sonnet 111
“there was a knock at my door late last night…
shocked me ‘cause i wasn’t sure she’d roll through…
she’d said she’d be in town, and that she might;
so i’d responded, “i “might” want you to…
i’m reckless with words when it comes to her,
‘cause our history’s reduced me to “prick”;
with what i say, there’s nothing to deter,
like the fact that she used to suck my dick…
i opened the door wearing just a towel…
then it dropped, but she’d seen my ass before…
and i didn’t care if the action seemed foul,
or appeared i thought i was gonna score…
naked exposure has caused me to see;
our relationship’s based on apathy…”
sonnet 112
“i’m now thiry-two, will be thirty-three,
in age shortly after the autumn’s dawn…
and i’ve discovered a pressing goal for me:
that before i die i create a spawn…
won’t not love a woman with her own kids…
a double negative tendered as proof;
a triple negative means life forbids,
me and my own; that’s what i know as truth…
a woman with kids; wanting, must want more,
not just mine because i don’t have any;
i’ve seen it too many times before,
when words were two-sided like a penny…
she want what i want until we were done,
me without a daughter or a son…”
sonnet 113
“i don’t tell jokes, but i say funny shit;
like that i have abandonment issues…
‘cause it’s hilarious i can’t forget;
the first time she left i needed tissues,
or the last time, when the tears shed were mine…
see, i find those two statements amusing…
‘cept they seems to be missing a punchline…
why is good comedy so confusing?
why is her leaving so disconcerting?
i guess ‘cause she professed a love for me,
and then went away, with my heart hurting,
after having declared a love for she…
perhaps i’m more comedian than not;
my love life being the stand-up i’ve got…”
sonnet 114
“in describing myself, here’s what i say;
i’m like no one but i’m still just a dude…
let me phrase who i am another way:
i’m a nobody with the attitude;
that nobody does it better than me…
whatever “it” is; does that make me vain?
the best there is “from sea to shining sea”…
(insert something here); “amber waves of grain”…
my critics say, well, who knows how they speak,
of someone who gives himself such acclaim?
if pissing excellence means that i leak,
then i leave droplets all over my name…
a talented guy, with numerous skills…
here stands: “the incomparable b. wils”…”
sonnet 115
“ i want a woman in a mini-skirt,
a halter top, with her cleavage exposed…
in clothes that make her intentions overt…
as she leans on a pole, carnally posed…
that’ll wink at me from o’er her shoulder…
as if to offer an invitation…
and i’ll advance; each step growing bolder,
sans even the slightest hesitation…
who’ll watch me approach with a knowing smile…
and raise her skirt to show nothing beneath…
a blatant seduction hoping that i’ll,
place myself behind her to then unsheathe,
the sword located inside “southpole” jeans…
for a passionate act where we mix genes…”
sonnet 116
“i recall when the thought first did occur,
having found out at the age of thirteen…
that being in love was being in her;
but wasn’t her, it was the space between…
because love inhabits where you’re inside;
in those moments when connections are made…
and feelings shared are shared through legs spread wide,
when more than a little skin is displayed…
but there’s no love for her ‘til she is nude,
and offering intimacy to you;
no love for her if you’ve already screwed,
with the pretense it would be born anew…
love is the first feel of her innocence…
when emotions are at their most intense…”
sonnet 117
“all i know of love, everything i’ve learned…
has come from something that i’ve watched or read;
and though it was deemed as passion that burned,
i find it merely a thought in my head…
‘cause it seems love doesn’t truly exist,
at least not in the way it’s been portrayed…
snapshots in black or white of being kissed,
or any act of affection displayed;
of an extreme that takes one to the brink,
along an edge where you can’t help but fall…
i don’t know; all i know is what i think;
i think i know very little at all…
‘cause i’ve only dreamed about the notion,
when love describes action and emotion…”
sonnet 118
“i need a woman and i need one quick,
with double-d breasts and an ass that’s fat…
hand on my sac while she swallows my dick…
er, forget i just wrote any of that…
fuck it, i wrote it, i dare not erase,
a thought explicit; don’t put them past me…
i need a woman; to “bust” on her face;
the use of slang meaning i “cum” nasty…
i’ve changed my mind, disregard those last lines;
i’m just venting some shit that’s in my head…
getting “head” would be what really defines,
the thing i need from a woman in bed;
or kneeling before me, backed against wall…
her need being the release from a ball…”
sonnet 119
“i’ve found in life there’s only one truth:
“a promise only means “promise” to me”…
fact that i’m writing this confirms as proof;
there’s more substance in it than there should be…
“promise you won’t say “i promise” if not;
do this for me since you’ve told me you love…
‘cause words that i use are all that i’ve got,
so i just use words for those i think of…”
she promised she wouldn’t; and i believed,
everything she whispered into my ear…
only for me to learn i’d be deceived,
or had been deceived, so it would appear…
when she promised me we’d always be one…
two halves of a whole; now seemingly done…”
sonnet 120
““a kiss will show if one has feelings for”…
no truer words have ever been spoken…
but i don’t think of talking anymore,
since refined speech tends to leave hearts broken…
so when “she” can’t determine how i feel,
‘cause i don’t verbalize my ardent side…
my lips on her lips prove “we” are for real;
a truthful action that has never lied…
true passion can’t be faked in oral bliss…
two people connected, each play their part…
thus, i swear by chemistry for a kiss:
it’s a concept i hold dear to my heart…
like the song says, for “if you want to know…”
more than all else, their kiss will tell you so…”
So true!
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