COME SEE BROWN BAG

Big booty, twenty-five!
Twenty-five, big booty.

HAPPY HOUR-AND-ELEVEN-MINUTES-LATE BIRTHDAY, SARAH!!!

I was jealous of Sarah's new 'do, so we straightened mine.

The requisite sexy photoshoot soon followed.







And a cookie.

Oh, and I'm also charging my laser vision.

Big booty, twenty-four!
Twenty-four, big booty.

Because I don't want to get too attached...

...to writing nothing but sonnets:

a haiku for you.

A breif pause--reflect:
What is it I'm doing here?
The street light changes.

BB23!
23bb.

This wasn't intentionally Edward....

My latest sonnets are not for public eyes, so here is a limerick to hold you over!

There once was a child made of knives
Who gave the most deadly high fives!
He tried making friends,
But they met dismal ends.
That poor, lonely child made of knives.

Big booty, numbah twenty-two!
Numbah twenty-two, big booty.

This is the result of me failing to write a villanelle

-------------

Less in love with your lover than with love,
You paint her face between heart-wrenching sighs--
But can't recall the color of her eyes
Or what precise complexion she is of.

'Tis just a tale when push does come to shove
But be that as it may, you realize
What admiration can be wrung from lies,
And many knees grow weak to share your love.

-------------

Lately I'm in the mood for iambic pentameter and romantic ruminations.

Big booty, numbah twenty-one!
Numbah twenty-one, big booty.

Sonnets on Possibility

   I.
A question dances, flutters 'cross my heart
As my hand into yours unsurely slips,
And though unsureties cause our hands to part,
I treasure ev'ry brush of fingertips.
I meet your gaze and try to read your face,
Amaz'd that you are more remote than I--
yet I can sense your secret care and grace,
And if that grace would grace me, meet mine eye...
I cannot help but dream while waking, for
The possibilities assault my mind:
A vision of you standing in the door--
"Can I come in?" you breathe, hopeful and kind.
   Is't just a dream I dream on, nothing true,
   Or do you dream the same dream that I do?


   II.
You are a tricky thing but I have no
Desire to solve you, crack your cryptic beauty--
Keep hidden what you will, and if you show
Your secrets, do so by your choice, not duty.
I am content to wonder as I see
Your mysteries unfolding one by one,
And as they unfold let them enfold me
And carry me where e'er their currents run.
I want to witness for myself the place
From which your shameless laughter is inspir'd
And though I'll never understand the space
I'll know 'tis where our shy hearts first conspir'd--
   So give me something certain, let me know,
   And hand in hand to mysteries we'll go.


   III.
Uncertainty and trepidation reign
Upon my body, chain my listless soul
Onto th'ungiving ground, and I would feign
Break free, lest freedom take its taming toll.
I think in may-bes, could-bes when you slide
Beneath my ever hesitating arm,
Of what might change with you there by my side;
If 'twould bring us to comfort or to harm.
You are a shining star in blackest night,
Surrounded by a sky as cold as ice
And I take solace in your nightly light--
A warmth that I would not soon sacrifice,
   But if you wish for hands to hold onto,
   I may open my hidden heart to you.


   IV.
My face was jealous when you took my hand
And brought my bruiséd finger to your lips.
My lips are bruiséd too, and they could stand
A touch from yours to heal their cracks and rips-
And yet, the touch you gave me when my heart
Was weighted down in bitterness was sweet
Enough a taste that I'd not choose to part
With what from you--a friend--I am receipt.
To know the reckless flavors of your kiss
Would stay the growing hunger in my breast,
But would it all the comfort and the bliss
That comes from being simple friends arrest?
   I wish that I could know your heart's design
   But please do not wish to discover mine.


   V.
It seems that I am ever doom'd to dream,
And, dreaming, let each oppurtunity
Slip through resignéd fingers as I deem
all possibilities unfit for me.
When e'er I close my eyes the visions come,
All stagg'ring in the scope of love I bear
To you, my love, but waking I am dumb
To any of my deepest longings share.
The web of love I spin is fragile, please
Don't hasten to be caught betwixt its thread
And weigh it down with harsh realities
Until it breaks, leaving you and it dead.
   There is so much at risk, I cannot say
   If we will both entangl'd be someday.

Big booty numbahs sixteen through twenty!
Numbahs sixteen through twenty, big booty.