You are all the poems I cannot write. You are all the words I dare not speak - not because they would deceive but because they would disappoint. So these words (knowing my perverse reliance on flippancy and sarcasm as shield and sword to repel every honest sentiment) prefer to be stillborn. It is ironic really because with everything else my words run rampant. There is no end to all the thoughtless things I say. But with you - words disdain my tongue and silence shields me from repelling you. Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief and Adjunct Professor for Student Loans First Published in Ariel Chart
When all the months were hot July and I was barely in my teens, I met a sullen girl with a fiery eye that she always directed towards me. Such disdain drove me to distraction; her antipathy struck me as wise. She taught joy brings no satisfaction, and scorn is Love's truest disguise. Miss Disdain grew up and multiplied, and I delighted in each fury's spite. Being aware of all the flaws that I hide, their indifference could only be right. She was the alpha of all cruel passions whose touch made lesser men wince, and in various forms and fashions I have chased Miss Disdain ever since. Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief and Adjunct Professor for Student Loans
I've heard what you say in the name of love and your favorite word is no. I've seen what you do in the name of love because the purple bruises still show. You say you're a man of love but that sounds dangerous to me, so bring me no more love and show me simple courtesy. Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief and Adjunct Professor for Student Loans First published in Ariel Chart
Love takes nothing I don't freely give - so let the poets sleep guilt free. Though they tell shameless lies and unwelcome truths, they can't grow roses on the moon. A poem won't cure cancer or stop a middle-aged man from being a bore. Poetry can't make me see what I would rather ignore. And I choose to ignore a lot: how that look on your face is smug; or how you're the salt of the Earth and I'm the slug. Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief and Adjunct Professor for Student Loans First published in Scarlet Leaf Review
Love dashed out the door with a surprising speed not suspected before. So I pulled on my pants and chased her to the lawn, but Love had turned the corner and she was gone. Love must have had her running shoes on. So I jumped in my car and drove all around, searched the whole town with a trusty bloodhound, but when Love left she covered her track. Now my wife's jewelry is gone, and Love demands bitcoins, or she won't bring it back.
Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief and Adjunct Professor for Student Loans