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W.P.C.

Paul Carter


Last Updated: 11/24/2009

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Gender: Male
Status: Single
Age: 30
Sign: Virgo

City: Old Louisville
State: Kentucky
Country: US
Signup Date: 3/24/2005

Blog Archive
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Saturday, October 31, 2009 
I want my old face back,
the one I wore behind long black hair
when I was 16 and knew everything.

Now my head is shaved and I know nothing.

I want my old face back,
the one that was slick with oil and too cool to smile,
not one crease in that ivory flesh.

Now I smile relentlessly and wear my skin like a New York City subway map.

I want it back!
I want it back!
I want my old face back!
10:18 PM 
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Saturday, October 03, 2009 
I knew what I wanted,
now I know I can't have it.
All my false hopes
have crumbled and gone.
I knew what I wanted,
It was an illusion.
I'm glad that I know,
now I can move on.

My love was an ocean,
alive and mighty.
I was sea bird
crushed in the surf.
An ocean is dangerous,
no matter it's makings.
But I knew what I wanted,
whatever that's worth.

I wanted forever,
your arms around me.
I wanted a kiss
to last 'till we died.
But you on the continent,
playing so sweetly,
when playtime was over,
were easily dried.

1:32 PM 
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Saturday, September 26, 2009 
I hate this pen!
it will not move
without a sign
from you.

You hog my love poems
like a greedy orphan,
commanding them
with any untoward glance.

It is unfair!
This work is daunting,
but the odes belong to you.

My Muse,
my buttercup,
there is distant chattering
down Brook Street.

Peaking out the window,
I strain to discern faint conversation
for inspiration.

I only hear your voice,
I only see your face.

2:19 PM 
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Thursday, September 24, 2009 
Je t'aime ma petite fleur,
renoncule sensible allée avant le gel,
c'est une poésie d'automne.
1:32 AM 
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Tuesday, September 22, 2009 
It is not the geisha melody,
nor distant dripping brook,
nor breeze who gently blows through the willow.

It is not a Laughing child,
nor locust wing,
nor night screech of the great owl

It is a soundless sound.
Find silence.
Listen.

2:00 PM 
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Monday, September 21, 2009 
Quickly,
The traffic proceeds
down brook street.
Distant sirens
drawing closer.

Mirrored
by the morning song
of caged birds
from the bedroom.

Everybody's going somewhere!
I'll join them soon.
Two miles
until my green apron.
Today
I live to serve.
2:37 PM 
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Sunday, September 20, 2009 
At 5 o'clock
I'll walk in the park,
and the drizzle will be my lover.

At 10 past then
I'll see him again,
and again we will love one another.

At a quarter till 6,
where will I be?
Damp at my silly computer.

And he will be gone,
singing a song,
sweetly to some other suitor.
6:01 PM 
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Saturday, September 19, 2009 
A million miles away now.
Locked tight as a priests lips
and ogled over by decapitations.

A ghost in your fathers cellar.
Hiding your you like the star of India.

A thinly veiled heretic 
awaiting discovery and excommunication.

Same old story a thousand times over.
A dime store novel
we've read before.

3:50 PM 
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Tuesday, September 15, 2009 
It was,
I think,
a lot
to kiss
those lips
that broke
my heart.

But I
kissed
that very
kiss,
as that
kissing is
an art.

It was
I think,
too much
you know.
And again
my heart
did shatter.

But for the art,
I'll take the pain.
With me,
that's what's
the matter.

2:57 AM 
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Monday, September 14, 2009 
Observing the orchid
as it gently sways above Quan Yin's head.
Delicate white petals
framing a purple heart.

I too wear a purple heart,
(which I embrace like the orchid.)
A veteran of of our odd love,
injured by a distant kiss.
1:22 AM 
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