heart_less

Ahhh exs. I love how memory betrays us all. Here a poem. Supposed to be amusing. Enjoy:

"There are Nights, My Dear"


There are nights, my dear...

With knights about in stallion sports cars
Who ride against brick windmills
And joust behind the tavern doors
Breaking glass on crowded dance floors

They wear armor that hangs so easily
From whatever the current label be
Locks of thy hair forever the same
For ladies heart's there is but one mane

Whatever words you sing might be
So wise they only ever speak "I see"
While you spin prose for them to hear
As you wrap favours around their spears

Strength built from sweat and tears
In dungeons filled with treadmills
Hearts made from heroic ballads sung
About great deeds and people done

I am not born of blood like they
To no great conquests am I fey
No banners or lays to my name
To be sung of how sweet they came

All I have are songs of favour lost
My spear for you too high a cost
To knights I sing of how you I miss
They replying "which bitch is this?"

Caring and gentle my faulty banner
Though I never dare to enter a tanner
Fair skin and a walk of gentle grace
Repelling maddens from my embrace

And when my heart is weary from the battle
While to other knights you flock like cattle
I lament that I lost you in the hunt
The knights replying "fuck the cunt!"

Is it my lack of honour that so offends?
So you sing out in poem "lets just be friends"
That I do not so easily break down your walls
Or siege your palisades till your castle falls

Then in me indeed your will find no knight
Tall and proud spoiling for an evening fight
Only a coward you will find in this fable
Who would gladly be a man were he able

My humble feet cannot carry your gentle frame
As a foreign steel chariot would; Alas my shame!
That I am no errant fellow for you to miss
And of all my failings my dis-chivalry is this:

Too foolish am I to be cool and cruel in way
Keeping your wild heart so carefully at bay
This sword of war I am too weak to wield
Were I the ignorant brute to break your shield!

Of such times of war I have not been bred
For gentler times this heart was made instead
And the weak metals of which it was caste
Cannot in the hot hand of love ever hope to last

-May 24, 2005