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*Hops on quickest bus to New Mexico*
...maybe you'll learn something. This poem should pretty much get anybody laid on Valentine's Day. Consider it my gift to all of you.
somewhere i have never travelled
-e.e.cummings
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
<font color="#cd6600" size="1">[ February 14, 2005 09:53 AM: Message edited by: -Dark Angel- ]</font>
[img]graemlins/heart.gif[/img]
*Hops on quickest bus to New Mexico*
Nice [img]graemlins/whatever.gif[/img]
*Drinks 4th cup of coffee....
[img]eek.gif[/img] [img]graemlins/gulp.gif[/img] [img]wink.gif[/img]
<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">*loads shotgun*Originally posted by Andyman:
[img]graemlins/heart.gif[/img]
*Hops on quickest bus to New Mexico*
Well... I took your advice and tried it...
The response was:
"A poem? I wanted chocolate and something that vibrates and you give me a lousy poem? You're on your own tonight buddy."
[img]wink.gif[/img]
*reads poem to DA*
will you be my valentine? [img]graemlins/heart.gif[/img]
...why? Yer mom busy this year?
<font color="#cd6600" size="1">[ February 14, 2005 03:29 PM: Message edited by: -Dark Angel- ]</font>
Well, meet me by the river that goes nowhere.
Let me lay my sorry trip on you.
Won't you meet me by the river, little darling'?
I might just let you see my bad tattoo.
Well I was gonna bring you flowers, but I didn't.
It's the thought that counts and I think I'm a bit too broke.
But there's some change in my ashtray--maybe just enough to pay.
For a half pint of somethin', probably make us choke.
Well you know I'd rather not go and meet your family.
They'd probably send me back where I belong.
Don't want to hear about Mr. Right.
'Cause he's out of town tonight.
Baby come and spend some time with Mr. Wrong.
I drive a one-eyed Malibu without a muffler.
And a tape deck that works if you kick it hard enough.
And baby if you like to read, I've got some great pornography.
And a ten pound flashlight rolling in the trunk.
Now, do you have a girlfriend and does she look as good as you?
Would she like to meet my brother?
He'll be out of jail in a month or two.
They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day
From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one
As she stared in my eyes and smiled
For her lips were the colour of the roses
They grew down the river, all bloody and wild
When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped the tears that ran down my face
They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day
On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman I'd seen
I said, 'Do you know where the wild roses grow
So sweet and scarlet and free?'
On the second day he came with a single rose
Said: 'Will you give me your loss and your sorrow?'
I nodded my head, as I laid on the bed
He said, 'If I show you the roses will you follow?'
They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day
On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he stood smiling above me with a rock in his fist
On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
As I kissed her goodbye, I said, 'All beauty must die'
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth
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