Inspired by Robert Lowell

I am observing the social sphere from behind a barrier…
Most people do not even press their heads against mine
On the glass wall.

Incurably enervated and entirely unenthused,
I bury myself in my room.

I wanted them to breathe my love,
But, they still won’t acknowledge I have a heart.

I am a foreign creature, freshly released into
The world of sycophants

Sure, I shattered to bits.

But, her I am, Humanity, alive and free.
Purple is my soul, and the moon, well, it bears my breadth.

The dream world and a few select friends saved me when even my sanity abandoned me;
Anad therein lies why I never again will be a beacon of hope in an utterly mendacious world.



Bipolar Romance

It’s red wine nights or an absence of fully blossomed beatitude.

It’s frequent pondering of one day realities and making them come true, me and you.

And, it’s all about the when and why
because I’ll have the how and what down pat.

I will softly and soundly sift through the shit-heads that use me for what is truly, carefully calculated chump change, laughing maniacally along the way.

Blow me, Bitches?!

I promise to sort through the kinks in my life,
projecting nothing nothin short of lovely feelings into your irreproachable, far-reaching, magnificent


They say only make love to one’s wife,

Yet in my opinion, there is much more to living out life and love than sexual exclusivity.

In fact, it is about the heart and heart only.
And, if yours doesn’t race like an iambic amphetamine suburban teenagers once did,

I don’t want you around forever.

To me, and maybe to a few others, monogamy is as limiting as the promises of a beautiful sunrise during my suicidal nineteenth year, during which I was way worse off more frequently than I ever admitted.

Why? Because.

Because it is all too filled with ever so broken, yet not entirely impossible, promises.

At this point, I’d like to confess, that I will always be a mess.

But, I’m fine with them– my crooked dreams
and curiously juxtaposed halo-rings
surrounding imaginary supermassive star solar flares

that are actually me talking about

my future maybe-spouse’s G-spot.

And,  my own Aphrodite, will bow my cock like a cello.
Oh, how our bodies will vibrate harmoniously with laud and vivacity.

Moreover, if you don’t want candle lit lotion massages
And bubble baths after we fuck on the kitchen table,
just tell me.

I can easily run away to another lass with a fat ass in the meadow of blazing hearts that is the land of sweet, sweet love.

Quite frankly, she will be just as wonderful as you in some ways.
But in some respects, you will still be missed.
I guess you can both have bits of my heart.

Furthermore, I dance to Ellie Goulding to work on my strip teases.

I’ve never told any one that secret.

Also, I eat pussy extraordinary well, especially if you rest drugs on your belly as a reward.
But fear not, I won’t rush you.
I’ll just do a line or watch you roll a joint for afterwards.

With Love,
Sean Matthew Smith