Sonnettics

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like her words
I still remember when she told me, “fuck”
At times she sounds like simple little birds
When chirping words; her words are never stuck
Within the common realm of other sounds
Her words are music to my lonely ears
Her thoughts become her words, where strength abounds
Her noble strength conducts me through my fears
She writes her words in stories I can read
She likes it when I help massage her lines
I like to touch my mistress’ words. I need
To find the place where all our verse combines
My mistress’ words belong within my heart
To keep us close while we are far apart.

Our blanket on the beach is soft and warm
The stars we saw last night are fast asleep
I’m comfortable with you; you are my norm
There’s things I’d give away, but you, I’ll keep
I hear the rhythm of the wreckless sea
I hear the calm expressions of your breath
I hear your heart, and know I want to be
Forever by your side, so far from death
Your silence and your words invite my reach
I never knew my thoughts were grains of sand
I never knew my lover was my beach
We never knew the ocean would expand
And yet, we spread our blanket on the shore
Upon the bed of sand we both adore.

I know he said, “To be, or not to be”
But did he know the depth of what he said?
The concept doesn’t take a brain to see
To be alive is just to not be dead
So, Hamlet may have wanted to express
His knowledge of a simple, simple fact
But knowing Hamlet’s simple mind, I guess
He wished he could decide just how to act
Of course he didn’t know of “ands” and “ors”
His logic couldn’t reach a peaceful loft
But logic was his own, not Elsinore’s
He might have simply shrugged, or laughed, or coughed
He wasn’t like Polonius, a fool
He didn’t even know this simple rule.

My trepidation takes me by surprise
I’ve never been afraid of going home
I understand that no one’s told me lies
But meanings have been buried in some tome
I almost died; my life became surreal
It’s like a story no one’s ever told
And yet I write whatever words I feel
Regardless of the fact, my words are bold
It isn’t like I’m stupid or a fool
It’s just that I don’t understand my brain
I try my best to live the golden rule
But I’m afraid I might have gone insane!
Intrepidly, I’ll live my life this time
And finish with a couplet’s perfect rhyme.

The landscape of your portrait is the place
We sat and shared our mouths, beside the lake
I saw the sunlit beauty of your face
And hoped it was a picture I could take
But all my words are pale, compared to you
So, I just held your perfect hand and walked
I loved the path we chose; I loved the view
I also loved it when we sat and talked
You let me read some portraits I’d composed
And as I read, my words became the hues
Of rainbows which the sunlight had exposed
Above the landscape, which became my muse
The landscape of your portrait showed me more
Than any beauty I had seen before.

I shot interpretations at her heart
My accuracy shifted when expressed
And though I chose a sleek, metallic dart
Intentions were mercurial, at best
The aim of my interpretation failed
And even if it didn’t, I was screwed
Although I could control the way it sailed
Its meaning fell apart, was misconstrued
I took a second shot, but used a blank
It scared her, then we laughed, and then we cried
I’ve never used so serious a prank
If I’d have used a bullet, she’d have died!
I put my gun away; we had a drink
I thought of love, but didn’t want to think.

Don’t fall in love with anyone like me
I tend to write my feelings when they come
I try to make them into poetry
You’ll feel my words, unless your heart is numb
My words can last forever on a page
Forever is for love, it’s not for verse
Imagine, when you’re twenty times your age
My feelings are still readable.  Perverse!
It’s true, there’s often beauty when I write
But wait, there’s ugly anger here as well
You needn’t be reminded of our fight
It’s like some constant journey down through Hell!
Go give your love to someone who’s immune
From publishing their feelings when they swoon!

In countless years, will anybody know
How bravely and how fiercely I could write?
Achilles battled Trojans long ago
But didn’t give a damn who came to fight
His talent was the death of other men
He rose beyond Olympus and the gods
His name adorned the stars when now was then
And still his name is given knowing nods
My talent doesn’t make combatants bleed
Although I’ve broken hearts with just my verse
My pen becomes my sword in such a deed
So take my words for better or for worse
In countless years i hope my words are real
And that they’ll go beyond Achilles’ heel.

I want to live a life of love and joy
I used to live without their precious hope
I know I said “I’m just a stupid boy”
But “stupid boy” is just a slippery slope!
Directionless, I often fuck things up
Like sailing through the night without the stars
Like putting tea into a coffee cup
I tend to try to make “my” tempest “ours”
You’re patient when you teach me of the path
And of the way to follow where it leads
I still regret the messy aftermath
Of spilling out my life with my misdeeds
You’ve shown me how to clean, and not to spill
To find the love and joy of life. I will!

She felt so warm; I tried to understand
Her hand was soft; her voice was soft and sweet
So much of my life now has been unplanned
I sat, but didn’t know that we would meet
So warm a girl was beautiful and nice
I wondered if my hand was warm to her
Her daughter made me smile, not once, but twice
I hoped that my intentions weren’t obscure
She felt like more than poetry to me
We shared our pain, we shared compassion too
The moment wasn’t awkward; we were free
I wish I had some wishes that she knew
Warm Stranger, I would love to know you more
You may be what a second chance is for.