Love Poems @ MindSay

The dots above us stay steady
as your beauty rises and falls
with my ever going breaths.

I feel the weight of pure beauty
against my chest as a breeze flows
from the nearby water.

The sand is soft, yet unobtrusive,
the temperature is comfortable,
the breeze makes your warmth
more desirable.

Huddling close
on my back,
an angel has graced me.

She looks up from my chest
and smiles.

This must be it.
This must be the feeling I've longed for.

This must be what I've mistaken in the past
for something so opposite.


This is love.

~"Love"
~~Jake Allard

I don't know what to do
on this plane called life.

It appears that the smooth flight
has been interrupted by turbulence.

Will we get through this?
You and I?

I have given the controls to you,
along with the essence of me.

I trust that in your decisions
we will land safely.

"Plane Flight"

I can't imagine there's many of you, but..blah. I've updated my PostPoems portfolio for the first time since forever, with 8 new poems. All about Mena.

Just in case you wanna know what they are, go into my portfolio (I'm not linking, there's already a link in my blog favourites list), find the Mena folder, and you're looking for the following:

1 - Everything
2 - I Want to Give You Smiley Suns, Not Crying Clouds
3 - Lots & Lots & Lots
4 - One Ring
5 - Summer Afternoons in Greenwich
6 - The Kids are Alright, But Let's Slap Them on the Arse Anyway
7 - Trains and Tuxedos
8 - Your Eyes

Hey, just think, if I wrote songs as quickly as I can poems, I'd have an albums worth already. That said, who's to say I can't adapt one of those 8 into a song...:D

Also, as a side note, LStv Episode VI was intentionally delayed this week, for two reasons. One, me and Mena had had a bit of an argument on Sunday evening, thus I didn't feel in the mood for it. Two, on reflection, I wanna do a Christmas episode, and whilst it would've been Episode VII, I wanna try and stick to doing vlogs on Mondays, so I pushed VI back a week. Hope you don't mind :D

Anyways, till next time.
-=Gavvie=-

So I decided that, since I'm not really saying much at the moment, that I would post this old story that I had on my shortlived congo blog. Most of the stuff I had on that blog was whiny and bitchy, mostly about being sick of school. After about 3 posts it got lame and boring and I came back here. But I thought that this one was interesting enough to be reposted, so here it is, along with some smilies that I added at the top for no reason:





When I was in 6th grade, back in the good old days when I wasn't an arrogant, pompous, cynical jackass, my literature teacher made our class write poetry. It was probably the worst experience of all my experiences in school. I sucked at writing poetry, however my parents seemed to think all my poems were pure fucking gold, which will be an important detail for later on in this post.

Anyway, my evil teacher made us write poems. Poems about irrelevant stuff like going to the mall, or what we are going to do when we get home. It was lame. I hated it. We spent two months writing poems. I remember I wrote one about my favorite brand of shoes. I absolutely cannot remember how I managed to get eight lines out of a brand of shoes. As I finished one trainwreck, I was assigned another, and they were all terrible. And of course, when a kid does something terribly and mediocre, their parents will always love it. That's like, scientific law. You can't argue with scientific law.

When we were finally finished with the endless poetry unit, we had one last thing to do: The teacher made us send our poems to this contest, and the winners were going to be published in a book. I decided to send in my magnum opus, a poem about tacos. When the contest was judged, our teacher announced that several of our class's students' poetry were going to be published, and lo and behold, my halfassed poem about mexican food was one of them.

So you know what happens next: My parents going around and telling EVERYONE that I won this contest. It was bad, I wrote a poem about tacos and it was getting published. I thought it was lame, but of course, my parents (And when I say 'my parents' here, I'm mostly talking about my mom) thought it was pure fucking gold.

Ever since, my family has not been able to eat tacos for a meal without harrassment about the poem from my mom and brother. Quoting the poem, saying "TACOS! THE BEST FOOD IN THE WORLD!", everything. It is horrible. A couple of months ago my family went on a skiing trip with my aunt, uncle and cousins. The last night of the trip we had tacos. My mom made copies of the poem for everyone, passed them out, and started to read it. I was fucking pissed.

So, if any aspiring 6th grade English teachers are reading this, take my advice and don't make your students write poems and send them to a contest, for if any of them win, they will be subjected to years of torturous harrassment by their families. Thank you.



Amendments:

1. My teacher wasn't really evil.
2. I bolded that one line.
3. I probably spelled something wrong or made a grammatical error, but I don't give a shit.

 

From Shakespeare's Love's Labour's Lost:

 

	So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not
	To those fresh morning drops upon the rose,
	As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote
	The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows:
	Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright.
	Through the transparent bosom of the deep,
	As doth thy face through tears of mine give light;
	Thou shin’st in every tear that I do weep:
	No drop but as a coach doth carry thee;
	So ridest thou triumphing in my woe.
	Do but behold the tears that swell in me,
	And they thy glory through my grief will show:
	But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep
	My tears for glasses, and still make me weep.
	O queen of queens! how far thou dost excel,
	No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell.