Presents..."Surrendering To Love" by Natasha Cain

"sitting here and wondering why i took the road that i did in my past i'm realizing that i may not have necessarily have done things quite the way i really wanted to in hindsight. i surrounded myself with wonderful people that influenced me greatly as a woman and just as a human being in this so called world. i was a creature of no nonsense and no tolerance for anything but really what was i afraid of? afraid to grow, be successful and most of all to love and be loved. i think that i had that once before, no I know that I did. what did i do to dismantle that love?

it started with an arrogant comment that lead to something more. something that was so beautiful beyond words but i will at least try to help you understand. we had so much in common. enjoying evenings of just togetherness that lead to the most intimate of times that were literally breath-taking. hearing the words "i love you" were just enough to send my heart into overdrive. i would think about this man constantly and when we were apart we were together. talking on the phone until i would fall asleep and when i woke up he was still on the phone listening to me sleep. at first it was creepy until i asked why he did it for him to respond "i want to be there when you wake up and need me." wow, where was this man from? so intelligent to me, i would call him a walking genius but yet so normal. i'd look forward to seein him in my daily routine. when we couldnt be together i would make sure that there was something with me of his to wear, to be close to, to feel his presence around me. without thinking i would randomly look at my phone and he would call out of nowhere.

things were going good. we were so much in love. i would entertain the thought of being the mother of his child and in time the mother of our children. family was everything to both of us. it's hard to imagine that we had so many plans for our future together that it didnt actually keep us together. i guess its true that people do grow apart. not just for bad reasons but just for reasons that we cant explain. as time goes by that person turns to a memory of what you wanted, what you needed to survive. and if you are so blessed in life to encounter that person again in life, what would you want to know about the progression of our separation? i posed the question and wasn't really prepared to hear the truth, the response, the reality. my question to him was simply "why did you leave me behind?" he responded "figured you didn't want me." i thought about this for awhile before replying back "i didn't say that." and quickly he replied "you didn't say anything."

how do we teach ourselves to move on so quickly? and how do we go from in love to not speaking. How do we pick up where our lives have ended and we have started anew. how do you tell the person that you've always loved that you still have that love in your heart for them...i think i just did..."

Presents..."Long Story Short" by Natasha Cain

"it's crazy that i've been blogging for almost two years and i've never even posted anything by my, well, co-pilot on this flight. after thoroughly kicking my own ass for that, i'm posting the first in a long line of her brilliant thoughts..."

"failure is not in my dictionary.
persistance is.
ambition is.
achievement is.
success is.
adventure is.
endurance is.
perseverance is.
failure isn’t"

Quotes...Me...VI

"i've come to the conclusion that i need to be the number one priority of someone, even if that person has to be me."

"telling her that her vagina has a pungent odor produces the same reaction from a girl as saying her pussy stinks."

"i don't understand any woman, i just pretend better than most guys."

"i hate when someone tries to downplay your situation by telling you there's always someone who has it worse than you do. by that same logic, wasn't i that someone more worse off another person was referring about when they had been told that? when did i stop being that person?"

"arrogant, brash, cocky: words used to describe me but the truth is i don't think i'm the best; i just don't think there's anybody better than me."

"it's remarkable how afraid i am to be remarkable."

"i have the feeling today is going to be a good d...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz​zz."

"when life is shitty, flush the toilet."

"i'm a sarcass-hole."

"people always say they want to know what i'm thinking but i spill my guts in everything i write."

Quotes...Natasha Cain

@brian wilson... "you still piss the most excellent piss ever."

Writes..."Sonnets 31-40; Plus The Re-Write Of Sonnet 33"

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”…”

Writes..."Sonnets 21-30"

sonnet 21

“today was the day i put down my pen…
always said i would when my words meant less…
and now that that’s known it’s time that i end…
using my brain to come up with this mess…
using my heart to express how i feel…
‘cause apparently it’s fuck what i say…
my words are ignored, even when i kneel…
so i’ve decided on another way…
i’m done with talking from down on my knees…
and begging for things outside of my reach…
i’m cursing metaphors and similes…
all other types of figurative speech…
fuck all that shit, my pen’s been retired…
no more thoughts; i’m no longer inspired…”

sonnet 22

“i think about her when it’s dark and cold…
and the fall wind blows at the window pane…
when i’m all alone with no one to hold…
solitude threatens to drive me insane…
the thought of another sleep without her…
knowing where she is isn’t in my bed…
my fear attempts to label me “doubter”…
on whether she’d rather be here instead…
i call out her name in the blackened night…
and it echoes against my bedroom wall…
shining stars appear as the only light…
illuminating my tears as they fall…
i die inside, outside of my own heart…
as an actor playing a lover’s part…”

