Meeting at Night
| by Robert Browning | ||
The gray sea and the long black land; And the yellow half-moon large and low: And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed i’ the slushy sand. Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach; Three fields to cross till a farm appears; A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch And blue spurt of a lighted match, And a voice less loud, through joys and fears, Than the two hearts beating each to each! |
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What I Really Meant To Say
***
I never really wanted you to see,
The screwed up side of me,
That I keep locked inside of me, so deep.
It always seems to get to me.
I never really wanted you to go.
So many things you should have known.
I guess for me there’s just no hope.
I never meant to be so cold.
Emotionless
The older I get, the colder my heart grows.
I’m surprised I can smile with such sorrow.
And inside, I keep it all bottled.
I’m numb to this shit, like my pilot was on auto.
My only alternative to pyro,
Is this rap shit, and that itself is a sideshow.
Truth be told, I’ve been feeling different lately.
Like ‘Fuck money!’, and the dollar is the devil’s baby.
I’m empty inside, like Hollow Man.
I’m here but I’m not, like a hologram.
Barry said “P, you’re selfish as hell!”.
I was like, ‘Stay in place, homey. Watch yourself.’
Now this man could place my life upon a shelf.
And as for P, he has yet to wish me well.
So there it is, I picked my bone.
Toast to C.E.O. Mal, I sip alone.
Skin Care!
New raunch from The Splas