty.
I bet she is happier now.
She is beautiful,
and I am not.

I want you to take me in the most unromantic way
pull my hair
and go harder
kiss me softly
and hold me tight
I want you to take me in the most romantic way

You find out from the news, or from plain sight
Harsh words seethe, a green monster seems to bite
You may have found love, but you can’t be glad
For those who find it in ways you deem bad
Saying they ‘go too fast’ or they ‘go too slow’
Commenting more on what you think you know
Thoughts on displays of affection or gifts
Loud glances, ‘hushed’ voices during their rifts
Taking sides, volunteering to advise
Putting forth opinions you think are wise
On what must be and on what is proper
Anything otherwise a heart-stopper.
I’d like to know- why do you care so much?
Do you long for beauty that you can’t touch?
Why do you defile that which you can’t see
Thriving in embarrassment, misery?
Who laid the rules of what should be and not?
Why can’t you be happy with what you’ve got?
Everyone’s not the same, they all vary
In tempers, love and personality
They find it differently, to each his own
Whether it’s when they’re young or when they’re grown
Whether it takes a week, a month or years
They have only their confusion to clear,
Understand the mess of their emotion
And follow their hearts along that notion.
So they go to unromantic places
Perhaps they choose to avoid dumb faces.
So they post too many photos online
So you believe, but they're the ones who shine.
So they seem passionate for your liking
Too lustful? Well, stop the overthinking.
So they’ve gotten together way too soon
So you say, and you think they’re wacky loons
Maybe they’re swept in that wondrous magic
The fact you can’t ignore them is tragic.
So they make mistakes, and find hearts elsewhere
Don’t analyse for chemistry in pairs
Curious where they are, if they’ve gone further
Don’t hail one and just dismiss the other.
So they choose to marry early, or late
Don’t ask why they hurry or want to wait.
So they don’t seem to want marriage at all
Every decision of theirs is their call.
It’s their **** business, and they do it well
They don’t ask for your ideas to sell.
Kindly live in peace, they did you no harm
Leave them alone, and work on your own charm.

And now she's your whole life?
And now she's your whole world?
I just can't believe the way you suddenly feel about her

Perhaps you should have been willing to change
Before she left
Maybe she would have felt more loved
If you would have shut off your play station
Put down your phone
(That was filled with other girls' pictures)
And sat down next to her
Looked in her blue eyes, that run in our family
And say "I love you, and I will do anything to make you happy"

But, of course, unromantic love
Is part of your red neck charm, isn't it?
Well, the closest thing you are to a charmer
Is a king cobra that will strangle you to death
If you don't play the flute right

You plan to live in your mom's house
Until she leaves for an old folk's home
You are such a loving son
And they always say
A man treats his woman how he treats his mom
And that couldn't be further from the truth

You are like a leech that ***** her emotional stamina
And her self esteem
Perhaps that's why she is self-conscious
And covers up her smile
Because you were the one that dimmed her sparkle
By saying "You spent all that time getting ready and you look like that?

And what am I supposed to do?
Comfort her and console her
And reassure her that not all men out there are like you

Oh, yes, you'll look back someday
At this moment that you are in
You'll wish you looked at her and said
"I should have loved you then"

I dreamt once that I danced with you.

Fox trot,
White dress,
Dim lit room.

I looked more like my grandmother than myself
But you just looked a better version of you.

No needle marks in sight.

You told me you liked us this way,
No fighting,
Everything clear, reality perfectly defined.

No confusion, nothing bad,

Just us, a gramophone, love,

And just when I don't need it most,

An alarm clock to wake me up.

And the sound is no dancing tune. It is

As harsh and loud
And crass
As the you who stirs beside me,

As unromantic as a broken record.

Why do you not sleep and roam with me, at night?
Talk to city airplanes, migrant trucks, loose wind.
Silent breeze. Tea across the road. Furious ginger tea.

Fetch me some sea, Arabian stories and boredom
To the land, lost and barren next to an unromantic riverbed,
My love, this land is everywhere but for now, with me.

I hear no voice, no music to your intimate conversations,
Let me gather my bits and press it over you. How does-
It feel? How does it finally feel to be a listener?

Days like this, I do not crave a somewhere behind me
Now that you’ve come so far, I might swim with you
But I need a return. A return before the night.

Sunshine, moonshine, shoeshine
only the last I can claim to be mine.

"i'm proud of you."
the twisting, brilliant tendrils of your words
are tied around my ribs

what hurt was the paralyzing sting
of the bottomless ocean of reality
drenching the bonfires
that had blinded my heart
for years, linked together
by your pouring of gasoline

our love was unromantic
and while we didn't honeymoon in venice
my blood still
pumps through smoking embers

all we have between us are memories
all we will ever have between us is memories
and the weight of my forgetful mind
will not relent in constricting my lungs

your marble column legs
held me upright
and i'll be ******
because this earthquake
lead to my collapse

a note to you:
nobody knows me here.
i am drained.
i am nobody to be proud of.

I can remember this moment just as clearly as if it happened an hour ago. there was this one night you texted me, long after you said you'd gone to sleep, and told me you couldn't stop thinking about me. It was early in our relationship, so it made sense, honeymoon phase and whatever. But it still makes me smile so much because it was brilliant, unromantic you staying up into the wee hours of the night thinking of crazy, turbulent me. It was ever so poignant considering how much I disliked myself then and how much I adored you.

