A friend asked me to write about rainbows.
This is the piece I come up with.

Rainbows

It's elementary
How this diversionary
Quite simple burglary of the senses
Can be so extraordinary
Yet oh so ordinary
And lead to this simple statement:

I like rain.

Now I don't mean for this piece to revolve around moodiness.
Or the South Korean entertainer of the same name that has ridiculous abs
that look nothing like mine and set me into the previously mentioned
state of moodiness...

Call this a love poem.
Or a processionary
Somewhat rudimentary
At times tumultuary
Piece of gallantry.

...let's just stick with calling it a love poem.
To my favorite natural occurence.

That thing that we sing in
We dance in
We splash around in
Makeout in
And for some people get some heavy petting done in.
Given enough time, it's guaranteed to make anybody wet.

See, I'm a fan of the rythm.
Drop.
Drop.
It starts up slowly.
Gives you time to notice the change of the wind, the sweeping of the clouds,
the cooling of the air.

Drops turns to pitter patter.

People head for cover as the pitter patters turn into a torrential downpour
of liquid precipation formed by the condensation of atmospheric water vapor
into drops of water
and just
before
you realize I just taught you something scientific...

it stops.

silence.
peaceful silence.
drip.
drip.

For some reason I find myself thinking about physical contact
with a woman in the form of sexual intercourse.

Oh let your drops caress every inch of my body and leave me breathless
with your majestic beauty.

That was about the rain.
Rainbows.
They're pretty.
They remind me that everything's gonna be alright and to relax and just
take a break.

Refractory period.
Now that's a blatant sexual reference.
To be honest, I lost track of any meaningful point I wanted to get across
with this piece.
Probably when I said "it".

I think I'll just go get myself a cup of tea now.

-----------------------------

Rough cut.
Just put this together in the last half hour or so.
Ideally it's broken down in a way so that when you read it, you can get the cadence I'm aiming for.

Dating Manual (Outline)

-Foreword/pep talk
-Confidence (sharks)
-The Approach pt.1: positive body signals (eye contact/smiles)
-The Approach pt.2: bartender is your friend
-The Approach pt.3: competition
-The Approach pt.4: bodyguards (women rarely travel alone)
-The Approach pt.5: non-bar/club settings
-Rejection, it's okay
-The Conversation pt.1: Her, her, her (be aware of surroundings)
-The Conversation pt.2.: positive signals
-The Conversation pt.3: negative signals/when to walk away
-Seriously, rejection's okay
-The Conversation pt.4: get contact info
-Now what? Proper sober contact etiquette
-First Date
-Oh crap! More dates?!
-Closing/Words of encouragement

--------------------------

at the least, a rough edit.
probably find myself posting a few snippets in the following day(s).

A letter to the next woman to catch my interest.

SNORE

"S" is for the sunshine your smile brings to my life.
"N" is for the night when I find myself thinking of you.
"O" is for the other time I find myself thinking of you, day.
"R" is for Reggie, in case you forgot my name.
"E" is for enchanting, the way your laugh rings in my ear.

But I like to think it's more than my friend's snoring that's keeping me up and wondering what
you're doing.
It's one of the constants in my current life.
Breathing.
Eating.
Drinking.
Regular bowel movements.
Thinking of you.

And I like to think that I'm not the only one that gets excited about hearing that notification
sound for a new text.
Hoping it belongs to you.
Being disappointed it's just your roommate needing a ride home from work.

Or your mother.
Who is letting you know that her plane touched down safely.
Sure it's been almost half a year since I've seen her.
But there's only one thing I want to hold in my arms right now.

You.
And cash.

So that's two things.
But the cash is ideal because it'll let me spoil you proper.
The way you deserve.
Because you're a 9.9999.
Add me and you're a perfect 10.

I should've been sleeping 6 hrs. ago.
But you're just running around in my head.
Which probably explains your great legs.
Also, dude snores REALLY loudly.
But yea, still thinking of you.
And how I'd be dreaming of you if it wasn't for the dude passed out in the living room.

Still thinking of you...

Why aren't we dating?

--------------------------

so that's pretty much a shortened version of a spoken word piece I'm working on.
part of my insomnia series.

I figure if this one gets enough attention I'll start posting more.
who knows?
maybe I'll even get inspired to get my guitar an' keyboard out of storage an' start songwriting again.

alternatively, I can take topics from all of you and see what my stream of consciousness comes up with.