A Haiku and Feature

I've got a haiku for ya.

you know what? men suck, that's what,
and the moment you
think they don't, they surprise you.

Almost wrote that in a deviation, but I thought it wasn't necessarily deviation-worthy.  Just a little blurp.

Anyhow, how's everyone ELSE doing?  Funky dory, correct?  Awesome.

Here's a feature for you just for the heck of it....and since I love ya.

Like always.

caramelizedlies are honey
from sugary tongue;
yours are toffee
melting my lips.
if love
isn't comfort food
like beef stew
or broth,
i don't think
i shall need
anything
from you
from now on.
go home, sweet boy,
don't sleep over.
i can cook for me.
© 05.August.2012 Letter from a Loved OneDarling,
do you remember
     who you were?
Or has your heart
          frosted over-
     all despair and anger-
so far gone that your light
has all but
                    crumbled?
You were brilliant once, love.
Your radiance sang
like a Mayflower
     and your dreams
     blazed a wild beauty
     into your eyes.
Well, maybe it was my fault
for letting you believe
you would be the one
     to bring the world
     to its knees
But you would never stop
racing yourself to the sky-
     you danced with danger
     and you were shining so brightly
          the stars co :thumb320694241: :thumb321408481: :thumb276857676::thumb322974164::thumb321814284: grandfatherold green shirt
inside leather jacket.
faded pants
over a pair of sneakers.
bonnet
above favorite shades.
brown wallet
chained to his pocket.
to this day,
i still keep
his silver watch
and ash tray.
i remember
his upset eyes
because i used
his bicycle once.
i remember
the disappointment
in later years
for i failed to live up
to expectations.
forgive me,
i'd rather
put together
memories this way:
he was a
cigarette-puffing,
wood-chopping,
banca-riding,
harmonica-playing,
transistor-listening,
flower-planting
bloke.
he lit firecrackers
with his mouth
through cigars.
he would pick
meat anytime
over fish,
over veggies.
he liked pomade,
he liked hair gel more.
he'd be happy to know
everything's high-tech now:
he would have marveled
at cellphones,
LCD TVs, i-pods,
laptops and
digicams.
he and i knew enough of deprivation:
it stared us both in the face,
it was the background of our life.
his generosity in my childhood
eased mine.
do i make more of him
in this poem?
if this were
a decent poem IsolationismI find it easier
To feel good about myself
When others are not present
Am I much different?
No.
It's not my fault you don't agree
You've got this notion of me
That simply isn't true
There are only
so many times I can
fake a smile and laugh
My cache is running low
So please
Hold your tongue
when it really matters
Keep your visits and your phone calls
I don't want to hear your voice
I want to remember when I was young
And you were perfect
When I was innocent and hopeful
And you were always just...there
Disillusionment seems to always lead to isolationism
It's just so much easier:thumb321040050: Letter from a Loved OneDarling,
do you remember
     who you were?
Or has your heart
          frosted over-
     all despair and anger-
so far gone that your light
has all but
                    crumbled?
You were brilliant once, love.
Your radiance sang
like a Mayflower
     and your dreams
     blazed a wild beauty
     into your eyes.
Well, maybe it was my fault
for letting you believe
you would be the one
     to bring the world
     to its knees
But you would never stop
racing yourself to the sky-
     you danced with danger
     and you were shining so brightly
          the stars co