Doubtless

When blinding lights set past the hills,
I see more clearly.

Bathed in moonglow, lighted distractions diminish;
leaving only love's pure brilliance.

Touch, smell, taste, sound... all truer senses;
attesting the truth that sight conveyed.

No illusions were staged by her beauty;
affirmed by these sensations.

Knowing now, what I believed I did,
no more, just

Doubtless.

Coworkers

I have to say that coworkers make the work place. My job is amazing for several reasons... but my coworkers take the cake for best reason to work there.
There is one, in particular, who is especially hilarious.
He just created this website: stupidshiz.com.
I have made an account with him, and have made several posts/uploads. Enjoy,
-Rob

Demotivation

I am sure that you are all aware of the wonder that is Despair.com. I have always been a fan. But, they outdid themselves this time.

These are what I've done there thusfar:

-Rob

John Mayer, song for every mood

Have you guys ever noticed that there is always a John Mayer song that could describe your current mood? Do his songs do that for girls too?

Man on the Side:

six numbers, one more to dial
before I'm before you
I tried to call
been busy all night
gave up waiting at daylight

excuse me Mrs. Busybody
could you pencil me in when you can
though we both know that the worst part about it
is I would be free when you wanted me
if you wanted me

I am the man on the side
hoping you'll make up your mind
I am the one who will swallow his pride
life as the man on the side

one of the many
one of the few
to stand back and wait for you

excuse me Mrs. Busybody
could you pencil me in when you can
though we both know that the worst part about it
is I would be free when you wanted me
if you wanted me, if you wanted me

I am the man on the side
hoping you'll make up your mind
I am the one who will swallow his pride
Life as the man on the side
Life as the man on the side

I fell in love with the dream that I built of you
playing the part of the queen
taking my own advice
I'm giving up tonight
good luck to you and the king

excuse me Mrs. Busybody
could you pencil me in
though we both know that the worst part about it
is I would be free when you wanted me
if you wanted me, if you wanted me

I am the man on the side
hoping you'll make up your mind
I am the one who will swallow his pride
life as the man
you know life as the man
living life as the man on the side
-John Mayer

P.S. Here's an imposter's rendition

Broken Heart

     What do I do when I've broken someone's heart? It was not my intent. In fact, I did nearly everything possible to guard against it. I was honest, frank, and forthright. She accepted those terms. In fact, she embraced them, outwardly.
     Even though I knew it was a farce, I rationalized away my guilt. Now, looking back over my happy shoulder, I see the sorrow left behind in my wake. To me, no more than a ripple. To her, a typhoon of the soul, thrusting straws precariously upon her camel.
     Am I so callous that I don't care? Do I remove my emotions because I am correct or justified? Can I forgive and forget when such an act requires no charity because it is directed inward?

No.
I feel.
But, never as much as she.

I'm sorry.

Poetry take 2

Tuesday:

'Tis temporarily Tuesday.
Till tomorrow, time 'twill tarry
twisting through trudging turns.

Thousand tactics target this travesty,
though they're thwarted thoughtlessly.
Tuesday's tyrannical trespass tarries!

Time trickles treacherously,
tempting to truncate Tuesday's terminal transit.
Though, Tuesday's tergiversation 'twill triumph till twilight.

Truants trick this trap transiently;
tenuous trifles to Tuesday,
tolerant to tread till they're thrust thereon time to time.

Tirelessly teeming turmoil
toward the tractable troops,
typifying temporality's totality.

Tribes, that testily tangle
touting tough tempers,
traverse thresholds taunting truce to treaty.

Tactful theories, tilted to transpire terms,
tip the torments timidly toward terminus-
thinly tailoring tense trust through thrifty theatrics.


Therefore, tend tranquilly to thy tasks.
Trouble thyself to thy trove.
Treat tenderly those thou treasurest.

This Tuesday, too, 'twill pass.

I am no poet, but sometimes I pretend

Pink

As the rosy sun kisses the horizon
My eyes blush like the clouds,
Reflecting the rouge
As her rosy hair nears my profile
Silhouetted by bashful clouds.
Both reflecting seen beauty
in the beholder's eye.