For A.A.N (for all those who ever adored)

[atrocious]

I am in love with my lit prof. This is for her. At first I really felt unsure of it. Unsure of it's references. Unsure of it's "appropriateness". I wanted to tear it apart and forget about it, but as of a few hours ago it has been e-mailed to her.

NOTE: I just realized all the intense work I made to indent everything into a cohesive arrangement isn't able to show up on BL. Reading part III may be a bit more confusing than intended

And so it goes.




For A.A.N.

I. THE CONFESSION
II. THE DANCE
III. A CONVERSATION BETWEEN DOGS
IV. THE TRUTH AS TOLD BY GOD
V. EVER AFTER





I. THE CONFESSION

Professor
I must profess
for you
my love
of literature,

When you speak of love as ownership
Irony floats through space as
Two moons spinning in spirals,
On one a man beats his dog
On the other dog beats man.

What is real?
What’s it worth?
Who’s the stranger?
One may ask
But when you walk
Upon
the road
given those two paths
one knows now its best to go
the one that’s been a bit less tread,
and the best of all the authors,
haven’t been the bit best read,
and when you hear ginsberg howl
you know it’s best to listen,
and the best of all the words,
are the ones that ain’t been written.

We like it spellchecked grammarized formalized
with all first letters capitalized,
MLA 4 LOL
We love to see a words ety-
But never stop to make ‘em.
And when we old see those two paths,
We best be choose’n the untaken,

And it all makes sense for a few seconds,


I refuse to be the epic poem
On the yellow page
Discussed one day
In literature class.

You know the poems you read with words you’ve never heard of?
Mostly latin, mirabilis, and they make it sound so perfect.
So let’s lol 2day,
Even if the atm goes awol,
The eta of doa,
Makes my pov seem aok,
i feel so ee cummings


II. THE DANCE

We hear of movements
Imagist surrealist Dadaist
Beatnik and the rest,
But when I hear of people
Like ezra and t.s.
I see people just like them here and now,
Wrapped up in the past,
Where is our movement
Where is our howl
Where is our hamlet
Where is our Einstein
?
I’ve found our movement
I’ve seen our Vietnam on TV
I saw the true love in movies
I saw a man beating his dog
I witnessed the death of Socrates
I saw Adam and Eve cross a street holding hands
I saw the second coming on eBay
slightly worn
I originally sinned
I’ve seen god’s made of delusion forgive people
I’ve seen people owning their god
Master Slave Master Slave
Love may in fact be ownership,
But I hope it isn’t.
I don’t want love to be a blind faith.
I don’t want love to be a whip’s crack
I don’t want love to ever beat the dog
then mourn it.

This is the saga,
The epic
The dream.
The heaven
The gates
We will be the stories the innovators the creators
the subtle beauty,
You find meaning
In becoming meaning
What already is
Is always becoming
life is what you make it worth
so now what’s worth it?


