I’m a writer, I’m romantic, I’m a poet
I’m intelligent, eloquent, and I know it
But if you ladies want a poet, be prepared…
Because there really isn’t anything sexy about being a poet
contrary to popular belief, there is nothing irresistible about being sensitive
nor is there any allure in being attentive
consistent with popular belief, wordplay is attractive
but it falls on the silver tongues of those who sacrifice
the ambience of a bad ass for articulation
For poets are good guys, and we rarely provoke temptation
Our expected company rarely invokes lustful anticipation
We abstain from fun and fornication, we avoid guilty pleasures and evil sensations
We do not hesitate to cry when faced with trials and tribulations
Because a poet embraces the emotion granted upon his creation
And sadly, dudes who cry just aren’t that hot.
I may be a poet, but ladies, be prepared
I don’t have a motorcycle, I don’t drive very fast
I’m not good at sports, in fact, for dodgeball, I was picked last
We’re not tough or cool, we don’t pride ourselves in our nice cars
so don’t come to a poet if you want a hot shot or a superstar
Cause most poets are not.
Ladies, before approaching a poet, whom you may think is attractive, be prepared
Because when it comes to girls, poets are too distracted to be attractive.
We are too caught up in the bronze and golden tint of your skin
Too distracted by the look in your eyes, the way it says, “I’m fun”, like sin
Too entranced by the hair which flows down your spine endlessly like sky
We are too lost in lust as we gaze into the forest of your hazel-green eyes
Too focused on your calves, and your thighs
Too fixated on your waist and your hips, too captivated by the curvature of your lips.
When our eyes are set, upon your shapely silhouette, us poets take deeps breaths, then with every line, in rhyme, we waste too much time describing the divine
We waste too much time imagining the pleasant seconds after a kiss like the finish of a fine wine.
And when your body’s held to mine, it just blows my mind, how the scent of your perfume sends me on a high straight to cloud nine, higher than all three men of sublime combined.
It’s simply alarming how charming and disarming a darling such as yourself can be, so please
Don’t approach poets unprepared. Poets may be poor, out of shape, unsightly, but they don’t care- For they know that with some stanzas and a breath of air, your heart may very well be theirs. So be prepared.
I’m up, i’m down, i’m up i’m down.
Life goes well, then it turns around.
It feels like I’m lost but won’t ever be found
so tell me what’s the purpose of that sound…
Or rather, that phrase…
Call them words if you like, but I know when I hear them my body gets tight.
“I love you.”
What’s that mean?
Sorry for asking it just seems so obscene, to think that this “love” is what may come from dreams.
If it’s a word, then I get it, but soon I’ll forget it.
Or maybe I’ll feel it then lose and regret it.
I’m just wondering, what does “I love you” mean?
Is it really more than the words that you say?
Or are they just words by which girls with the hearts boys play?
These are the questions that confuse me, since the concept is still kind of foggy, you lose me.
I hope I’m not coming off as ignorant or unaware
It’s just, everyone says that “love is in the air.”
But I sure can’t feel it.
Then again, if love is something you have to feel to understand,
it’d be impossible to explain it to this loveless man.