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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

How did I brainwash you, my love, my love,

That you could see past the years?

What tricks did I use, that you found my heart,

Mystical passes of the hand or the smell of my fart?

 

I'm really at an impasse, you know,

Because you refused to let me go,

Without knowing that you had love for me,

And such honesty and trust I just had to agree.

 

So what clever moves or lines, my love, my love,

That captivated such an untamed feral feline?

What other than honesty and talking to your face,

Consideration and bible studies pled my case?

 

I'm really at a loss, you know,

To explain how a love like us could grow,

The world isn't the only one not to understand,

How someone so wonderful could give to me her hand.

Posted

Without the benefit of form

(extruded stanza, tails to snip)

the puzzlement spins on--

 

Who dares to claim a spark and speak?

A spark to strike, to claim the light--

perhaps it's best if unaddressed.

 

Don't tell this to who taught me, who

has taught the conflict caught in 'you',

implying I'm correct--not you.

 

A letter from myself to I;

a poet's like a pious eye.

It sometimes fades; it does not die.

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