Yup, here I am, baring my soul - or at least, several different snapshots
of it. But hey, if you got this far, I don't mind sharing. I'll admit
right now most of it isn't anywhere near the league of ... well ... good.
Caveat reader, and don't blame me! I know better now, in most
cases. Still ... this is how I was. And it's reflected in how I am now, I
suppose. Anyway. Enough philosophy, on to the drivel! Oh. Poetry.
Right. Here they are, in the order I wrote them.
Not my *first* lust-crush, but ... well ... the first one I wrote bad
poetry about :-> But *ooh* he was so sexy. He was the captain of the
fencing team, and he had style ... I always volunteered to judge
his right back ... though I admit I missed a lot of touches at times, from
just *gazing* at his cute little butt. Heck, for all I know he still is
sexy - Adolfo Caballero, are you out there?
Written for my next semi-crush ... a more confused one. It's odd ... when
I wrote this poem it helped, somehow; sorted things out. But now when I
read it I have no idea what I was talking about. I wonder if that's good
or bad.
Ahhhhhh. My first real relationship ... I lost my virginity with the
subject of this poem about a month after I wrote it. Didn't end up working
out long-term, but he was a good friend, and, who knows, maybe it was
destined I learn about such things with someone that didn't engage my
soul. Probably safer that way. Scott, wherever you are, I wish you well,
and hope you've found someone as perfect as I did ....
My most recent, and - I think - best foray into poetry that actually
(gasp, urk, grab-at-chest) has *rhyme and meter*! It's not totally
consistent, but I tried, and to get the rhymes better I'd have either had
to (a) compromise the story's motion, or (b) go for some really sappy,
obvious ones. But hey. I'm actually pretty proud of this one, on the
whole. I hope you like it too.
Ahhhhh. :-> This is for the love of my life, John. Here's lookin' at you,
kid. The ... more upbeat trend of this poem's mood reflects my general
more-secure-with-lifeness, as contrasted with, say, Moody. You'll
see what I mean.
.... and, honestly, not mine. But a friend of mine wrote it, and permitted
me to read it, and I really don't think they'd mind me posting it.
Valentine Michael, I hope this helps your words to move more people, as
they moved me.