This is inside joke number one. The exboyfriend of one of my closest friends told us about Lance, a man in the United States Navy who has a feminine air about him. (He wants to dress up in a pink sailor uniform.) In my car and my friend's room, we have little green plastic army men, like many boys grew up with, with their uniforms painted pink. They are our personal Lances. With purple helmets. But, that's another inside joke. ;) If you can figure it out from just knowing what I told you, you're more sick-minded than me. And that's getting pretty bad. Don't worry, we have nothing against homosexuals, lesbians, gays, or any others, and Lance is not a real person...... at least, none of us have met him. As far a we know, he's just a figment of Andy's imagination.
Poems
I don't create as many poems as I used to, but every now and then I do get some inspiration. I'll try to give a short discription of what inspired me when I wrote these.
Angels (c 1998)
I was here, but now I'm gone;
I left you memories to help you on.
Those who knew me, knew me well;
All of these people I thought were swell.
I want you to know I loved you so;
And I'll be watching over you when you're feeling low.
I'll be an angel up in heaven;
For eternity, times eleven.
This poem was written for my friend, Brian, when his mother died.
He's My Friend, Too (c 2002)
What's your problem?
We're adults.
We're not in kindergarten.
And we're not in a cult.
He is your friend,
And now mine, too.
But everytime I try to talk of him,
You act like we're in a zoo.
I've stayed faithful.
My friendship is true.
The only thing I can't figure out
Is what's wrong with you.
Is it something I did?
Is it something I said?
Did you take a fall?
And hit your head?
I try to figure you out.
But it's something I can't do.
Why can't you realise
That he's my friend, too?
This was written shortly after Bob and I became good friends. Lisa started acting really weird like she was jealous or something, but she had nothing to be jealous of. She had a boyfriend, and her relationship with Bob isn't like that. In any case, my relationship with Bob was short-lived and now we're just friends, which is fine with me 'cause I have a wonderful boyfriend now, whom I love. So everything worked out fine. ☺
The following is a poem I wrote for Ryan. It's pretty "heated" and doesn't even begin to let loose my feeling towards Ryan. I still haven't found the right words for that...
For Ryan, who holds my heart and inspires me
The room is calm, but not silent.
A cricket chirps from the corner.
A cat mews from the hall.
Movement from upstairs brings a laugh, a smile, a look.
We talk, we kiss, we sigh.
I sometimes lay there, listening to your heartbeat and breathing.
The rhythms make me content.
I enjoy the time we spend together so much.
You hold me in your arms, and for a while it seems to me that everything is perfect.
Your warmth mingles with mine.
The closeness brings moisture in many places.
Caresses are exchanged as our breathing changes pace.
The troubles of the day are forgotten as our eyes adjust to see only each other.
The crickets are gone.
The cat is silent.
The upstairs no longer exists.
All that is present is you and I.
The rest of the world disappears as I feel your hands on my body.
All I know now is you.
Our legs are intertwined, our arms wrapped around one another.
We cannot get close enough.
Clothes are discarded to the end of the bed.
The feel of skin on skin excites us even more.
Our breathing becomes shallow, our hands more frantic.
The rest of your room has now disappeared.
There is nothing beyond your bed.
You and I, that is all there is.
Our only desires are each other.
My hands run across your chest as yours travel down my back.
Curves, corners, shapes are memorized.
Your eyes shine into mine.
I trace my finger around your ear.
Kisses are shared.
Smiles are exchanged.
Happiness is all we feel.
All is perfect inside your room.
