sonnet 31
“they say i have the mind of a poet;
the body of a poet, got that too…
poe’s “raven” chest; wouldn’t dare to show it;
his “annabel lee”’s more like what i do…
my strength to string a strand of syllables…
just used alliteration on a whim…
pretty good for one that merely dibbles…
dabbles…same difference; stole that from em'…
borrowed 5’9’’’s: “you won’t admit i’m nice”…
lyrically gifted; sickness for rhymes…
i’m sick with these lines; cough drops won’t suffice…
‘cause i spit up words on paper at times…
“i sweat brilliance, i shit genius”; more royce…
but “i piss excellence” in my own voice…”
sonnet 32
“ll wanted one from around the way…
‘cause men demand women be "ride or die"…
billy joel craved one with an uptown stay…
umm, “a deluxe apartment in the sky”?
van morrison longed for one that’s brown-eyed…
brown, blue, gray, green irises; all maybes…
queen’s fat-bottomed ones kept a large backside…
like redman said, “no pancake ass” ladies…
mine; i don’t know, i just want someone real…
real vagina, real breasts, really big ass…
real passion, really knowing how they feel…
really sharing really deep thoughts she has…
i guess i do know; someone reflective...
where real connections are their objective…”
sonnet 33
“i know in my heart that where love exists…
it endures despite the distance between…
surviving even when loving consists;
of seeing someone though they can’t be seen…
i know in my heart when feelings are real…
they allow a piece of one’s self to live…
and help damaged parts of ourselves to heal…
for those of us who are willing to give…
yet knowing these things doesn’t stop brown eyes…
from wetting with tears a face that is blue…
there’s pain in not understanding the why’s…
you don't realize how much i cry o'er you…
but i love you so i’ll go on waiting…
lone; with thoughts of “us” never abating…”
sonnet 33 (re-write)
“i know in my heart that where love exists…
it endures despite the distance between…
surviving even when loving consists;
of seeing someone though they can’t be seen…
i know in my heart when feelings are real…
that someone is near you when they’re distant…
keeping ones close when your plight’s not ideal…
they maintain because they stay insistent…
yet knowing these things doesn’t stop brown eyes…
from tearing up a face that is now blue…
there’s hurt in not understanding the why’s…
you don't realize how much i cry o'er you…
tissues get trashed, having wept a few streams…
maybe loving you’s not all that it seems…”
sonnet 34
“it’s stands permanent in permanent ink…
something lasting; as a tribute to me…
but is forever as long as i think;
and does “always” mean things always will be?
an idea grown from an interest shared…
that took on new life; became who i was…
who i am; was placed on her body bared…
what says “bonded” more than that gesture does?
but life brings about both winter and spring…
its changes can make things not what they’ve been…
if we aren’t the ones coupled by the ring,
would that reminder remain on her skin?
she once penned “…attached at the heart and brain”…
still in her's why on her it’ll remain…”
sonnet 35
“i’ve many things to do before i die…
like bringing forth the thoughts deep in my soul…
but when we talk i can’t figure out why…
sharing how i feel makes me the asshole…
as if expressing myself does offend…
one by exposing too much of my heart…
saying i love her as more than a friend…
are words the equivalent of a fart…
because assholes fart, releasing hot air…
and assholes talk shit; both, what they’re full of…
not a past rectum, i actually care…
i only say i love you when i love…
it appears the most vital thing to do:
“making what i say mean something to you”…”
sonnet 36
“we both want to taint it with love, sex…kids…”…
i’ll take her words; just removed the “drama”…
destiny for us is one that forbids…
the usage of the term “baby momma”…
that’s disrespect; “us” in a future tense…
sharing ourselves then would label her “wife”…
she and i would rise above the nonsense…
that others tend to let complicate life…
i digress, right now “taint” is an option…
though i think i prefer the word “enhance”…
intensify “us” through the adoption…
“love, sex…kids…” mean i get into her pants…
i’m only kidding; we’re really much more…
in this affair she also looks to score…”
sonnet 37
“there’s no comfort in knowing i believe…
in deception that comes from the ladies…
i’ve found that eyes lie and that smiles deceive…
but nothing’s more bullshit than their “maybe’s”…
“i’m flawed”; that’s a personal admission…
that i’ve never hesitated to make…
and yet “flawed” by its own definition…
means blemished; i claim girls as my mistake…
quotes: “i like you, we should be together”…
“i like you too, let me think about it”…
i wait; she tries to figure out whether…
her thoughts of us coupled should be doubted…
they betray me when a heart did waver…
and used power o’er me she did savor…”
sonnet 38
“i once dreamed a dream beyond abhorrent…
where evil was seen in a monster’s eyes…
and enduring the nightmare did warrant…
acts of deception, the telling of lies…
its world is black, i’m surrounded by night…
with the demons in the darkness creeping…
calling out my name, they step into sight…
then i realize i haven’t been sleeping…
pounding heartbeat, sweat runs down my forehead…
the reality of what i'm to find…
that hell is actually living instead;
and the devil i hear’s from my own mind…
i’ve dreamed infinite dreams but the truth is…
to survive by example: "mirror his"…”
sonnet 39
“always say i won’t name an unreal kid…
simply ‘cause children aren’t promised to me…
but in a past dream i found that i did…
bestow a designation on a “she”…
had an idea: take those that inspire,
influence me; and find their connection…
some qualities i’ve found i admire…
in two people; to show my affection…
i started with the first love in my life…
she is my mother, her name is “doris ann”…
then i chose from a list of writers rife…
went with oscar wilde; for quotes, he’s the man…
a girl in my arms; i proclaimed that day…
her name to be: “wilson, dorian gray”…”
sonnet 40
“every time i write there’s an autopsy…
my pen’s the scalpel; paper’s the table…
i’m gut-spilling, taking shit out of me…
surgically gifted to be able…
i lie out; verbal exsanguination…
that term is the perfect way to describe…
knife in gut means the assassination…
of emotions i have, death of the scribe…
my heart’s thoughts being the words that i bleed…
only when i feel i cut on myself;
fighting the whispers that tell me i need,
to let this shit go, to salvage my health…
but i hold on, though it has one dyin’…
internal struggle’s what makes up “brian”…”
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