sonnet 23

“i watch a goddess in a beaded gown…
grip marble rails as she descends each stair…
her eyes and her skin; a contrast in brown…
with more in strands highlighting darker hair…
dress’s so bright it's vibrantly alive…
red; it matches her passionate spirit…
i'm wanting; thus i’ll continually strive…
to do the things i can to be near it…
ring on one hand, bracelet off the other…
but diamonds on both prove the perfect touch…
moving forward, one step then another…
she’s a sight my eyes deem almost too much…
god’s own brushstroke on a painting of “fine”…
a beauty in scarlet; forever mine…”

sonnet 24

“this is me writing about love in rap…
well maybe not love, but the clichéd themes…
where thoughts of cash and boners overlap…
and life with strippers is a life of dreams…
what can be dumber than making it rain;
or someone willing to participate?
throwing away money so hard to gain…
i rather make women precipitate…
the panty’s wet because the pussy floods…
every time it’s a natural disaster…
and with my slightest touch her flower buds…
a green thumb and planting fingers master…
did that line refer to one that does dirt;
a gardener who’d rather make girls squirt?”

sonnet 25

““i love because i don’t know how not to…”
penned that line an eternity ago…
i often wonder if they’re still as true…
sometimes i feel i’ll never really know…
the problem’s my heart’s loves seem one-sided…
and it can’t turn off feelings that it felt…
so i spill my guts through thoughts confided…
hoping my words will make frozen hearts melt…
voltaire wrote that “hell is for loveless hearts”…
a loving one deserves a better fate…
hades isn’t where the suffering starts…
i’m tortured now, living in such a state…
i love because loving’s what makes up i…
surely i’ll know heaven before i die…”

sonnet 26

“sometimes i think that she’s waiting for me…
‘stead of moving on to another guy…
turn potential into what i should be…
and achieve a greatness before i die…
she longs for the riches, accolades, fame…
a future i’ve become a man of wealth…
where folks around the world’ll know my name…
and see me but dismiss i’m not myself…
at the side of a man of great repute…
when she’ll hold my hand, proud that she is there…
her barren tree had finally grown fruit…
apples, bananas; they’d be quite the pair…
sometimes i think she waits for that one day…
me being kinetic gets her to stay…”

sonnet 27

“she’s talking to me but my mind’s elsewhere…
well it’s there, just not on what she’s saying…
i wonder what'd happen if i were there…
and she understood i wasn’t playing…
times i tell her i love her it’s echoed…
like i’m expressing my thoughts in a cave…
she doesn’t really hear the words bestowed…
maybe she would if we planned a conclave…
where she actually sees me bare my soul…
as my feelings for her escape my lips…
“j’adore’s” deemed merely a phrase take a toll…
on even casual relationships…
could she see then the truth in what i speak?
saying "i love her"; in my heart, a peek…”


sonnet 28

“i’ve loved a woman a couple of times…
and a couple of times she loved me back…
sometimes for creating poetic rhymes…
sometimes for something i have others lack…
to some i had a face that attracted…
others probably intrigued by my brain…
those who found joy when we interacted…
a few for reasons that i deemed inane…
but when i loved it was with all my heart…
even when the words i used then failed me…
and couldn’t keep us from being apart…
the times trivial nothings derailed “we”…
i’ve loved and been loved, in life once or twice…
living without love is too harsh a price…”

sonnet 29

“the man behind these eyes, behind the pen…
captivates the readers with his phrasing…
his wordplay moves their imagination…
why an audience finds him amazing…
not normal; i suffer no illusions…
the thoughts in my head offer much insight…
my mind harbors grandeur in delusions…
what i write takes the dark out of the light…
what i write takes the love out of the hate…
dark and love; my brain and heart contradict…
they argue every time they conversate…
and end with my cerebrum getting dicked…
i’m a little crazy, my psyche’s pawn…
which means my words will echo when i’m gone…”

sonnet 30

““tick, tick, tick”; time counts down my life to nil…
the sands in my hourglass have decreased…
but i’m going to keep living until…
i no longer breathe because i’m deceased…
so as for living, the truth is in me…
act like this life’s the only one you get…
and since it won’t last indefinitely…
here is some advice i’ll never forget…
don’t behave like i have plenty of time…
didn’t tell one i loved her; walked away…
sure my heart wore a mask during the crime…
‘cause i robbed myself of passion that day…
learned lesson the hard way; an orange jumpsuit…
to say things now; death’s the ultimate mute…”

