giving it up on giving it up

I am giving it up on giving it up
I know when to call in and quit
The half that is empty in my cup
Is where my useless attempts will sit
And the other half that is full in there
Is what will give me sustaining drink
Food for thought and nourishment to spare
To dream and aspire and dare to think
That somewhere lies an improbable world
That may still come to be true at last
That somehow this besotted old girl
Will see a miracle come to pass
That day when he is standing before me in person
Beaming his beatific and mesmeric smile
Close enough to touch and be touched in turn
Spinning out the endless space of a little while
Oh, and such an unforgettable moment it will be
Watching his eyes watching my eyes watching him
Ah, and such a sublime torture it will be
Breathing out and in and breathing with him
No words no sound no speech at all
No need to articulate
I let me go and I let me fall
No need to resuscitate
I am giving it all up for it is in vain
No good will come whatsoever
Nothing to lose and less to gain
He rules he wins he is forever!

Twinkle Twinkle superstar

Twinkle twinkle superstar
How I wonder how you are
Up above the firmament high
Dazzling comet flashing by
Will your ball of burning gas
Go the distance to the last?
Combusting in the rarified air
Consuming oxygen lingering there
And what will happen when it ends
Where go fortune’s fickle friends?
That is why it pays to mind
Loves and ties that bond and bind
Those who love you how you are
Twinkling twinkling little star
Stay with me with your light
Stay with me with your bright
Make no promises for to keep
Just wink on me now as I sleep
Let my fire add to your glow
I let it go as I love you so
So twinkle on you shiny star
God keep you pristine as you are!

Staying sane, staying same

All invasive and opinionated people who mean well
Can take their patronizing intentions and go straight to hell!
I don’t need their obsequious patronage or looks of pity!
I don’t care for their so-called caring, concern or sympathy!
They think that I have gone stir-crazy and plain mad,
They reckon my plight is tragic and way beyond sad,
They believe I should revert to my former good sensibility,
And stop this juvenile and pathetic tomfoolery:
Because the subject of my irrational affection
Is eligible for any and every kind of objection...

He is way too young and he is not known to me;
He is a popular and international celebrity;
He is beloved and adored by every hormonal girl;
He is just the current flavor of celluloid world...
How can a woman of otherwise clear intelligence
Be party to such an unthinkable unsuitable indulgence?

But I know who he is and I know who I am,
I love myself way too much to give a damn!
A mature woman is just a girl who has become all grown,
Only she now knows better and has a mind of her own;
Her mind remains sharp and her girly bits as intact,
Her heart still thrives on passion and that is a fact!
Her desire is no less though her skin is less smooth;
She can still burn with the fires from her transpired youth!
She can still love and she can still lust;
She can still dream and she can still trust;
She can still hope and she can still believe
Though faith is too long and life is too brief...
What matters is that he is here,
He is everything she holds dear:
Every single fervent prayer;
Every mischief she did dare;
Every regret from her past
Reminds her to hold fast!

He makes me want to smile and sing!
He renews each old mundane thing!
He makes me want to laugh out loud!
He silvers the lining of each cloud!
He lifts my mood when I am blue;
He reminds me about what is true:
Love is love no matter the form,
Though it be strange and butts the norm;
If that love sustains and keeps me young,
And helps me up yet another rung,
Who am I to question its verity
When it keeps me centred in its clarity?

I have loved too often and too much
To mistake its subtle but familiar touch;
I have come far and survived this journey
Because I have always been true to me!
I love how he makes me feel this way!
I love how he makes me feel today!

So all my critics who mean so well
Can take their interfering tails to hell!
I am happy in my present condition:
Besotted and addicted to Robert Pattinson!
(after another well-meaning "talk" from a concerned "friend"...pffftt!!)

Rambling on 12th August

There he goes, our adorkable Robbie
winning at Teen Choice repeatedly
cool and quirky in his blue plaid
skinny jeans and hair, enough said!
smiling and giggling like he does
wondering wherefore comes the fuss
trying to talk above the cacophony
hormonal fangirls barely past puberty
screaming at him like Irish witches
disregarding attempts at little speeches
love his good humour and practised grace
bless his gorgeous and public face
what must it be like to be him at all
doing his duty at some beck and call
hope he enjoys the crazy-making
downsides with the bonuses taking
hope he finds time to recreate
to be with mates and to celebrate
the harvest of his work and just dessert
enjoy the lightness of being just Robert...

