Alfred Tennyson

“Gone - flitted away, Taken the stars from the night and the sun From the day! Gone, and a cloud in my heart.”

Facebook Thoughts From The Past

31 October 2012 at 01:09




In half sleep, in partial hold of sandman's lure; I wrote a poem, a strong poem, an unusual one. But you know it was a lure, for he took it away, and now I'm awake, I cannot remember this masterpiece. PS: he also sends me ants when I don't sleep. Red ones at that.

this too

"Not everything is supposed to become something beautiful and long-lasting. Sometimes people come into your life to show you what is right and what is wrong, to show you who you can be, to teach you to love yourself, to make you feel better for a little while, or to just be someone to walk with at night and spill your life to. Not everyone is going to stay forever, and we still have to keep on going and thank them for what they’ve given us." —Emery Allen

too many feels

"The first time he calls you holy,
you laugh it back so hard your sides hurt.
The second time,
you moan gospel around his fingers
between your teeth.
He has always surprised
you into surprising yourself.
Because he’s an angel hiding his halo
behind his back and
nothing has ever felt so filthy
as plucking the wings from his shoulders—
undressing his softness
one feather at a time.
God, if you’re out there,
if you’re listening,
he fucks like a seraphim,
and there’s no part of scripture
that ever prepared you for his hands.
Hands that map a communion
in the cradle of your hips.
Hands that kiss hymns up your sides.
He confesses how long he’s looked
for a place to worship and,
oh,
you put him on his knees.
When he sinks to the floor and moans
like he can’t help himself,
you wonder if the other angels
fell so sweet.
He says his prayers between your thighs
and you dig your heels into the base of his spine
until he blushes the color of your filthy tongue.
You will ruin him and he will thank you;
he will say please.
No damnation ever looked as cozy as this,
but you fit over his hips like they
were made for you.
You fit, you fit, you fit.
On top of him, you are an ancient god
that only he remembers and he
offers up his skin.
And you take it.
Who knew sacrifice was so profane?
And once you’ve taught him how to hold
your throat in one hand
and your heart in the other,
you will have forgotten every other word,
except his name."
—Profane, by Ashe Vernon

Love

"To love someone means to pursue what is best for them, and sometimes you are not what is best for them, that is a hard lesson to learn and one that I have learned many times. In this life, we will have opportunities to love with full hearts and have our hearts loved back, but sometimes we must experience love with tears in our eyes. It is difficult to let go of someone we cherish, but if it is not good for either of you, then you must let go and love from afar." —T.B. LaBerge

Michael P. McParland

Title: I Hate Everyone (But You)

I hate everyone, but you.
What am I to do?
Everyone here has sold me out.
You're halfway across the continent.
Given time you'll screw me too.

I want to have you close.
To tell you so would be verbose.
I hate everyone else for their demonic countenance.
Pushing hard as if I'm a retard.
Their fakeness makes life so hard.

I hate everyone but you,
and it won't get better soon.
Sometimes you're so cold and distant.
Inside though you're consistent.
I see what you have hidden.
Beauty like the garden of eden.

Just like me you hate these fleas.
Sucking off our lifes blood pity.
I hate everyone but you.
So what are we to do.
Given a chance we'll get past all the fools,
who try to bring us down so cruel.

hi.

so, once again, it has taken way too long to start typing in here.
oh-so-very-long.
how are you?
what is the new kid on the block up to?
jealous?
sad?
worried?
are you here?
have you left?
when will you return?
vroooommm
ok. bye.

hate love

the still of the night
the eagle soars through
and we sync
the city seeps through us
and we sync
and we don't.
i love you most days
and i hate you a lot.
i hate you for all the love
for all the hate
for all the kisses
for all the touches