I can't seem to sleep

Hot and Heavy breathing

passionate kissing

The world is looking for us

but quickly finds us missing...

The Object of My Affections

The object of my affections never sits
farther away than 10 feet.
My tin feet ring hollow on the floor
so sit as still as stale air.
My angel's hair is dark and curly.
I imagine she likes lilacs
and would smell good with them
in her hair.
Here sitting there
is frustrating
because I am impotent in my indecision
to tell her
that she is the object of my affections.
She looks like chastity
but her eyes say otherwise.
I know she's been around the
block a few times more than I.
I fantasize that her sitting still
is her feeling the same way about me,
but I know that's not true
because she never looks my way.
Every day I try to see her eyes,
as warm and soft and brown as they are
and though i see her smiling,
It's not at me, it's through me,
and I know that she has her eyes on
another.

Untitled (for now)

After the anger has passed
And there is only confusion
Only the questions remain
Like, how could she choose him
Over me?
I swear I gave her
Everything I had
And he only gave a little
Still...she broke my heart
Into itty bitty pieces.
Fragments of dreams
Held together by hopes.
Hopes... shattered
When I read the letter
She left on the nightstand
That ended with goodbye,
That ended with farewell,
That ended in so long.
But now the anger has passed
And there is only confusion.
Only the questions remain
Like why on earth did you choose him
And why didn't you have the heart to tell me
Face-to-face

That we could never be
I deserve that much
Not that soliloquy
On pad and pen
You coward.
If you love him then you love him
And we will never be, us, again
But then, if this is true
We never were.

Last Night

Last night
I fell apart,
broken, shattered
scattered pieces on the floor
and no one was there
to put me together
again.

I'm back...I guess. No I'm not.

Remember those Muzzy commercials? Where they had that horrid little green thing trying to teach children foreign languages? Like, if you could spell socks you could ask for something in Spanish. Es-oh-se, que es?
It popped into my head randomly. A lot of things have popped into my head randomly today. Basketballs is one, but that's not really so random. Honeybee knows about that one. It was her fault.

In the Middle of the Night

In the middle of the night
Under broken moonbeams
when I start in on my broken dreams
I dream of sugarplums.
Naw, damn sugarplums
I dream of broken bums
With bent backs
Begging for change.
Yeah we can all use change.
Change is good
Change comes in time
Time waits for no man
Or woman.
Time heals all wounds
And this too shall pass
These bent back broken bums
Shall pass
Over streets with broken glass
And piss,
Looking like gold runneth over
These streets
Mirages only camouflage the pain
Until the rain washes away the exterior.
And you can tell God
To kiss my posterior
Because it ain’t never gonna get any better
Before it gets worse
And even in the middle of the storm
I know it’s gonna get worse
And even on sunshiny days
With cumulus clouds
I know it’s gonna get worse.
The storm’s coming
It’s gonna rain on your head
But when you run outside on the concrete to watch it
Wash everything away
Just avoid the broken glass and piss
And come inside before you give up
And become another bent and broken bum
Who dreams under the comfort and the care
Of broken moonbeams.

The Champagne Room

     I feel like…I haven’t been on a date in quite some time. The fact that I can’t exactly remember when it was tells me that it’s been an extremely long time. That’s sad. Let me think. I vaguely recall escorting a young lady to see the Spongebob Squarepants movie when it came out, umm, last year was it?
     Umm, a 2nd reading of that first paragraph tells me that I need to clarify that statement. I went out with a woman of legal age to see the Spongebob Squarepants movie. I don’t want to be facing confirmation hearings somewhere down the line and wind up in the Spanish Inquisition:

Senator: Isn’t it true that you like young women?
Me: Of course not.
Senator: Is it or is it not a fact that you went to the theaters to see Spongebob Squarepants movie?
Me: I can explain that…
Senator: Did you or did you not?
Me: Sigh. I did.
Senator: Did you go alone?
Me: I did not. But.
Senator: SO YOU DID GO WITH AN UNDERAGE GIRL? YOU ARE A PERVERT!
Me: NOOOO!
Senator: Take this nasty nigga away.

Yeah it just wouldn’t go too well.
     Anyway, my lack of a social life makes me wonder. I’m reasonably attractive, fairly charming, slightly awkward but still, overall I’m kewl. See how I spelled that? That means I’m really cool. It’s just that it’s an understated sense of cool. Doesn’t necessarily stand out in the midst of a crowd.
     So why don’t I date? I dunno. I do stay busy. I mean, I’m at the tail end of a 50 hour work week right now, and I have finals coming up in less than 72 hours. And yet, I feel like there are people with similar schedules. What is it that people do anyway? I can’t dance, so no…..no clubs. Unless it’s Lulu’s. But then, I only go there for the drinks, and I can get drunk in my room. Probably not as cheaply though.
     Movies? It’s become cliché as a date. And besides, I have the urge to go see a movie at random times on random days. I never plan ahead. And I don’t know anyone who clicks with that kind of schedule. Besides, some of the random movies I’ve picked have made me cry, and no, crying is not what women want to see on a first date. Or any date. No matter what Cosmo and Elle would have you believe.
     Umm, hockey games? That could work. Especially now that, uh, there is again a hockey season. Didn’t work too well when there were no hockey games. Now, perhaps. But who would “I” take to a hockey game? Contrary to popular opinion, Ray does not run a brothel. He doesn’t even run a 7-11. He runs Carver Hall, an all male dormitory. This means that the list of available Date-A-Mates grows smaller by the moment. Maybe it’s because I’m boring. I put myself to sleep to be honest. I have about the least interesting life that I know of. Besides, black women by and large are not sitting by their phones waiting for an invite to a hockey game, or dreaming about the practical effects of the NHL rule changes on the pace of the game. Women besides black women? I don’t even know any anymore. Damn sheltered environment.

     What did I learn earlier today, reading Esquire? “Sexy beats cute. Smart trumps sexy. Funny takes the cake.” Where the eff does that leave me? I know where. Cake-less. Having no cake. 2nd year law student and I can’t even find a dinner companion. Back to the books.