Writes..."Sonnets 11-20"

sonnet 11

““i think i love you”; only love can make…
a rational thinker irrational…
she told me not to those words lightly take…
“never”, i said, ‘fore any tears can fall…
she’s “scared of this thing we have going on”…
afraid “because it’s innocent and pure”…
we’re hesitant from having knowing one…
or two failed when we’d felt we’d been so sure…
“i know deep down we both want to taint it”…
and she’s right, what we have is worth risking…
to let our hearts become more acquainted…
and allow ourselves a chance at this thing…
her question was: “where do we go from here?”
hopefully a place where love conquers fear…”

sonnet 12

“last time i saw her she knew how i felt…
already penned a thousand words of love…
they’re the kind that make a woman’s heart melt…
they’re the kind that seem sent down from above…
could it be i’m too proud of my own words;
and they’re not as compelling as i think?
she’d asked if i liked the language of nerds;
duh…who else wants “quixotic” as his ink?
i don’t get girls from a genius i.q.…
yet compulsion tells me it’s my duty…
i’m a poet, i do what poets do…
turn thoughts about a girl into beauty…
then use that beauty as a note written…
to show that her essence has me smitten…”

sonnet 13

“we’d spent months talking ‘bout a life for us…
from the summer heat to the winter snow…
how we evolved from like to love to lust…
since when we were younger we didn’t know…
that there had been mutual attraction…
stealing peeks while the other looked away…
with very limited interaction…
we thought the feelings that we didn’t say…
it took years for us to accept the truth…
and admit that we’d messed up long before…
during that time our words were clearly proof…
she and i felt we were destined for more…
june to december; six months of a year…
then to forever; i'll hold our time dear…”

sonnet 14

“the truth is i find freckles attractive…
i don’t know why, i really can’t explain…
but things inside of me ‘come reactive…
certainly driving parts of me insane…
topless before me, she show me the dots…
on her face, her shoulders, front and her back…
tells me she has more in intimate spots…
teasing me, stepping out of panties black…
her body’s like space, i’m mapping out stars…
constellations stand out as i scan it…
the ones on her chest, ‘tween venus and mars…
make my fave place a little blue planet…
with another i like light years away…
where freckles line a path along the way…”

sonnet 15

“an invisible man, i’m never seen…
women pass me like i’m not even there…
appears this power’s the dominant gene…
ghost form’s the recessive one of the pair…
wait, i was redundant with the last line…
i guess i want to make sure my point’s made…
when he’s ignored can a man still be fine?
thoughts of a philosopher i’m afraid…
what should a man do to get them to see;
continue to voice words nobody hears?
“one looking for love is looking for me”…
i’ve already been saying that for years…
what should a man do who actually tries;
to truly be seen in a woman’s eyes?”

sonnet 16

“because i’m cocky ‘bout the things i do…
i’ve been called arrogant, brash, conceited…
words people use for “i’m better than you”…
forever winning; can’t be defeated…
never let the critics change who i am…
when it comes to a thought, i pen the best…
some may disagree, i don’t give a damn…
i’ll put what i write against all the rest…
here’s what i say when one wants to compare…
something i’ve written to something they wrote…
“having determined that life isn’t fair,
take the pen you used, stick it in your throat;
and bleed yourself out to a certain death…
professing my brilliance with your last breath”…”

sonnet 17

“my son met life on a saturday morn…
being the whole of two halves of our love…
“a baby genius”; before he was born…
was what she called him the times we’d thought of…
what a child created from us might be…
the best of what we each had to offer…
if he’d get his brains from a brilliant me…
he’d get his looks from a beautiful her…
the result of what is when something’s right…
when a man and woman truly connect…
during the course of a passionate night…
loving one another had been perfect…
and now that he’s here, it really does seem…
our son had been the most wonderful dream…”


sonnet 18

“i love a woman that doesn’t trust me…
bad ones from my past had changed who i was…
thinking that being a player must be…
exactly what it is a real man does…
so i bagged a few while i was shopping…
with looks, charm, a little friendly banter…
but now for a woman i am stopping…
it is a wish i will gladly grant her…
to lose her won’t be a chance that i took…
i’m sick of games; i tell her i’m ready…
prove that point by ripping up my black book…
make old numbers rain down like confetti…
maybe she’ll see this as convincing proof…
me saying that i love her is the truth…”

sonnet 19

“having sought it, i’ve found the truth to be…
nothing’s as inevitable as hell…
for ones surrounded by darkness like me…
don’t need any revelations to tell…
when people mistake the devil’s facade…
they see horns, a tail; a satyr-like beast…
but satan had been an angel of god…
and that only changed when his pride increased…
guess my point is every deadly sin has…
ways of revealing one’s true self of them…
i look at myself in reflective glass…
the mirror casts back an image of him…
as certain as the flowers in spring bloom…
i’ll burn one day for the things that consume…”

sonnet 20

“there’s a picture of her in a black dress…
i fall in love every time i view it…
satin in places, in others much less…
fabric’s so tight, her gown’s almost too fit…
spaghetti straps, though one’s off the shoulder…
exposing cleavage; a plunging neckline…
her dress screams she wishes i could hold her…
and that in my arms she’d tell me she’s mine…
though i wasn’t there when it was taken…
i still imagine she knew that i’d see…
that look in her eyes can’t be mistaken…
they burn with desire; passion for me…
sometimes it takes a black dress in order…
to draw one that’s away back toward her…”

Writes..."My Mantra"

"life is short; live it like there's no tomorrow because there is no tomorrow. there is no today and there was no yesterday; time isn't defined by tenses. your life merely consists of moments; opportunities where you consciously decide you're going to live by doing, or die by not. live your life."

Presents..."Sonnet 40-43" by William Shakespeare

i like sonnets, especially shakespeare's sonnets. i've posted "sonnet 43" before but i really felt i should post "40-43". collectively, they're who i am.

"take all my loves, my love; yea, take them all.
what hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
no love, my love, that thou mayst true love call.
all mine was thine before thou hadst this more.
then if for my love thou my love receivest,
i cannot blame thee, for my love thou usest.
but yet be blamed, if thou thyself deceivest
by wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
i do forgive thy robb'ry, gentle thief,
although thou steal thee all my poverty;
and yet love knows it is a greater grief
to bear love’s wrong than hate’s known injury.
lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.

those pretty wrongs that liberty commits
when i am sometime absent from thy heart,
thy beauty and thy years full well befits,
for still temptation follows where thou art.
gentle thou art, and therefore to be won;
beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed;
and when a woman woos, what woman’s son
will sourly leave her till he have prevailed?
ay me, but yet thou might’st my seat forbear,
and chide thy beauty and thy straying youth,
who lead thee in their riot even there
where thou art forced to break a twofold truth:
hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee,
thine by thy beauty being false to me.

that thou hast her it is not all my grief,
and yet it may be said i loved her dearly;
that she hath thee is of my wailing chief,
a loss in love that touches me more nearly.
loving offenders, thus i will excuse ye:
thou dost love her because thou knowst i love her;
and for my sake even so doth she abuse me,
suff'ring my friend for my sake to approve her.
if i lose thee, my loss is my love’s gain,
and losing her, my friend hath found that loss;
both find each other, and i lose both twain,
and both for my sake lay on me this cross.
but here’s the joy; my friend and i are one;
sweet flatt'ry! then she loves but me alone.

when most i wink, then do mine eyes best see,
for all the day they view things unrespected;
but when i sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
and, darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.
then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright—
how would thy shadow’s form form happy show
to the clear day with thy much clearer light,
when to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so?
how would, i say, mine eyes be blessèd made
by looking on thee in the living day,
when in dead night thy fair imperfect shade
through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay?
all days are nights to see till i see thee,
and nights bright days when dreams do show thee me."

Writes..."Sonnets 1-10"

sonnet 1

"i stopped dreaming about a perfect love...
imperfect men deem such exploits a waste...
and i stopped praying for strength from above...
to endure life without having a taste...
i try not to think 'bout times in the past...
when "she" and i and love had made a three...
foolishly wistful that it didn't last...
an ever after we'd live happily...
i don't long for past experiences...
with someone i've loved, though i'd loved them well...
my thinking's more towards other tenses...
presently avoiding a future hell...
alive, yet when does living truly start...
only when lovers share a loving heart..."

sonnet 2

"she dreamed of love at times she dreamed of me...
when she closed her eyes it was my face shown...
she'd deemed being my heart what life should be...
feelings of passion that she'd never known...
only dreamed of love when i dreamed of her...
she's the vision that i'd seen in my head...
i wish we had been better than we were...
when an "us" had involved others instead...
we dreamed of love when we dreamed about us...
a man wanting a woman wanting him...
my desire for her equaled her lust...
an intimacy that'd eluded them...
we've stopped dreaming now; i'm holding her hand...
living's for lovers loving all they can..."