A letter to Rob

I know I am not the first one, alright?
To cry useless tears into the pillow at night,
To wish and pine for what is plainly out of sight,
To resist and deny the unwinnable fight:
To pray for Time to turn its face,
To put me right back into the race,
To have the chance and associated grace,
To receive his words, his smile, his gaze…
Oh, that I could have just one endless moment,
To be that blessed and lucky woman,
To speak in tones all clear and fervent,
As besotted slave and dedicated handmaiden…

Sir, you fill me up and you complete me,
You resurrect and you deplete me,
You infect my soul and you invade me,
You brighten me up and then you fade me…
I know you know the meaning of this:
A kiss, imagined or stolen, is still a kiss,
A bliss, however experienced, is still a bliss,
Though reason and logic both go amiss…
It was never, really, only just about you,
Though all is predicated on how you do,
My own aspirations are emerging through
That magical portal embodied by you…
You have been my own best mate,
I wove your life into my own fate,
And even that you have come too late,
My passion and need do not abate;
With you come memories of my youth,
When thoughts about Love obscured the truth
Of the red and the black of each claw and tooth
Of Life that is without compassion, pity or ruth;
And I find myself in your engulfing sphere,
When all buried desires and drives reappear
To banish the regrets and face down my fear
And follow that still small voice in inner ear…

“Be!” That is the whole of the monosyllable
So much contained in so very little,
For what of what’s right? What of what’s acceptable?
When life is too short and provably mutable?

Sir, you inspirit and you animate me,
You heal me as you reveal me,
How wonderful it is to be me
Living here now and beholding thee!

[Remembering Elvis and simply delighting again in his "company"; Reminded of how Rob is occupying that Elvis space now, and revelling in the company of all the lovely like-minded women similarly smitten by this Brit! <3]

Rob-rehabilitation

I wanna go me some far away distance
To get me some space and separation,
Cure meself of this chronic persistence
Untamable Robertatonic Pattincondition!
I wanna be me pure innocent self again,
Living me scrupulously good and useful life;
Admirable professional, so sound and sane,
Dependable mother and devoted wife!
But all I get when I look in the mirror
Is an unrecognizable and demented woman:
She’s totally for the fear and terror
Of facing the expected Rob-demon!

Oh, and that Grinning Reaper comes for me
With his wicked sharp and curving tool,
He will confirm my lingering death for me
And deliver just desserts for this silly fool!

But how comes this spontaneous combusting
Right smack centre of me quivering loin?
Why are me hips so determined and thrusting,
Straining to crash with his and join?
So many are the things I feel for this devil
That would shame the most wretched h00r!
So many things that I want to do to this devil
That would bar me forever from pearly door!
Is there any hope left for this despicable sinner
If I make a full and contrite confession?
Tell all the ways I covet, perve and leer
At the inexplicably alluring Rob Pattinson?

I wanna crush him with me burning thighs,
Sandwich his bewitching face between,
Squash in his nose, pop out his eyes
Make him raise his almighty peen!
I wanna feel his every lick and probe
Assaulting me questionable virtue,
I wanna feel his strong suck and grope
Giving me torture and punishment due!
I wanna grab him by his fancy ass,
Push him hard up against a wall,
Grinding into his engorged mass,
Mincing each bouncing ball!

I wanna kiss and tease each fleshy nipple
As they harden and go goosey bumpy,
I want him to ram and slam and manhandle
All me bits in rogue rumpumppumpy!
I wanna hear him gasp and rasp
In excruciating sexual exertion,
I wanna grip him in me hold and grasp
Trapping his huge and agonized erection!
I wanna have him dig and delve in me
As often as he fucking well pleases,
I wanna be climaxing hard and repeatedly
I don’t wanna give him no early releases!

I wanna come me a huge enormous river
That floods and overpowers its banks,
I wanna drown me own gorgeous lover
And kill him as a sign of thanks;
I wanna take him way down under
Into me well of insatiable ecstasy,
i wanna have his ghost to haunt thereafter
Just to pimp and serve and pleasure me!

So now you know me madness
And sheer scale of me depravity,
So now you know me sadness
And sheer denial of me reality,
What promises here for Rob-rehabilitation
For a lost cause soul like me?
Just leave me to me eternal condemnation
Suffering Robbielicious Pattinsonsorcery…

London Bridge is falling down...

“Water for Elephants” is in the bag,
Robert has left his Jacob Janowski,
Eyes to where he will see out jetlag:
London Bridge is falling down, my fair laddie!

