LITERATURE

STRANGE LOVE

February 13 2013
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By Wes Young
LOVE POEMS FOR THE UNCONVENTIONAL COUPLE
04iheartpoo

I Carry Your Heart With Me,
And Mine is in Your Middle Drawer

How beautiful a feeling
that your love does bring
upon waking from a night’s slumber
and I stare into your eyes colored burnt umber.
Who would’ve knew
that as I assembled you
I’d have a new sexy mate,
my dear Ikea Bedside Storage Crate.
I get shivers down my spine
from caressing your mahogany.
And kissing you is nothing but divine.
I don’t even mind the splinters, hunny.
Although we haven’t figured out the sex thing
I loyally follow you like a queen to your king.
One day we’ll have stools and chairs I bet
and have ourselves a full set.

The Rhyme of the Ancient Undertaker

It’s lonely working graveyard night shifts.
No one to talk to but a bunch of stiffs.
So when I quite literally stumbled
into your freshly dug bed,
destiny graced me
with my sleeping beauty.
We had graveyard picnics that were sweet,
even though you started off as a tease.
It’s not so morbid to eat
where souls rest in peace.
I don’t mind that your hands are cold
or the maggots or the smell of mold.
Going to meet your parents, we knocked on their door
and your dad dropped to the floor.
I’d die for you a thousand times a day
but then neither of us would be a capable driver.
I’ll hold you ‘til time slips away
and love you ‘til hell freezes over.

The Goat Not Taken

All those who say a man’s best friend is dog
hasn’t had a barnyard companion like my hog.
We quickly became lovers
and still today that love endures.
Oh, the nights we used to roll in the slop
and eat gruel from troughs piled to the top.
Now we eat turkey bacon
while watching Charlotte’s Web.
Who needs the farmer’s daughter, that slut.
I have his pig with the fat pink butt.
Good thing there’s no neighbors for miles
so they’re not awoken by our oinks and squeals.

Stroking my Wood on a Snowy Evening
(Outside your house)

Watching you from the shadows,
my love for you grows.
I wait for a moment more prime,
so you don’t run like last time.
I’d really step in front of a bus for your pleasure,
because to the happiness, the pain would not measure.
I see as I search through your trash before you wake,
that you haven’t eaten the erotic cakes that I baked.
I love that pretend look of fear
when you see me behind you in the mirror.
Sorry to hear about your ex’s murder.
And why do you keep changing your number?
Things will be better
when we’re together forever.

Still I Rise
(When I Look in the Mirror)

Now I’ll try to say in so many words
that which words can never come close to saying.
"ere’s a second meaning to singles’ awareness day,
loving thyself is forgot by many.
I love that I’m compassionate, good looking, and witty.
Mentally, physically, and eternally I am consumed in my vanity.
You see asexuals don’t get lonely.
All I need is me.
Although it’s not so hard to cheat on myself.
Often Me & Myself becomes Me, Myself, & I.
And when people tell me to go fuck myself,
I usually do.
Last Updated on Wednesday, 13 February 2013 03:53
 

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