O Blush Not So!

O BLUSH not so! O blush not so!
Or I shall think you knowing;
And if you smile the blushing while,
Then maidenheads are going.

There's a blush for want, and a blush for shan't,
And a blush for having done it;
There's a blush for thought, and a blush for nought,
And a blush for just begun it.

O sigh not so! O sigh not so!
For it sounds of Eve's sweet pippin;
By these loosen'd lips you have tasted the pips
And fought in an amorous nipping.

Will you play once more at nice-cut-core,
For it only will last our youth out,
And we have the prime of the kissing time,
We have not one sweet tooth out.

There's a sigh for aye, and a sigh for nay,
And a sigh for "I can't bear it!"
O what can be done, shall we stay or run?
O cut the sweet apple and share it!

John Keats


I'm so loving this poem. Reminds me of my flirtatious best :)

Self Induced Literary Paralysis

You guys, I always mean to write. I compose entire posts in my head but then life happens and when I get back to blog everything just doesn't seem that good anymore. I need one of those phones where you can instantly post to your blog before I have time to change my mind . See, the thing is some stuff I just won't write cause I am afraid of it not meeting my expectations of what I know it could be. I don't write for an audience, I write for myself. I want to write what I would want to read so when I think it could be so much better its paralyzing and in the end I write nothing at all. And yes, I know its my loss.

Anyway let me just end this post with an example of how I want to write. (I lifted this straight from a friends blog but don't judge)

INCOGNITO
Meet me in Cognito, baby.
In Cognito we’ll have nothing to hide.
Let’s go incognito, honey,
And let the world believe that we’ve died.

Meet me in Cognito, baby,
Of course we’ll have to color our hair.
The best thing about life in Cognito
Is that everybody’s nobody there.

Meet me in Cognito, darling,
Sure, some may think that it’s rash,
But you’ll look chic incognito
With your fake nose and Groucho mustache.

Meet me in Cognito, baby,
We’ll soon leave our pasts behind us.
The present is always a mystery,
As the future never fails to remind us.

Once we’re alone in Cognito,
We’ll remove all of our clothes very fast,
But though we be naked as jaybirds,
At no time will we take off our masks.

Cinderella went incognito,
And it’s said that she had a ball.
It’s always midnight in Cognito
By the black clock at the end of the hall.

We’re destined to be clandestine,
Incognito is our very last hope.
I’ll meet you where the sun don’t shine,
With a fake I.D. and some dope.

So do join me in Cognito,
You know that I’ll never tell.
We’ll sneak in the back door of Heaven
And stroll unnoticed through Hell.

Incognito
Incognito
There, every day’s a surprise.
Incognito
Incognito
Where truth tells all the best lies.

(Those who travel in Cognito-
Their very lives can depend on a hunch.
They eat intuition for breakfast
And sip cold paranoia at lunch.)

If you won’t meet me in Cognito, Baby,
I’m apt to go out of my head.
But if you really can’t handle incognito
Meet me in Absentia, instead.

The One Who Is Missing is missing,
He can’t run but He certainly can hide.
His ghost car is parked in Cognito,
Do you think He might give us a ride?

You play the game incognito,
You risk paying a very stiff price.
You’ll bet the ranch on Number 13,
Though that number is not on the dice.

No news is good news in Cognito,
Addresses are damn hard to find.
The queen of spades runs the mailroom
And all the postmen are legally blind.

Just because you’re naked
Doesn’t mean you’re sexy,
Just because you’re cynical
Doesn’t mean you’re cool.
You may tell the greatest lies
And wear a brilliant disguise
But you can’t escape the eyes
Of the one who sees right through you.

In the end what will prevail
Is your passion not your tale,
For love is the Holy Grail,
Even in Cognito.

So better listen to me, sister,
And pay close attention, mister:
It’s very good to play the game,
Amuse the gods, avoid the pain,
But don’t trust fortune, don’t trust fame,
Your real self doesn’t know your name
And in that we’re all the same:
We’re all incognito.

TOM ROBBINS.