Muse News Part 2

The headlines
Come like deadlines,
Hot and scrambling
(Not like gossip's ambling),
and I'm not used
To so much muse news.

My loins confused
Leave Cupid amused.

Innocent

Might I ask you an innocent question?
Or are you just here to teach me a lesson
About strangers or unwarrented trust,
Reaching too far, and the knife's heartward thrust?

I wonder if you might like an accomplice to your sin,
The kind who's not completely innocent of anything.







(Yes?  No?
Hello?
Guess I'll go.
Call me back though.)

Missed

(It's as though I almost know you.)
I know how I looked to those piercing eyes
That I now see right through.
I was just someone you could use,
Just another poet looking for his volunteer muse,
A wallet to cry on and dismember.
Neither first nor last, I'll remember,
From summer's kiss to my last December,
For your lies that enterprised to make me wise.
(That's why we're not together.)

You're back now to pick at the head you can't shrink,
Or the body you said you adore.
You left off taking too soon, you think:
There might be something more.
It wasn't the things you took from me,
But the manner of their giving.
If you really miss the sex and the things,
You missed the point of living.

Another

She marks my mind as ornament.
This re-awakes my pride,
But her life's living poetry;
Her stories funfair rides.

She flaunts that charm and intellect;
They greet you at the door.
For her, facts are but half-effect.
Be full?  You must explore.

As people meet in joyous times,
My eyes greet mind and form,
But wisdom I find behind grey eyes
Surpasses lines adored.

How does she make me feel,
and can I say I love her?
This young infatuation is
Made shallow by another.

Not Usually Like This

Friends made in a time
Often set aside
For unsettled silence:
I'm not usually like this.

A game of trading our best stories,
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours,"
Though I held a little back, of course.

Two tongues dance without touching.

Sonnot x+2: Fools

Your eyes, they flash; your hair, the same.
Your lips in me do kindle flame.
In every shade and every part,
I find the mark of beauty's art.

Once we converse, the flame must grow,
As I delight in what you know
Of letters, bodies, foreign lands
(But how much do you understand?)

Each word you say to me is nice.
Each sentence sparkles, smooth like ice.
You kindly offer things, as well,
Though why I'd want them, none can tell.

That which I chase can never be,
But men are fools for what they see.

No Return

Why should I start a fight
Or leave my path to write?
Life's too easy (when you're white).

"We" won't begin, so "We" won't end.
I like you just fine for a friend,

But what if there's no "home,"
Noplace normal to return?
Would we soar, or crash and burn?

Admiring Greed

You're the moment of humor that punctuates grief,
A desperate dive for a whole-hearted laugh.
I experience sentience' truest relief,
Cleaving together knowing this, too, shall pass.

I am stranded in the dark night, alone.
You are a careless dance in a snowstorm,
A moment of sanity so far from home.
Life's wild and windy 'til you make it warm.

You gave me a moment, and that's all I need
To fall into th'abyss of admiring greed.

Sonnot x+1: My Needing

It is no one part of you that fuels my need.
You are in no way as simple as you seem.
Holding your wise silence, your eyes gleam.

Up nature's greatest artist's form my eyes leap,
Til they rest upon a knowledge-ornamented peak.
(This I know.  Though silent now, I've heard you speak.)

You glisten above and below,
and I would take time, learn you slow.
There is so much I want to know.

Must I reveal, or should I hide
My thorough fascination? Beside
Such a sexual, intellectual being,
How could anyone blame my needing?

Next

The young know a god of heaven and hell
("Verily, I say unto thee
Do not worry,
For this mortal life is just a drill):
A supervising holy trinity
Of saving and damning and free will.

Everything changes as a teen.
I came to know a fertility queen,
A goddess of the earthly flesh
Whose rites I seek to perfect.
(Perhaps today?
I see she's not all gone away.)

As I further grow
In my taste for contemplation
I begin to know
A spirit of ultimate inspiration,
Nothing so simple as salvation
Or straightforward as sex,
and I begin to ask the question
"Whence come my answers next?"

Words and Meanings

You said five words,
and my deaf ears heard
Something louder,
A second's phrase
Mulled an hour.

It isn't your fault soft's loud,
That your kind is my proud.
Words have more meaning
When we aren't used to hearing.

I Was Right

On bikes, we pass
At the gas
Station.
I think I see my future,
But know I don't.
I'm sure.

By fantasy forsaken,
Seat taken,
Finding my worst poem
True when I awaken.
Can't complain, can't fight.
Why should I?  I was right.

To Be Friends

How dare you use
Eyes against me?
And to what end?
I don't want
To be friends.
I will ruin days
Once I'm away.
I want you gone.

I want to get my double homicide on.

Sonnot x: Sunshine

My love, your sparkling gaze is like the sun,
So how big must I be before I'm seen
(and might I have a better chance at fun
Pursuing one who won't lord over me)?

My lover's shine is something like the sun
(Though she, in point of fact, is rather thin)
In that she brings me heat and light and fun,
and oft a sense of scorching of the skin.

My sweet's mind's eye may, as the sun,
Penetrate the shady alcoves of my soul
So that I may chart myself when she is gone,
and my knowing of myself may be more whole.

For clouds may come, and sunny weather pass.
For, where we live, the sunshine doesn't last.

Words and Embraces

You are the slope
On which I backslide,
Encouraging acts
I would normally hide.

You are the reason,
and You the excuse
(If time is a resource)
For waste and abuse.

You are my devil,
You give me a push
Toward reading, in public,
Such filth and such mush,

and You are my angel,
You cushion my fall,
Your words and embraces
Redeeming it all.

Candy Heart

One look and he's on,
Employing his social art,
Serious as a candy-heart,
Almost sweet until he's gone.

I'd rather know how you're doing,
How you learn, who you are.
I'm not getting very far,
Getting what I get, deserving.

Boy From Van Horn

There once was a boy from Van Horn
Who stayed home from his school to watch porn.
His eyes got real wide.
His heart stopped, and he died,
By parents and webmasters mourned.

To Erato, Destroyer of Thought

I spare but a single look
To read this book.
It don't take long.
You and I are metered wrong.
We each have different times,
and different time.
We meet only at end-lines,
On slant-rhyme.

I can't be with you if you're just looking for the one
(But is that the reason anything is done?)