posted February 23, 2005 05:54 PM         

Is love free? How to be sure?
Can't make a move. Have to endure.

Who is she? I don't know...
She's grooming me to be her beau.

Polly Purgatorio,
I can't imagine what you know.

Pandora or Penelope,
I half-resemble what you see.

Are you playing cat-and-mouse?
Do you want a pet - or spouse?

You seem to know the thing to say;
you tell me, "go", and ask me, "stay".

And, yes, I think you've more to say.

posted February 23, 2005 06:04 PM         

I wish I could lose my habit to take up lost causes and stop trying to guide fallen angels back home ... so much because I have yet to find MY way in this universe.

I found my way to neverland, never knowing I would leave, with more questions than answers, more riddles than similies.

posted February 23, 2005 09:44 PM         

You're going to make the baby Jesus cry.
You don't want to make the baby Jesus cry,
do you, maya?

But seriously, why you buggin'?
Don't you know you are the coolest, sweetest person I have met in a long time, maybe the coolest, sweetest person I ever met?

I am here for you, maya, if you want to talk about anything. You are so amazing, I wish I knew just what you needed to hear. Its so hard to get a sense of your situation. And I feel foolish prescribing the wrong ideas, telling you what you already know.

I am in awe of the breadth of your soul; no wonder you get lost in there. Honestly, I think you're possessed of genius; some kind of psychic brilliance... And I have only my poverty to share.

What can I say, what can I do for you?
If you are lost, tell me what you see.
Read me the name of the nearest sign.

Love,
Steve

posted February 24, 2005 09:09 AM         

They say the cliffs are haunted by a solemn, lonely cry,
and I have seen the doves and gulls dance aching lullabies.
Upon the shattered Autumn winds leap echoed, searing sighs,
and when the moon has glazed her eye from depths slips Loreley.

She combs her hair --- Rhine-gold spun light, sings torn flame siren songs.
The winking gleam of dew-drop lace seeps from her crown of thorns.
her face is Youth wed with crook'd Age, and pain for heart-rent wrongs
she's cast upon poor sailors who for Loreley did long.

From depths she spins eternal cries and Loreley does long.

posted February 24, 2005 05:15 PM         

"Why do I love" You, Sir?
Because—
The Wind does not require the Grass
To answer—Wherefore when He pass
She cannot keep Her place.

Because He knows—and
Do not You—
And We know not—
Enough for Us
The Wisdom it be so—

The Lightning—never asked an Eye
Wherefore it shut—when He was by—
Because He knows it cannot speak—
And reasons not contained—
—Of Talk—
There be—preferred by Daintier Folk—

The Sunrise—Sire—compelleth Me—
Because He's Sunrise—and I see—
Therefore—Then—
I love Thee—

posted February 24, 2005 05:18 PM         

Steve, you are so intuitive, so wise, so humbly glorious. We love you and treasure you as a wonderful member of LL.

posted February 25, 2005 12:51 PM         

That's so sweet!
You flatterer, you.
I don't know what to say.
A tad flustered, I guess.

Gosh, it just makes me happy to think that anything I've said could have roused you from a bad dream or two.
That makes me happier than anything else.

You are way too hard on yourself -
but I know thats just a poor reflection
of your incorruptible standards.
We've got to train that laser-sight of yours to focus on a few more of your infinite charms, maya.
The world needs loons, maya,
and LOTS of them.
We should procreate - lol!

Talk to you soon,
have a killer morning/day,
Love,
Steve

Ps. Hey!! Where's my kiss?

posted February 25, 2005 02:08 PM         

((((((BLUSH)))))))))))