Will he visit his lady fair
Working over in Canada?
Will a reunion bless this pair
And give them some time together?
It seems there is a small a window
Before “Unbound Captives” starts up,
So jump it, dear Rob, and don’t be slow,
Drink and empty that lovers’ cup!

For we have heard your stricken chords
Trip magic “song from another room”,
How can you rest in your house of lords?
When the call for more begins to loom?
So sing, sweet minstrel, sing for us,
Let your vocals soar the ether!
Be our last, and only and first!
Be our Troubadour now and ever!

We wish you back to London Town
Where they respect your privacy,
Lay some soulful music down
For love of your own soul, my fair laddie!
Comforting strangers and protective friends
And those who respect your gifted muse,
Will help you gather all wearied ends
And let them unravel and loose…

None compares to your unique sound
Your lilting and pulsating harmony…
Sing; fill us with sense-surround,
Corral us in seductive melody…

Though London Bridge is falling down,
With weight of expectations, my fair laddie,
We tumble freely and we wish to drown
In the Thames of your music, my dear Robbie…
(after hearing Rob sing in London, news of WFE wrap up and start of Unbound Captives etc)

The voice of Robert Thomas Pattinson

That voice of yours, my dear Robert Thomas,
Is unbelievably heart-breaking;
To hear it strain as it climbs and bursts
Is to know the meaning of breath-taking;

But you should already know all that, my dear,
Unless you close your perfect ears to the talk,
Unless your humility takes company with fear
And the rising expectations cause you to balk;

Let people expect as they naturally or unnaturally will,
Your voice is a gift that behooves clever custody,
Cultivate it like any other prodigious talent and skill
That was given to you by the muses so unfairly;

For where is the justice in the litany of your treasures
That exceeds that of any other living body and soul?
How fair is it that your account surpasses the measures
For what should be equally shared in parts or in whole?

Everything, Robert, everything with you is superlative;
Nothing short-changed or incurring obvious deficits;
I am so happy to be here and watching you live
Wearing your techni-coloured magical suit because it fits!
(on listening to Rob give an impromptu song on his guitar...Oh my, Elvis lives!)

Ramblings on 4th August

How many times will it take till I know
There’s just no getting enough of Him ever?
And how many takes will it lead time to show
This is just the beginning of Never?
Never will I take leave of my addiction,
Time will only deepen its roots inside,
And from the capture and reach of Robert Pattinson:
There is no place on earth for to run and hide….

Patty RIP

Oh i feel like a realy stupid dick
excepting i really am more of a chick
just found out from surfing the net
that my last poem was with errors beset
apparently Rob's pet dog was not a bitch
and that was not the only hitch
seems that he died last year
that is such a sad thing to hear
but now it seems Rob is getting a replacement
from the set of Water for Elephant
not sure if it is a she or a he
but it makes no difference to me
i still wanna be his little pet
freaking hot to be wet wet wet...
and dear departed Patty, wherever you are
shine on you twinkly little star
sorry i took your name and sex in vain
rest in peace till you meet your Rob again!

I wanna be Pattin’s Patti

I wanna be Pattin’s Patti -
That will be a sweet life for me!!
Such a lucky little bitch
Enduring doggie witch
Waiting patiently in London city
While her master works industriously…
And the sweet reunions, no doubt,
Are things to write poetry about:
Scampering between his feet
Begging for some canine treat
Licking each beloved hand
Performing at his command
Rolling over to expose my tum
Wagging tail at end of my bum
Jumping up to kiss his nose
Dropping down to nip his toes
Snuggling into his fond embrace
Spreading saliva all over his face
Letting him scratch me on my head
Lying on his chest and on his bed
Wriggling into my favorite position
Just below his cute belly button
Snuffling into his manly spot
His smells are sharp and hot
This is where I covet the most
Enticing as fresh buttered toast
He laughs at my indulgence
With simple artless innocence
I watch him lasciviously
As he smiles deliciously
The sensation is unmistakable
His hardening is only natural
He looks at me with aqua eyes
I leer at him under my disguise
He shakes his head in disbelief
And tries to move for some relief
I yelp and whine so prettily
He can’t shift his precious Patti
From where she looks so smug and snug
Fondling his fat bug in bulging rug
So I stay for the duration
Of my master’s perturbation
Wondering about his own sanity
Imagine doubting faithful Patti…
Oh yes, no transient female lover
For my shape-shifting undercover
I know where his heart lies for sure
I know he thinks and pines for her…
So I wanna be Pattin’s Patti -
That will be a sweet life for me!!