plantains and puntang

i have been suckered back into
what was my self once
long ago
when i felt the speakers
pumping good vibes through my veins
and my body capitulated accordingly

i am still sending out smoke signals
still in love with the night
i thought i had lost
still empowered to take numbers
and send them in single file...
but i won't...
can't go there
not yet when the world is so wicked
and i am trying to be ever so good
and a new one woos me with fried plantains
but the taste of my once love still lingers in the air

and on my tongue
i have officially been wowed into silence
where i wait while my heart beats ever louder than
before
and am sure i have made a mistake
before i ever have made a move

and the mystic in me smiles
and curses my libido back to reality...
really
i can survive with much less.

wicked wanderland

am somewhere searching for a hidden meaning
looking out at the urbanity of my life
wishing only for treetops and clearwater
licking icecream on sunshine staircases
journeys to everywhere and then some...
would like to keep up romance
tho it seems too indefinate a must for right now
and i am helplessly lost in each moment
watching the days fly as they so often do
going on four years to nowhere
in abundance of friends and food
lacking time or enough reason and rest
to make the decisions count for...
myself and mon beau are secretly mistified and lovelost
we keep weeping dryly toward a posthumous relationship
which we will never keep up with and not lose our own selves in
Oh how the dark ones do taunt me
and make me long for sojourn and sobriety
and sugar in this here bowl...
alas i have naught for now
as my love reaches ever farther away
whilst we continue holding on to eachother's fingers...
and sucking on our toes
and heaven only knows what this future me holds
but the tease is in me,
and i haven't yet told it to sit down and shut up.