I want love

Friendships are boring, they never last, ambitious humans in the back

I'd rather be Anthony kissing Cleopatra than liquidate myself without romantic passion

Wherever I go, classes, volunteering, I've lost control, car's careering

Eye contact. Tedious, pierces my soul, must I burrow... like a lonely mole

Has there got to be? Setbacks? Disappointments? Every turn? is it too late now to love and to learn

All civilizations crumble, all systems fail, anarchy reigns in the flourish of man's tail

Let's debate what is better, which idea is bright, but I fear all too often might means right

To be isolated, among few in numbers, therein lies a weakness, can tear man asunder

So then to wit that is why to love is to me, the most beautiful, astonishing, maddening spree

Oh me oh my oh you oh they, no don't let them get in the way

Ha ha ha, the chorus, ha ha ha, the chorus, they cry, they cry, they cry, they die, they die, they die, they

And you and I, and you, and yes, and I, and yes and die, and sigh, and cry, and my and my and my and, then, in Freud-ian-ian-ian, Ian, Ian, spe-ee-end, spe-ee-end, spe-ee-nd... a pe-ee,ee-ee,ee, en..nny

AAAHHHHHHHHHHHH--! Spin around with me.

"There's been a spillage on..." "...delusions of..." "...not again..." "Did you...?" "Is he-...."

QUICK!

"Not bad but I prefer Bohemian Rhapsody."

Dr. Phil! Oh I'd love someone to watch Dr. Phil soundboard calls with! Then all the joy would remain and the woes through the sieve!

"How you doing? So how you doing overall? I want you to list to me your best qualities and just don't think, just start talking."

Gregory Bateson's theories on double binds are fascinating, no? They are, they are. You know what, I was reading about pan-Islamism the other day; it can be distinguished from pan-Arabism, and frankly Egypt, though most people aren't quite conscious of it, still retains a pharaonic devotion to its magical history, and I suspect shall never truly assign itself as an Arab state.

Did you hear about Will Self apparently being mean to his wife? I did, yes, you never know what to make of these things. 

They felt ill at ease with where they were, the tenses changing, paradigms rearranging

In their faces contorted laces, sugary and sour, emaciated

If you decide to invite her for a drink, turn to page 42; if you ask her to accompany you to an alternate universe turn to page 80

Parents
  • Poetry-especially referencing the living experiences of the poet him/herself is only of very, very limited appeal so I would definitely avoid spouting it on a first date. I detest poetry anyway as I believe that it THE most self-indulgent means of expression- it seems to necessarily require that the audience allows itself to be dragged into the same dark corner/pit in order to "get" it and I believe that this is simply asking way too much of anybody.-sorry to be so brutal but I shared a house with a "poet" once and I have rarely felt so miserable and trapped.

  • I'm not that much of a fan of poetry myself. I don't even know why I wrote this, looking back. I was drunk, I think.

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