You started messaging me with song links and lyrics, clumsily trying to explain why certain lyrics totally fit how you felt about me and only those parts. It was adorable and even now I can close my eyes and picture myself curled up and so in love with this clutzy expression of affection.

The song you kept on talking about, half drunk with exhaustion, was a song called "Always". You quirkily were insisting to ignore the parts of the songs that were negative, and just focus on the parts that talked about always thinking of me and having trouble living without me, or something. It was so late at night and so silly and so incoherent, but I can feel it. I can feel it in my bones, my blunt boyfriend getting all mushy about me.

I know we have some problems right now. I need to stop erupting and blaming my issues on you. You need to stop threatening the end of our relationship when I upset you. I need to give more focus on to bettering our relationship and myself for it. You need to open up again.

But when I can close my eyes and remember the guy who cried over the first poem of mine he read, or the one who couldn't handle seeing me so hurt when you first learned about it, and the one who's so brilliant, who's so determined, and strong, and you, I can't fathom letting that go. Letting you go.

Recently in one of my classes my teacher talked about the mystery of why writers, who sometimes don't like people very much, still talk to a lot of people. I know why I do. People fascinate me, how they think, how they act. And I think I love learning how you think the most. It fascinates me. It may not be my way, and it may not be what I think is best sometimes, but its mesmerizing watching you be you. Watching you do the things you do. Not only do you supplement my emotion-driven, wild, writing ways, but you always inspire them. You inspire me. I never feel a need to be you, but I always feel a need to be better for you, for us, and for me. I always feel a need to grow. Maybe sometimes it kicks my *** when I need to take a breath, but in the end?

I'm going places. I hope to always go places with you.

I know going back doesn't work. I know I don't exactly want me back then either. But I know with you I have moments with you, with me, with US, that always just make me stop, take a breath, and smile with how wonderful to me they look.

You're wonderful, dear. Not perfect, I will kick your cute *** before you start going there, but just right. Just what I need.

I don't really know where I'm going anymore. I just love you. I think I always will.

Always.

Never knew that word would ever make me smile instead of curl up in fear. Well, I guess that's where I'm at, love. Even when its hard. Even when I need you to alter things a bit. Even when you're frustrated with me because I'm not where you want me to be. I may not like you that second, but of course I'll still love you.

I always will.

Never being particularly athleticly inclined, I began training myself to be ambidextrous. I decided this way I could write you love letters with my left hand too. And I'm sorry if that seems tragically unromantic but I want to love you with both hands equally. So I'm sorry if the letters are smudged or if it doesn't seem like much but I hope you never hold another girls hand who learned how to write with both for you. And if some day you do, is it true? Do you love her like you say you do? And if one day you find yourself twisted up in some strange girls sheets don't be alarmed when she suddenly shrieks at the poorly printed words along your spine. I wrote you poetry in my sleep instead of keeping time, darling.

Like a well oiled engine, my heart whirrs in pleasure at your sight
Found a biker boy and rode into the sunset

I'm a ship honey. Take me from my harbor
A sailor caught my helm and sailed into the horizon

Are you a black hole? Because you **** me in.
The physicist sat me on his lap and we got lost in space

Are you Messi ? Because I'm a Ballon d'or.
Shots were fired. Goals were scored. And they ruled the field together.

I have reached the top tier of Maslow's needs.
After extensive psychoanalysis, we found our counselors in each other.

If you're a rebuttal point, I'll always have you covered.
She and the debater found their grey patch amidst the black and white.

I'll make you a sandwich if you are male, white and a misogynist.
She found love with the racist and waited on him hand and foot.

I'll draw your heart with HB pencils and make an acrylic out of our relationship.
The artist found her bluetiful and incRedible.

I'm a South Indian who loves dosa, an uneducated Bihari, the patanjali promoting Hindu, the Muslim terrorist, the Christian converter, the Russian spy, the fake Chinese, the blond cheerleader, the ladyless female football player, the classy British, the poor illiterate, the fat American, the mannerless slum dweller, the conservative Indian woman, the dumb ****, the unromantic geek, the bald science teacher, the old librarian, the charisma less nerd......
Stereotype found it's soulmate and lived happily ever after.

I fall in love with words. Ink is my blood. Emotions and thoughts are my food.
The poet smirked and said," Haha! Nice try."

~Pacific Wolf

The cheap dagger I saved for you
Were conjured of prayers
We invoked to live in agony
In the shelter of a golden cage
Unromantic

Unpack it, beloved
Strive your sin, and pure your soul
The verses in your wail
Will save us from the wire
Chained to our feet

Yes,
Let go of
These
Hellbound handcuffs
Weaved out of flame
Locked out of paradise—

I want to go home.

We
Shall repent for romance.

Before that,
Do not look in the mirror,
You will find yourself a beast
In the heart, death by starvation
Without caress, in abomination

We
Shall repent for romance.
Love
Has no power
To bring us back home.

Lavish the dagger
With our tears.
Hurry,
This will be the key
To our home
In the heart.