Monday, April 28, 2003
Laur @ 9:42 PM
listening to Bright Eyes
Do you feel bad when the poetry is not about you?
Don't be sad, please, I'm thinking it through.
Take my hand in the rain,
Dance with me this time.
Search my eyes for the pain,
Accept that you're mine.
I'm so happy it hurts
Dance with me
I'm so happy it hurts
Dance with me
Am I too shy to make slight sense?
I can try to talk well with your friends.
Lay my head in your lap,
Reassure me my ease.
After my short nap,
I shall continue my tease.
I'm so eager to please
Dance with me
I'm too eager to please
Dance with me
Once you touch me there there's no going back,
You've got to beware to keep on the safe track.
Let me touch you,
Not just your heart.
Tell me to
Do more than just start.
I'm happy
So eager
Let me please
Do a little more
Than just dance
With me
I'm happy
Too eager
I beg you to please
Do a little more
Than just dance
With me
Laur @ 9:31 PM
listening to Bright Eyes
i hold my hand when you're not there
and i slap myself when i tell my imagination to beware
time passes overnight and we mature by day
everyone else says it's too soon to say
but your touch tells me otherwise
and your smile is not a disguise
so we continue to live life as we please
as i follow you on from sea to shining sea
Laur @ 9:27 PM
listening to Bright Eyes
every once in a while you do that thing
where you look at me with a soft look in your eyes.
i could drown in that look,
it's the bean bag chair i've wanted since i was four,
and the comfort of a bed after i've been sleeping in a tent for three days.
i look back and my eyes tear up,
ready for a good grateful cry
cuddled in the depths
of your soft blankety eyes.
my smile hurts in happiness
though it doesn't stretch far,
and it's the most genuine sign of happiness
you'll ever see in me.
Laur @ 9:18 PM
listening to Bright Eyes
Talk to me, just write it all down,
perfectly poetic like the poet you are;
spinning circles in long skirts never knowing how sexy,
truly arousing,
how erotic,
you are.
Give it up, sing it out,
use that beautiful voice that would shame a nightingale,
to weep for,
like Shakespeare would have said;
running fragile, so fast,
down the hall like no one is there.
Lay it down, dance around,
perform for me the sweet serenade of your pleasure,
your pleasure in pleasing me;
swing your hips, press up close,
breathe right in my face;
go tell it on the mountain, but please,
make haste.
Cry as we kiss,
sweet love to forget and move on,
I will stop when you say but
I don't think you will;
your feeling bad is making me feel so good,
I cannot say where my common sense has gone.
It's over long after it's finished,
you won't tell me what's wrong like
a young kid stubbornly refusing to give up
a tug-of-war or
his ice cream for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Encore, encore,
give me more, give me more,
keep giving until it hurts and you break and you say what's at stake and you tell me
finally
what is eating away at you to make your skin turn pale
Laur @ 9:06 PM
listening to Bright Eyes
"Where's your sense of adventure?"
The words left your mouth,
I was intimidated,
I suddenly felt very young and immature.
"Take my hand, stop your stammering, let's go!"
How could I resist
Your words so persistent?
You wanted to be gone and
You wouldn't leave me behind.
Now as I stand by your car
Drenched like naked in the pouring rain,
I know I made the right decision, because
You're holding my hand.
Sunday, April 27, 2003
Laur @ 8:46 PM
listening to "linger" by the cranberries
it was one of those evenings
(or was it night?)
when all the world was outside our cabin,
and that's where we left it.
all that existed was
the music in our heads,
and the dancing
we performed
for the insects on the wall that
i was too busy grooving
to be afraid of.
Laur @ 7:54 PM
listening to"don't turn around" by ace of base
i thought i would be beautiful today,
as a special surprise for you.
but now i know
what they mean when
they say,
"all dolled up and no place
to go."
what good is this dress, short
as it may be, and
tight,
purple, with
sparkles?
all i can give you is
this mental image of
me as i swing my
hips
back and forth in something
shorter
than most have seen me wear that
is tight enough for
my cleavage to
be cleavage, and
dancing
to music i
miss
like good books.
Thursday, April 24, 2003
Laur @ 8:04 PM
listening to "A Song to Pass the Time" by Bright Eyes
stars ought to be green,
it would only make sense to
wish upon something that
is the color of what i feel.
stars ought to be green,
because logic states that
the color would match my
motivation for wishing at all.
stars ought to be green,
who painted them yellow?
a smile is yellow, not
an envious gaze,
a fixed expression,
of undercover glaring at
someone who has
what you want.
Thursday, April 17, 2003
Laur @ 5:33 PM
listening to "El Scorcho" by Weezer
Some people are just too good, though it
Doesn't take much to be better than me.
I wave at you.
You wave back;
Wave me away.
Tuesday, April 15, 2003
Laur @ 11:05 AM
listening to "Can't Stop" by The Red Hot Chili Peppers
you don't like the same music,
but you know you're soulmates anyway.
it's nice to have a best friend,
even when
she never hesitates to tell you
that your
taste in music
is not something you should
be proud of.
you are glad for her presence,
the comfort it brings,
in all her snide remarks
when you crank up
the Zeppelin and
start to sing along.
rituals of constance are
what let you stay
familiar
with the life you are desperately
trying to save,
and so when she
spends the night,
you will always remember
to turn on the radio.
Laur @ 10:58 AM
listening to "Can't Stop" by The Red Hot Chili Peppers
she's walking down the hall again,
listening to the music in her head.
every now and then
she makes a pit stop to
the water fountain.
but other than that,
she's walking.
no,
she's gliding.
no,
she's floating.
if you go over and join her
she would be floating,
flying.
Laur @ 10:55 AM
listening to "Zepher Song" by The Red Hot Chili Peppers
Hold my hand, dearest,
Whatever you do don't let go.
I fear I may be falling now,
And I'd to take you down with me.
But I may just have to be selfish.
Sunday, April 13, 2003
Laur @ 9:37 PM
listening to "Long Way Down" by the Goo Goo Dolls
For me, who,
On this night of delayed homework,
Is sacrificing studies for you.
I've missed you all day, and
I'm ready now.
So talk to me, and
Let's make up for lost time.
Laur @ 9:34 PM
listening to "On a High" by Duncan Sheik
Anticipating your phone call:
On the bed,
Standing,
Moving around.
Music is playing,
The words are sung,
By me and the singer.
Hairbrush microphone,
Teddy Bear for an audience,
Taking a bow.
The phone is ringing.
Leap off the bed.
Encore when I say "Hello."
Tuesday, April 08, 2003
Laur @ 7:03 PM
listening to "Ain't No Sunshine" by Bill Withers
I miss you.
I didn't miss you as much before, but
Now you're the one who left, and
You left forever.
They say that when a ghost is in the room,
You can feel its presence by the sudden cold.
My algebra is sitting on the table,
A sharpened yellow pencil by its side.
I have not written a word,
Not a number,
Not even my name.
Instead,
I'm shivering.
Laur @ 6:56 PM
listening to "swing swing" by the all-american rejects
familiar nagging,
familiar flattery,
ritual of saying no.
you like what you can't have.
i'll give you my lucky penny,
here,
take it,
and just please
leave me alone.
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