Archive for October, 2013

Villanelle for my sweet desire

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 16, 2013 by themanwiththecowboyboots


If not, then what? I have forever searched

for love, I’ve looked inside and looked again,

but I have found not one thing to be spared


I look back on so many beds I’ve shared

with maidens, but my heart loveless remains.

If not then, when? I have forever searched


for beauty and for grace, and I’ve observed

that if by grace of God I do attain

that goal I’ll find not one thing to be spared.


If Earth and sunshine have for me reserved

a destined bride, then I proudly abstain.

It’s not for that that I’ve forever searched.


I have in mind a few words to be heard,

but not words that by magic be obtained.

Of those I have not one thing to be spared


So go on son speak of a bard who’s scared,

of his own poetry and go on painter paint.

For, God my witness, I’ve forever searched,

but I have found not one thing I deserved.


In a poetry meet up

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 13, 2013 by themanwiththecowboyboots

Here’s what I wrote:


I tried to break the social norms I tried

I tried but they wouldn’t let me they said

That I am here and they said

That I should be like so

And they thought

That they were saving me

But I

Have let my brothers down


I tried to be myself

I tried

I tried so hard but they simply wouldn’t have it

They said here’s a photo of you

Twenty years from now

Now be that person

I thought

Maybe I want to be myself

And they heard me think and made me say

That I will not


They claimed

That theirs is the way

That before them there were idiots

And we won’t be the same

And that life led up to that one moment

And beyond it there’s no change

They thought

That there is no change

They said

There won’t be change

And they’d be right

But I tried

I swear I tried

And they wouldn’t let me


They said that my name is disgrace

They said that to my face

And ever since I was a child of the Earth they made me a child of my race

Their race

And they said to change would be a sin

And that life is a book that only they have read


And they said that on my fingertips are stories only they can read

They said that only they could read

And I couldn’t say otherwise

Because I was illiterate

But I tried

Oh I swear I tried

To tell them they were wrong

I tried

To break their hold

I tried so hard but they refused

They refused and they wouldn’t let me


And everyday the sun would rise

And they thought that they made it so

And they could hear its gears and they

Could make it shine

And they

Of all the people could see it glow

And they were right and I was wrong

And the whole world was wrong

And I tried to tell them, to convey

That maybe there are two truths or three

And I tried to show them that maybe we were all wrong

And I tried to tell them that the truth was as malleable as pure gold

And that maybe there was more to their life than they had previously thought

I tried

Oh I swear I tried

But they wouldn’t listen

They wouldn’t

Have it


They refused


And they would say that I am young

And that I will never age

And that humans had the knowledge and that

I am not human

And that

I cannot know because others


And that life is ancient

And that

Greater men have lived


But I would say and I would try to say they might be wrong

And I did

And I tried to talk

I tried to speak

But they wouldn’t let me


Were louder


Had sharper pens

And they

Had sharper thoughts

And they

Had sharper minds

I tried


I tried to break the social norms

I tried

I tried so hard it broke my spirit

And still they wouldn’t let me

I tried to be different but I guess now

I am just the same


Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on October 7, 2013 by themanwiththecowboyboots

Technically this isn’t a villanelle:

Some people cannot feel.
I have never loved her.
Sometimes it’s unreal.

Impassioned, filled with zeal,
I come close to her and whisper
That I have never loved her.

Disgust is very clear
On her face; it’s softer.
Sometimes it’s unreal.

It’s harder to conceal
On this day than ever
That I have never loved her.

Her freckled face is near,
Her warmness and her shiver.
Sometimes it’s unreal.

She sheds a lonesome tear,
And I almost whimper.
I have never loved her,
Sometimes that’s not real.


My First Vilanelle

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on October 6, 2013 by themanwiththecowboyboots

I have loved and lust-
ed for so many; but never
will I ever trust.

My conviction is strong; it’s just
that smile, that forever
I have loved, and lust

are too tempting; her smile is so robust.
I wonder if I tell ‘er something clever
Will I have ‘er trust?

I must find her love I must
Show my heart; I must have ‘er;
I have loved. And lust

Won’t stop me now. It crossed
My mind that she won’t love me however
well I have her trust.

The ashes of her love today are dust.
The syrup of disgust is in my liver.
I have loved and lost;
Will I ever trust?

The problem of meaning

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on October 2, 2013 by themanwiththecowboyboots

I’ve been too busy to write let alone post.

I am sorry; here’s a poem:


I see her face in every darkened, every passing,

Silhouette with long hair

She dances

ever slightly in my mind

Like no one dares

and it might

be the whiskey talking

but I could swear oh i could swear

she is like no one ever

she is far beyond compare


And even though I’m a hor-

rible person even though I lie

with many women

Even though it’s very true

I fall in love with every girl with braided hair who looks my way

Even though I’m dumb

But she is different; she never

Leaves my mind

She is omni-

present all the time; she is not the same


It is her that I think of when I scream

another girl’s name

And I could swear oh I could swear

That in the Hall of angels and saints and perfect beings she is right there

and I might be drunk but I’d never

Mistake love for thin air


I have never

been so infatuated

never have I succumbed to helplessness

I have never let a girl see me to my knees

But she is not the same

I would not dare

to even think to declare

my love for anyone

But I do not care

It might be scary

But I think….


I really like her



every power has its fault

and every alley

every street to my heart is filled with bumps

and her eyes

though ever glowing sometimes fade

and her nose

sometimes feels too large for her face

and her breasts

though somewhat perky sometimes sag

and in her hair

is more disorder than there’s flair


When near her I feel lonesome

When with her I’m alone

Her actions seem lethargic, her sentences withdrawn

she has no outward sparkle that contests with what I love

and that and every other fault’s evident when she smiles

because I’d know that soon enough her heart would become mine

and so in every aspect faults become present

she ceases to be

the girl of whom I dream

and like my other conquests she gains that cursed label


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