III. A CONVERSATION BETWEEN DOGS

Hey guys I think I’m
What now
Shoot
I think I’m in love with one of my teachers
She hot?
I had that once
Never happen.
I dunno what it is about her
What’s she look like
Probably too good for you
Well she’s like Kirsten Dunst
Oh snap
It’s just, she’s smart
Yeah that’ll do it
I don’t like the smart ones
I do.
Well the stupid ones are easier
Less interesting
But you can treat em however
Yeah dumb and easy are like yin and yang
What are you talking about?
Well it’s just that they go together
Like cherry and pie
The yin yang is about duality and divine balance, dicks
Like the divine balance of easy and dumb
Keep going.
Well I just see some wisdom in her, there’s something I’m looking for
And she’s got it?
Maybe.
Never happen.
Could to
You think?
It could happen, worth a shot.
No it’s not.
Why not?
Well she’s probably got a husband or boyfriend,
I don’t think so.
The good ones never sleep alone
You know what you have to do?
What?
Walk up right behind her
Yeah
You just walk up, real close like
Yeah?
And you just whisper in her ear,
“Listen I know this is a little inappropriate,
but since the day I walked in this door I
haven’t been able to stop fantasizing about
licking that pussy, baby”
Haha yeah do it just like that.
Are you serious?
Listen bro you wanted to know how to do it so I told you.
He’s got a lot of em.
Not the smart ones.
True story.
What the fuck of course I get some smart ones
But you like them better dumb.
Because it’s easier
But this one isn’t some “bitch” she’s one of my teachers,
She’s too reserved and intellectual to just be another “bitch”
Bitch is a bitch.
You can’t love them man.
What?
You can’t love these bitches man.
So what’s the point of life?
Dunno
Love?
Maybe.
What the fuck are you saying?
I’m just saying when you love em
When you love em
They dry you out.
Dry?
Yeah they milk you.
Spin a web and suck your blood.
Julie didn’t do that.
Yeah she did remember that time,
That time she was drunk and told you how she really felt.
She was drunk.
So your saying she didn’t really mean it?
Well sometimes you say fucked up things when you’re drunk.
Fucked up things that you wouldn’t say unless you’re drunk
She was thinking them the whole time.
Well I didn’t exactly think the best of her either, guys.
We know that.
That’s why you can’t love these bitches.
Loves a weakness it’s all about getting in and getting out.
Don’t you like to lay with them for a while? Just hold them and feel their breath
NO.
YOU CANNOT LAY WITH THEM.
Why not?
They fall in love that way
If they fall in love it’s over.
I don’t care I want to share those beautiful moments.
You sound like a fifteen year old girl
Maybe twelve
Shut the fuck up
Haha look at this
He’s already in it.
In what?
Just in it man.
Love?
Maybe.
No way.
Why do you want her?
Well there’s just this way she talks about life and meaning
You’re in it man.
Good luck.
This can’t go right from here.
Why not?
How you going to do it?
Well not like he said with the pussy eating in the ear.
It’ll work.
So how?
I wanted to write her a poem.
Cliché
What the hell are you gonna write a poem about?
I don’t know yet.
“The way the moonlight glistens
and the way them stars are listening
Under midnight sky’s you swim in,
As the thighs get in position”
Cliché.
See.
I’d write something original something she’d never forget.
You are so in it.
No, I’m not in it, I just think if I can leave some mark on her,
If you listen to me you’d leave a mark all over her.
I mean to make an impact, let her understand at least how one mind works,
She’s gonna read it and laugh.
I bet she gets it all the time.
No smart hot bitch would ever go for her students.
Life is short. I asked her what her meaning to life was.
And?
Amnesty International
What the fuck is amnesty?
She said she was going to volunteer.
To do what? Amnestitize?
No, they are all about human rights,
So she’s some sort of communist.
Communists are easy.
No it’s not communism dick, it’s action, it gives her meaning,
And I bet you think that’s just great.
It’s beautiful, I wish I could run aw-
We all do.
So you’re in love with some older female commie
Not love, I just like her vibe, she’s on the same groove as me.
Listen man, I’m just gonna tell you again
You can’t love these bitches.
It’s not love yet.
Yet.
He thinks he’s going to do it.
Well I might as well try, am I right? Life is too short.
It is It is
Amen to that.
So do you guys have any useful advice?
When I was in love with one of my professors,
I used to just sit in class and imagine her naked.
Rubbing my thumbs on my fingers, man
Why don’t you find yourself some 17-year-old.
I don’t want one. I want to drink coffee and discuss the meaning to life.
That might happen.
Then you could just lean up and whisper,
I’m not whispering anything in her ears.
It always works.
I don’t want to whisper, I want to scream
I want to write her some sort of epic poem.
You gonna make it rhyme?
Rhyming sounds cheesy.
I love to be above your coven lovin’ oven.
See, cheesy.
I don’t know. Maybe it will rhyme maybe it won’t.
Don’t make it too long,
Average attention span is a minute.
I doubt a love poem will actually fulfill whatever Freud shit you have.
You guys ever read those love poems from long dead poets?
A few maybe
They’re immortal, these words have to be written, thats how people used to do it.
They can be long dead but those feelings will forever be on the paper.
You’re no great poet.
He’s right. Maybe if you got published you’d get in there.
Why should that even matter.
It’s all about the money.
I hope not.
If you had a mill’ion you’d never have this problem
That’s how it was with the last one wasn’t it?
Was it?
Seemed like it to me,
Definitely, she only got with you because you fulfilled that need
The break-daddy’s-rules desire
The minister’s-daughter complex
Olivia Newton and Travolta,
Grease was deeper than that. And Travolta didn’t have money in that movie.
Same thing.
What’s the same thing?
He had style. Who says no to the Fonz?
Well I think I’d say no to the Fonz
I doubt it, not in person,
He’s too cool.
So I need money and I need cool,
And you probably still won’t get it.
But it’s good to dream.



IV. THE TRUTH AS TOLD BY GOD

Since I was with Courtney,
And her best friend died,
I’m afraid of letting,
Too much time go by.
The look in her eyes as she cried let my know
This life is too short for lies, we must grow,
We may live today. Tomorrow can say no.
And I’m afraid of regretting the time that I missed,
The times sat alone when I wish I had kissed,
The times by the phone not knowing if calling
Four times in one night is alright.
Because it’s hard to see what you want
hard to know what you’ll miss
hard to live in the present
hard to find the right gift,
but we must live today,
I heard in a song,
Black red or white,
Right middle or wrong.
Because we got today, but tomorrow ain’t long.



V. EVER AFTER

And back to the road, the one nobody takes,
The one twixt the trees right next to the lake
The one in the dreams that come in pastel
The ones that think, but never do tell
This one’s for them,
This one’s for lust,
This one’s for guilt
This one’s for trust.

This one’s for the homies that are locked up,
This one’s for those who ain’t with us no more,
This one’s for everybody who’s ever adored,
This one’s for paper,
This one’s for myth,
And when I have a son,
Who’s in love with his teacher,
I’ll tell him a poem’s
The best way to reach her
And there’ll be a story I’ll tell him one day,
About all of the ones that have got away,
And then I’ll make my way to this,
The time I wrote and gave her this,
And the anxiety as I debated,
To keep it myself or show her elated,
This one’s for those who never took the leap
When it was only a leap that was needed
This is it.
This is the big one.
It’s right now.
And it’s everything.