sonnet 3

"how do you write of one you've never kissed...
not having done it, aren't they merely lines...
what does one pen when you've never pressed lips...
in terms of love, what actually defines...
a word as you commit one to an ode...
for someone worthy of more than a few...
how do you say that you've wanted to hold...
a girl you've wanted to be closer to...
you start by taking feelings from your heart...
and letting emotions flow on a page...
i think that constitutes a decent start...
because i use revealing prose to gauge...
her interest in something i've never said...
since i've never shared the things in my head..."

sonnet 4

"i told her i loved her and she took off...
leaving me and my words in wintry air...
a chilling breeze brings with it sickly cough...
that and heartache are a punishing pair...
it always seems like my words ring hollow...
having been spilled from my heart to her ears...
i wonder why her footsteps won't follow...
a path that leads to where my love appears...
i stand alone with a heart left broken...
with nothing to do to change how things are...
'cause she's scared of a promise i've spoken...
from me, she's let that fear take her afar...
but i love her so i'll be here waiting...
writing the thoughts my heart has been stating..."

sonnet 5

“stand before a mirror, what do i see?
an image of what: good fortune or health?
no, she’s gone; i’m missing a part of me…
yes, she’s gone; i’m but a shell of myself…
yesterday’s a past when she’d been my heart…
a time i loved her despite not knowing…
there’s pain in loving her when we’re apart…
and heartache when emotion’s not showing…
tomorrow’s a future that now seems lost…
as i wonder just why she’s gone away…
why she’s still searching when our paths have crossed?
to keep running when i wished that she’d stay…
stand before a mirror, i’m here alone…
reflecting on reflections of my own…”

sonnet 6

“girls got me thinking: “become more shifty”…
fucking with oysters without any pearls…
as for life mantras, i’ll invert 50’s…
it’s paid before laid when dealing with girls…
i’ve penned pretty words to get them to see…
yet i’ve found they prefer i show no class…
don’t nice guys strive to make nice girls happy?
‘cause assholes write shit like they’re after ass…
always been a chaser; a “bud light”, er…
look at that line i’m defaming myself…
bastards write asshole rhymes ‘cause they’re tighter…
i’m writing a sonnet; this line’s the twelfth…
oops, i meant to say i’m after ass too…
when i pen hot shit i’m looking to screw…”

sonnet 7

"drake wrote line 'bout the best he's ever had...
i can't do the same with the truth being...
i'll never know since we were never bad…
if eyes would deem me in her worth seeing…
i’d never advanced past holding her hand…
just once, i’d had her alone by my side…
even i find it hard to understand…
loving despite not having been inside…
i write lines ‘bout the girl i never got…
the girl of my dreams; one that got away…
how can someone be the best when i’ve not?
bedded that someone; or caused her to say?
i’m the best, having seen with her own eyes…
that nobody’s better between her thighs…”

sonnet 8

“on bended knee i promised her my life...
everything i am, everything i'd be...
genuflected; i want her as my wife…
she contemplated, looking down at me…
her tears became a stream that wet a face…
of one i professed love for long ago…
a different time, a different place…
when my heart’d made mistakes my life did show…
i told her then that i’d love her better…
than any before; she believed it ought…
i loved her before any penned letter…
she loved me before any spoken thought…
then promised herself to me in a word…
more tears, then a “yes”, was all that i heard…”

sonnet 9

“sometimes i wonder if love is a sin;
well, not love, as much me as loving her
i ask myself where does evil begin,
if it comes from denying what we were,
or what we should be; this life or the next
is that what deems our hearts guilty of bad?
to convey how we feel only through text…
yet save thoughts one day we’ll pray we still had
some list seven deadly; i’ve found an eighth,
fear’s why we won’t stand, afraid that we’ll fall
we live in our minds to keep our hearts safe;
but isn’t that the greatest sin of all?
hell’s living with words we never enact,
not taking a chance so hearts stay intact”

sonnet 10

“i grasp her hand as we enter the room…
a journey we’ve never taken before…
she’s a vision my eyes seek to consume…
they devour her as i close the door…
night is dark; she offers herself to me…
sliding down the straps of her satin bra…
they drape off her shoulders, a sight to see…
revealing perfect breasts that deserve awe…
with erect nipples excited from lust…
desire’s apparent; a stream of wet…
begins to flow from a place that i just…
whispered to her my touch wouldn’t forget…
fingers roam, her body pressed against mine…
when a mortal meets an angel divine…”