Ran across another poem online. Thought it might be appropriate for the hobby especially metaphorically speaking to your ATF

I've walked this path for many a year
And this I choose to say,
The flowers that you planted, bring
Joy the lights my way
I know that you're just a garderer
Who does this for a fee,
But I close my eyes and make believe
You've done them all for me.
I love these little posies whose beaty
Mocks my worldly cares
And allows my mind to slip its bonds
Awed by their flowery wares.
I'll never know, but strongly sense
These were laid with loving care.
I thank you for their joyful beauty,
And  all the love they share

YOU PLANT FLOWERS IN MY LIFE

I love impossibility
The complete impractibility
The lack of probability
Of ever waking up with you.

I adore the assignations
on the screen of my workstations
the illicit, fun relations
that I only have with you.

[Break]

At night I dream we're living in a bungalow
Peaches for breakfast, outside, sailboats in a row
I touch your hair, we kiss and then start again to go
But I wake: the S/O's coughing, and the dog snores down below!

I wonder when I'm all alone
Is there feeling or is it all homone
Just chemistry and pheremone
And the melody of chance.

But there's not a hint of ambiguity
or glib circumlocuity
there's only straight acuity
about a thousand bucks.

And at last, when I start shakin'
and my groin is set to quakin'
it's not love, I'm not mistaken,
I'm just cummin' inside you.

Ohhh, Thank you!!  I love poetry, especially hot sexy sensual poetry!

Yep it's an original that I sent to my ATF. Forgot to give the title YOU PLANT FLOWERS IN MY LIFE. Sorry about the misspellings but apparently the message got across. I also wrote another poem that you might like. I posted this about 18 months ago.
SO LET ME LOVE YOU

A fool I am to fall in love
A fool I am to stay,
But loving you brings me such joy
I'll never let love fly away.

Your soul I know I do not own,
I hold you for a single hour,
but in that fleeting bit of time
You give a taste of love's sweet power.

Thank you for the part you play
The mask you wear so things seem real,
And I can dream that love is mine
And truth is lent to how I feel.

So let me love you, my pretty lass,  (Change name as appropriate)
Love your laugh, your winsome smile.
Love your warmth, the joy you bring me.
So let me love you for awhile.

Kind of sounds selfpitying to me.

The quest to survival and upwards success FOR MALE OR FEMALE requires, in our well conditioned minds the so called dirty  dollar, (of course unless you are in another "spiritual" world with Wayne Dyer et al)

yet i READ OVER AND AND OVER how you guys BASH ladies for needing the dollar.   What idiocy is that all about?  Quit making yourselves look like idiots.



-- Modified on 10/26/2004 10:39:32 PM

I'm not sure how they guy ``bashed'' a provider.  He was only acknowledging the reality, ON HIS PART.  I am always excited about seeing a provider, but when I'm done - I'm done.  At least, that's my take on the poem.

And isn't that what poetry is all about.  Different perspectives - I say tomato[e], you say ketchup.

Ooops, I guess I'm criticizing you for your interpretation -
SORRY !!!

-- Modified on 10/26/2004 11:07:34 PM

about you.

Kiss kiss kill kill.

Violets are corney

When I think of you
oh baby I get so horney
e*t me
be*t me
b*te me
bl*w me
s*ck me
f*ck me
very slowly

if you kiss me dont be sassy
use your tongue and make it nasty

Oops! I got carried away...this is more like it


Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
And so are you

Cheers!





 

Yes, it's "original," tho I love, and therefore listen to a lot of Cole Porter and Stephin Merritt.  I won't say they've rubbed off, but they've influenced me.

I don't think it's self-pitying in the least.  Certainly not intended to be.  A bit cynical?  Perhaps.  But cynicism is a good antidote to self-delusion, and that's what the poem is about.

In homage to Turk

When I saw this new post of yours, Opiner, I had a Spinal Tap moment, when Christopher Guest plays that nice bit on the piano and Rob Reiner says "That was really beautiful...what's it called?", and Guest replies with a straight face "It's called 'Lick My Love Pump'".

Cole Porter would be proud of you, Turk.