Hate

The look he gave was one of such disdain
As if he caught a whiff of open drain
He promised he would never come again
I stripped the sheets from bed where we had lain
He thinks that I’m to blame for his desire
That somehow I ignite eternal fire
That burning in his groin will not expire
But I am just a fan to take it higher
The thing he can’t abide is found within
Discomfort lurks beneath that perfect skin
And what I think is beauty labelled sin
He sees himself as lost for giving in
Compassion is the love that I will show
This hate of self a pain I also know

The Art

When beauty walked into the room I drew
My breath and wondered had he asked for me
As if my language I forgot I knew
I stood before him struck so silently
An artist with my canvasses of lust
So huge in public gallery not hung
But beauty isn’t something art should trust
For surface isn’t where our work is done
Undress the beauty show what lies beneath
And let me draw your breath into my soul
The canvas of your heart has sparked belief
A brush of lips and I have lost control
I stripped my love and now I have to find
The art to capture beauty in the mind

Space

My inner space so when did you appear
Intruder uninvited on my plane
For lonely gripped my fingers in your sphere
Your angle’s not conducive to my aim
A vacuum mother nature does abhor
But I am not your mother little boy
And you plus me’s not what my line is for
So I’ll divide and leave remainder joy
Subtracting you negates the need to cry
The algebra of love’s insanity
My x will never equal, don’t ask why
We shoud not meet until infinity
An integer still single in my prime
What matters is I have my space in time

Words

I stumbled over words and grazed my heart
I thought I saw the truth within a rhyme
But writers can’t trusted for their art
Is just to sweeten cheap and hackneyed line
Comparison to summer’s day is trite
And music often feeds the love we lost
I think that love requires a second sight
And rides that fall are rarely worth the cost
Remember love’s a verb a doing word
It’s not a state that we recover from
A writer’s actions should seen not heard
And love is not three minutes in a song
Unbreak my heart for it is carved in wood
If words are all you have then you’re no good

Nothing More

So beautiful he came and asked my name
And rained his compliments upon my head
He said that we were very much the same
I couldn’t quite believe the things he said
Apparently his family is poor
He wants the chance to someday go to school
He offered me his body nothing more
Request so sordid made me feel a fool
So I declined the business he transacts
He laughed and said I was so fat and old
I can’t imagine life with all he lacks
Or how a man must learn to be so cold
The money men for sale but what a price
You know not what it is you sacrifice