For G

You stack paper like a rapper’s cliche,
Bound book and loose leaf completely covered
In dense deep dreams, like a burning bouquet
Of the future. They say you discovered
Some secret corridor to a place where
Poetry falls from the sky in torrents
While epiphanies dance like Fred Astaire.
Each wild wonderful word you write warrants
Careful consideration. Because you
Did discover the perfect poetic
Place. It’s all around us, you just cut through
The bullshit with razor-sharp aesthetic
     And expose all the wonder we forsake,
     ‘Cause you are the motherfucking CUPCAKE!

Death of the Sonnet

Is the sonnet dead? Has time finally
Claimed this calm configuration of words?
You find so few of them in the wild, the
Sad specimens hobbled like awkward birds,
High-school homework littered with archaic
Language and dusty turns of phrase that serve
To create a pitiful mosaic
For any that that take the time to observe.
Will this form die along with the old man
On the radio and his audience
Of English professors? Is there a plan
To fight furious for the form's defense?
     No. There's not. Compose the sonnet's obit,
     But know this sonnet lives while you read it.

Beating Back the Burlesque

Well here we go, it looks like I have to
Adopt my nelly queen persona if
I actually want to converse with you
On a human level. You catch my whiff
Of flaming homosexuality
And slowly set aside your weaponry
That razor-sharp sexy smile you see
As a way to dominate guys like me
So that they know they cannot control you.
A target since puberty, you just don't
Approach until you know I won't pursue.
Now we can just be two people, you won't
     Treat me like the predators of your youth.
     Sometimes it takes a mask to show the truth.

My Best Request

The most virtuous thing that you can do,
Perhaps the highest calling of our age
Is to disarm an idealist, and to
Speak the nuance of the truth to the rage
Of those who only see in stark contrasts.
Expose the lie of the simple answer
That's twisted a million mistaken pasts,
Created chaos and been a cancer
On our path to a better tomorrow.
Let there be passion for the pragmatic.
Remember we're all fallible, and go
Teach them how to see the problematic
     In all that claims to be the one true way.
     Let doubt weed out absolutes that betray.

How Long is Now

You walk on a motherfucking high wire
Each step an intense task, each new footfall
Ecstatic victory. We all admire
That you proudly show us you will not crawl.
But each triumph gives way to new tension
Another chance to fail, to fall, and find
Yourself beaten by the wire. Suspension
Such as yours was only ever designed
To last so long, one end to the other
But you tight-rope-walk a trail without end
You let temporary tension smother
Long-term planning, a fatal flaw, my friend.
     And I know you can't tell that this is dire
     'Cause you can't see the forest for the fire.

Warning

You're setting yourself up for disaster
When the only things that you pursue are
The ones that retreat further and faster.
The best way to make sure that you never
Get what you want is to only want what
Doesn't want you. And the best way to stay
Most miserable, like, punch-in-the-gut
Pained and agonized, is to change the way
You are in hopes that you can make someone
Love you, to adopt a completely new
Personality and hope when you're done
The one you want will suddenly want you.
     It's pointless to point out this misery
     'Cause I know that's how you want it to be.

No End In Sight

The problem with love is that it's no end.
It's just another step forward on the
Journey. As much as you'd like to pretend
The credits will roll and you will be free
When you finally share that climactic kiss
The only thing I can guarantee is
That once you come up for air, all of this
Will still be here, no matter what she says.
And as long as your love may last, the earth
Will still be spinning long after the last
Memory of you has passed. So what worth
Is there in love that's destined for the past?
     It has only the value you give it.
     So don't try to capture love, just live it.

Prince Charming's Campaign

My charm is a siege weapon, designed to
Wear its way through her walls while I wait with
Patience just outside her gate. I undo
Her defenses and make myself a myth
Of everything she needs but can't have yet.
I'll become the person that she's always
Pictured at her side. She will frown and fret
With worry while thinking of all the ways
She could mess up and miss out on her chance
To be with me. And in the end I won't
Have to beat down her gate, she'll let me dance
Right in. That's when I'l leave, because I don't
     Want her. I don't want anyone at all.
     What I want is to watch defenses fall.

Bit By Bit

It's all right there, sitting in front of you,
The tools to create countless works of art
And publish them for the whole world to view.
They're waiting for you to pour out your heart,
Waiting for you to start using your voice.
So why aren't you saying anything? By
Just sitting there you've made the choice
To not create, and that means it's a lie
When you tell yourself that you could make it
If you just had the opportunity.
You can't make it because you can't commit
And because you lack the ability.
     My computer gives the world bit by bit
     To remind me I'm not worthy of it.

I Represent

She claims that I don't speak for anyone,
That I act out of pure self-interest.
But she can't see the way so many run
To take my side, to join me on my quest.
We're ready to find a way out of this
Swamp of suppressive shame, leaving behind
Those who would wallow in their own abyss.
We will evolve and become a new kind,
We'll use the gifts we've been blessed with, and leave
Ruined the hate that used to make us doubt.
We'll triumph, because of what we perceive.
Next time she says I'm alone, I will shout
     A truth that you can mount on your steeple,
     I represent the beautiful people.