 

[New]

So much emotion bleeds through this poem. So much interplay between what's right and what "feels right". This poem reads like your battle on whether or not to send the poem you're writing. It's the mixture of emotion and reason butting heads.

You put a lot of work into this, and it shines through beautifully.

 

[atrocious]

THANK YOU.

What do you think she's gonna say when she get's it? I'm anxious. I don't know if it's wrong to give it to her or not, but I had to do it, like I say in the last lines.

For those who aint with us,
For those locked up.
For those who never took the leap.



also, I'm open to critiques


PS. It made my day your online this early.

 

[New]

Hell, you obviously put a lot of effort into this, it'd be a shame for it to be left unread.

And I believe that the least she would do would be to appreciate the words you wrote on to the page. I don't know her that well(or at all, as a matter of fact), so I can't say with any certainty how she would react.

 

[atrocious]

/fingerscrossed

 

[colicolo]

even if she says nothing, this is a brilliant piece of literary art. (or at least in my book)

truly splendid. best wishes

 

[atrocious]

Thank You! I've never had anything I've written called literary art, and it really means a lot to me. OK. She replied to me. Here it is:

Bryan,

I can't tell you how flattering it is that you took the time to write all that. That was quite a big surprise and it has certainly left a mark. In fact, I'm really impressed by the ingenuity and wit of what you wrote. But I think you know that it would be unprofessional and irresponsible.
I hope you always pursue what brings you happiness and success. And keep writing.

A

I was happy with that. I didn't think anything would actually happen, but I'm glad she appreciated it. That means a lot to me.

I responded:

A,

It just had to be written, ya know. Dedicated to all those who ever found beauty in a teacher.

And I figured, you may as well have a poem for you. I don't know if you ever had one before. I plan on one day having some book of my published poetry, and I consider this one of my greats so far, one of the poems that will always be dear to me (as well as my longest). I actually wasn't going to send it to you, but I figured if I had a 10-page-manifesto written to me I would love to read it. It actually dodged the aspect of being in love, and focused on the feelings and thoughts you get thinking about it.

I didn't want to say "She had blossoming beautiful bioluminescent blonde hair" and be cheesy. It's hard to be original in the world of poetry as well. The whole poem was this arguement between emotion and rational thinking, and I'm glad you liked it (show all your friends! they are bound to get a kick out of it.)

I know it would be irresponsible/unprofessional, but hey, you still have cups of coffee with old mentors now and then. Perhaps one day we can have a lunch. Maybe you can help me write better (not for a grade, but for myself) and maybe I could teach you a thing or two about all the things that fascinate me. I'm a recreational universe-pondering-taoist-buddhist-astronomical-philosopher.


PS. It would have been funny if you sent it back to me correcting grammatical errors, covering it with red pen. I'm glad you liked it. I'm glad you're flattered too, that's what I was hoping for. I fear Nietzsche's Eternal Return, so I figured I'd take the road less travelled with this one.

Hot for Teacher in a 10 page manifesto. And I sent it to you! And you read it! What a nut I am. Oh well, the crazy ones write the best poetry.

With Love and Faith and a Smile,
Bryan

 

[IXinX]

I'm halfway through this.
It's brilliant.

Raw and stream of consciousness.

 

[(Wordy)]

Wow. That, my friend, is courage. And who knows, maybe a dose of craziness thrown in the mix for good measure.

I take my hat off to anyone who can write (and act) as honestly as you have here. And I absolutely love the dialogue (part III). Did you tape and transcribe that or something? It's reads very very natural to me. Major kudos too for all the emotion and energy you were able to cram into this poetic sequence... it's quite an epic, but I was swept along smiling and gasping the whole way.

All in all, for me this is the Words event of 2007.

 

[wastedwalrus]

Stunning and so... so... brave of you. But the poem is just marvelous. It's guaranteed to put a smile on her face.

The topics you choose are brilliant.

 

[atrocious]

It feels so good to have so many good words sent my way! Thank you wordy and walrus.


I'm glad you liked part III wordy, because that was the part I was actually worried about. I didn't know if it was too much or too little or too true or what. It was almost chopped out completely.

I really told my friends I was in love with a teacher and they really did give me advice, some of which I actually wrote down when I realized it belonged in the poem. The part in quotations about "wanting to lick your pussy since the first day I walked in here" was a direct quote from a friend.

This is an experiment for me. It's half finding my own voice and it's half about taking risks. I feel fulfilled.


All of your compliments and comments are really great guys.

Take the Leap,
B.

 

[wastedwalrus]

Let me just say that, as a guy who is often too shy to pursue a girl, your situation is very inspiring. If he can do it, we all should! Rock on man and best of luck.

 

[Benefit]

Very impressive (and I think most poetry is crap). Part III's the best. You've got talent.

Is she hot in a nerdy way? Maybe you should write a poem about cumming on her glasses.