Four Scores and (Eighty-) seven Whores Ago…

Cycling through all the memories I hold,
attempting to craft up a new ending,
I realize I have chapters left untold
to the stinging king–character: a fling.

Ooo, baby! Did you just hear that one ring?
Come on down off your bed-swaying high horse.
Hear my words, feel their essence, let it sting.
Of course, you digress to endorse your “source.”

And no remorse, for my truth you ignore,
or for my emotions you influence.
What does that make me? Lax foyer decor?
Unify like a stagnant confluence.

Once so innocent, you left me in ruins…
a thriving civilization no more.
Merciless and widespread executions,
right before you gently walk out the door

When do I accept something literally
instead of taking it figuratively?

And when will the delusion of you
fade back to the Blue?

Sorrowful Ignominy 

Young lad, are you ready to go there?
To come here?

You are Venus in the night sky–
a sparkling jewel.
Yes, quite the sight to see!
But Sir,
I am the Moon.

I dance circles. I grow. I shrink.
All observe this, but I…
For I am a cold, cold rock
on the outskirts of Earth.
Violently banished in an earlier chapter.

My tears get lost into the solar system.
Your dazzling show mesmerizes,
especially me.

Still, some courageous souls have visited me.
Explored me.
Inhabited me?

You are lifeless, the closer we get.
Elusive in form…
Unfit for life, damnit!

And here I am:
frigid, hard, and lonely
…yet possibly worthwhile.

Rudolph Douglas

Of all the places to be in the land
My arms is where I want to cradle you
Oh what I would give to just kiss your hand
Years of my life, I would give up a few

Sometimes I end my day with a deep coo
These sorrowful tears seem to everlast
Sunrise comes and I beam upon the dew
Here is the hint that our gap is so vast

Having you in sight; my heart, it beats fast
Your heart-stirring beauty is all I need
My love is stronger than any ship’s mast
So please hear me out on my closing plea:

Let us forever fly up and above
Into this impetuous thing called love

To Beg Like a Kid in a Candy Shop


To be the lover of he who should not be talked of
for others may break the flower pot
and let all beauty fall upon the cold concrete and carry the need to be thrown away.

How it bubbles inside the wanted lover to boil up and over for others to see,
for him to see,
but sometimes one must keep a resolution from themselves until concluded
so the happiness is higher than how it would have been if it was planned.

Aight. Aight, Mate.

Yes, it’s true that he was indecisive.
The pulling force from the opposite end,
Made our relationship do a little bend.

I hate to think of all the other possibilities.
Why does it have to be so confusing?
Which one of you guys thinks it’s amusing?

Perhaps I will have another chance…
Sometimes I wish I had the power to read minds,
His face would be very interesting to look behind.

This all still agitates me so much,
It seems to be always my fault;
Then I ponder as I halt:

‘I was not the one to lie continuously;
It was him that always did the deceiving.
My job was to find a way to do the relieving.’

This won’t make my bad thoughts go away.
His words in my memory are just little captions;
What really hurts me are his actions.

One day all this mess will be cleaned up.
He will suffer as how I did,
But boy, I still love that kid.