Epicurean, Unbowed

I refuse to be a cautionary
Tale, an example of hedonism's
Dark consequences. Fate will not bury
My pleasures in comeuppance, no schisms
Will cleave me from those whom I care for most.
There is no shame in pursuing pleasure,
So tell your father, son, and holy ghost
That I have found my own earthly treasure
And I will continue to enjoy all
That this life has allowed me to receive.
So I will take this joy on the long haul
All the way to the grave, 'cause I believe
     Pleasure begets pleasure, joy begets joy.
     There's so much out there, so I won't be coy.

To the Better Man

I know you think you've claimed your prize, and I
Wish I could congratulate you on your
Victory. But I know the facts, and my
Heart simply cannot be brought to ignore
The way she quivered when she held me close,
Her pulse racing as those thin arms tried to
Capture desires she could only expose
In those secret silent moments the two
Of us shared. I know that passion frightened
Her. It was the first time she lost control.
Now she's with you, holding back the heightened
Passions she knows you can't stir in her soul.
     She chose you out of cold calculation,
     And that is no cause for celebration.

On the Occasion of Your Triumphant Return

The distance of an ocean is far less
Significant today than in the past.
It doesn't feel far when you can express
Whatever's on your mind in a quick blast
That travels, instantly, around the globe.
And so I've read your thoughts, I've seen your art,
Your voice has echoed in my prefrontal lobe,
But I still felt your absence in my heart.
Because some things can only be conveyed
When we share the same air, stand face to face,
When I can see your subtle signs displayed
In ways cameras cannot capture or trace.
     No simulacrum will ever explain
     How it will feel to embrace you again.

Let's Go

How far are you prepared to go in the
Pursuit of wild and reckless abandon?
Because I think it's high fucking time we
Scorch the sky like our joy was some new sun.
I want to set off something so stunning
Our names will turn to totems that future
Party people will invoke when gunning
For the greatest night of their lives. Let's tour
The border between too much and way, way
Too much. I'm prepared to make the edge a
Mere memory left behind, far away,
As we go hunting for the next hurrah.
     Take my hand and we will turn legends true.
     I could only have this much fun with you.

How He Does It

He comes equipped with an "ask forgiveness
Not permission" approach to boundaries.
He simply expects her to acquiesce
And if she gives him an inch, then he'll seize
Everything that lay before him, until
The word "no" finally falls from her lips.
Then his progress will halt, he will sit still,
His hands set like stone held on to her hips.
Though there is no forward motion, reverse
Doesn't begin until she demands it.
I can't comprehend how he can coerce
Them into giving more than they'd permit
     If he were to ask first, but I can tell
     It feels wrong to seduce with the hard sell.

The Gift of Johnny Irish

Cork seals the bottle that hangs from my neck
Where it was tied by a traveller three
Days prior. The tiny tincture's small speck
Of magic make it love potion, ready
To be imbibed by that special someone
And shared with me the moment we meet in
This dusty bacchanal. Oh then the fun
Will flow like fermented freedom and sin
Itself will stand awestruck at all we do.
So now it sits, resting against my chest,
Anxious for the moment it will bring true
Passion into this world. But it had best
     Be ready to wait a very long while,
     'Cause when I see her I'm too shy to smile.

Housewarming Blessing

Open this door as you'd open your heart
And step through this threshold prepared to smile.
You're in a place where silliness is smart
And the smart are fiendishly versatile.
This is a place where creation occurs,
Within these walls substance makes out with style,
Lost in the glitter and feathers and furs.
Where wisdom will find new ways to beguile
The beautiful and bewitch the brazen,
Inviting the muse and the inventor.
Are you ready to see all that lays in
Wait once you allow yourself to enter?
     You'll find a free-form feast for the fickle
     In the fabulous home of the tickle.

Oh Hell Yes

It's time to get in way over our heads,
To rush face first into the blinding light
With the full force throttle of thoroughbreds
Making the leap, holding each other tight.
It's time to roll around in the dirt of
The garden of eden, fucking in filth
So precious you can trade it for true love.
Throw out all sense of shame, all sense of stealth,
They should be able to hear us coming
And know, when we arrive, that they'll witness
Passion so powerful hearts are humming
In anticipation of feeling this.
     We'll love each other with pyrrhic fury,
     And we won't stop 'till we turn to debris.

She's Out There

I'm ready for the way that things will be
Once we have finally found each other.
I'm ready for the time we'll disagree
About the funniest way to bother
The missionaries at your door until
We finally compromise, deciding
That I'll wear the sequined thong and you will
Wear the gorilla suit. So stop hiding
In the potential and come out to play.
I'm ready for the inside jokes we'll share.
Ready to hold you as night becomes day.
Ready with the touch that will take you there,
      Remembering fondly when we first kissed.
     I'm ready to believe that you exist.

Can't Stop, Won't Stop

I am gonna make it through this year, but
I really wish I wouldn't. It would be
Much easier to pass than to face what
Is waiting in that dark future for me.
I can't comprehend how I will make it
Through twenty to forty more years of this.
But I know that I'm unable to quit
Even though I've lost my last chance at bliss.
Day will follow day, night will follow night,
And I wil be thrust through them with the force
Of pure inertia, and all of my might
Won't be able to stop me on this course.
     Life is long, with poor resolution
     I just want a permanent solution.