sonnet 101
“every day i’m on the same fucking rant;
and this shit’s eating at my very soul…
i try to get over it but i can’t,
i’m so stressed out, i’ve become an asshole…
nah, i’ve been an asshole; i won’t deny,
though i claim to be a lover of most…
i haven’t figured out exactly why,
“i love you’s” from me make women turn ghost;
like the thought behind the words should be feared…
my brain’s been unable to comprehend,
once i mouthed that line, why love disappeared,
and brought about a relationship’s end...
here’s the question i ponder every day:
is “i love you” now something not to say?”
sonnet 102
“i’ve come to realize that the truest truth,
is one i’ve often thought i could deny…
so i write these words to offer as proof:
i’ll commit to something before i die…
a lady’s next to me with a baby,
big brown eyes staring at me and i know…
not “possibly”, or “perhaps”, or “maybe”;
i “definitely” have to make it so…
to be the reason “she” had curly hair;
or the reason “he” is really smart…
i see unreal children everywhere;
‘cause my mind is in accord with my heart…
like paternal intent’s been set in stone,
i know what i want and i want my own…”
sonnet 103
“sometimes wondered why i was all alone,
and which lover’s absence i’d deemed the worst…
‘til i formed a conclusion on my own:
that i’d never left love; love leaves me first…
didn’t ask her to stay, should’ve, but i,
couldn’t ask her to remain here for me…
i still don’t understand the reason why,
leaving me seemed to come off as easy…
when she’d once professed a love in her heart;
dedicated to one who’d loved her back…
no tearful goodbye when she did depart,
or emotions from words that seemed to lack…
the day she left, her love just disappeared,
and thoughts of loving someone became feared…”
sonnet 104
“i have thoughts of us and a single kiss…
my lips on yours, with our tongues intertwined…
a passionate moment of heated bliss,
where you and i are fullfillment defined…
you want to sneak off to a secret place,
to continue this splendor in private…
but i can’t release such a lovely face;
my desire simply won’t allow it…
i hold you close so everyone can see,
what fervor looks like at its most intense…
the lust between us, that overwhelms me,
proves an energy almost too immense…
with “almost” being the operative word,
since me kissing you is an act preferred…”
sonnet 105
“with her eyes shut, thoughts of me are composed,
every time that she’s in her bed alone…
her top’s still on, her lower half’s exposed;
as she wishes that her hands were my own…
she traces dual paths along naked thighs;
like they’re routes she imagines i would take…
‘til fingers reach the spot where pleasure lies,
of which she does voraciously partake…
driven over the edge of ecstasy,
again and again, her body spasms…
all the while fixed on images of me,
bringing her to multiple orgasms…
though she’s by herself, she’s never solo…
that’s something she and i will always know…”
sonnet 106
“i don’t really know any other way,
to show myself as a different kind…
i guess what it is i’m trying to say;
is that i tend to think what’s on my mind…
my thoughts are: my aim is understanding,
and not acceptance by men anymore…
so maybe i should be more demanding…
‘bout the relationship i’m looking for…
er, not “demanding”, as much as zealous…
in finding people who like me for me…
i’ll say “you ‘get’ me?” and they’ll say “hell yes!”;
“b, you’re as awesome as awesome can be”…
i agree, do people like arrogance,
enough to give knowing me a chance?”
sonnet 107
“having penned thoughts for those that admire,
the thoughts i pen, and everything i write…
i pay tribute to those that inspire,
as a composer of symphonies might;
if words could be forged together as notes,
and used to create an ode one can hear…
when one speaks of love, and using my quotes;
it’s something i’ve written that they hold dear…
thus, i’ll continue putting pen to page,
to author my heart in beautiful script…
exposure seems to be a lover’s wage,
because everything i write is me stripped…
a woman to you, proves a muse to me…
in expressing myself through poetry…”
sonnet 108
“sometimes i think love’s more thoughts in my head,
much less ‘bout any feelings from my heart;
i merely write of the idea instead,
‘cause i can create a piece written smart…
i often feel i philosophize;
in profound thoughts that produce deeper views,
from those who read my words with their own eyes,
as black and white truth, mixed with other hues…
but then i recall that i’ve loved before,
and that love hadn’t been accidental…
at times i’ve determined myself unsure,
feelings show me love isn’t all mental…
i’m a thinker, i’ll do what thinker’s do;
but allow my heart to influence too…”
sonnet 109
““victoria’s secret” dumped in a pile,
barely three hours after first meeting;
i loved a woman, only for a while,
the time fate provided us was fleeting…
i used eloquent speak to invoke lust;
desire from her for me and my prose…
with profound thoughts, i made thinking a must,
far more of a requirement than clothes…
and words aimed at her were meant to seduce,
the initial one established the start…
it didn’t take her much time to deduce;
i wanted her mind as well as her heart…
naked in my arms, an intimate tryst;
became a connection that has been missed…”
sonnet 110
“in the dialogue between me and you,
there is subtext contained in every line…
i say i want one thing; it’s really two:
i want a wife and a child that are mine…
but “i want my own” means quoting myself;
spoken ‘cause i want my own family…
my life, and my definition of wealth,
will be determined by my legacy…
we talk about realizing our dreams of:
committing to each other with a vow,
a baby: half-me, half-you; but all love;
with a happily ever after: now…
i say i want two things; it’s really four:
you by my side, with one kid and one more…”
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