... because I mistake love for lust and vice versa.

Ice cream and BJs. You did ask.

Thanks, o reliable sirens of dating poetry. :)

It's strange watching Ecclestone & Tennant in light of Matt Smith for me, as the new one is invariably the best.

That said, I'm a Tom Baker man.

Now stop mucking about with time paradoxes and get back to storytelling, Auntie Beeb.

The Easter Bunny

Brought beer and DVDs and pizza

And a friend with a motorbike.

I'm not allergic to eggs

But I know what I like.

Hey you.

I still have that t-shirt of yours.

You may not want it,

It's stretched to heck

In the shoulders and chest.

But if you still want it,

Pop by.

All the other bits

I already put back

On your clothes line.

Interesting news item the other day about the possibility of planets existing within the "calm eye of the storm" within black holes.

I'm a big fan of the suggested "evolutionary" model of the universe, in which a universe's evolution is only considered successful if it gets to the point where it creates black holes massive enough to punch a hole into another reality and voila! big-bang up another universe.

Mesmerised as bath water drains away.

I want a million dollars.

In pennies.

To build a scale model of Vegas.

Out of pennies.

To be sold on Etsy.

For about $370.

Not including postage.

And I'll say:

"You gave me all those pennies.

What did you think I'd do with them?"

We shared no friends
We had a thing
Long distance, words and images
We whispered in our messages.

Then she proposed
Out of the blue
It never had been serious
At least, it seems, for one of us.

I stayed online
To manage things
She found strength in bitterness
We remained friends, nonetheless.

Not quite the same
But still we spoke.
I can't believe it's been five years
We always Poke when one appears.

The other week
Response delayed
I pouted, and I mildly stomped
She always was so very prompt.

Her sister wrote
Upon her wall
That she'd been taken gravely ill
And had been rushed to hospital.

No-one replied
To me for days
But then a stranger broke the news
And all emotions were confused.

We never met,
Would never do,
Now miles away, real people grieve
And bid with love their darling leave.

She touched me,
I'll remember her.
No greater tribute can I say;
We log out and we walk away.

Sorry, I meant "argument" more in terms of as a debate response rather than as actual arguing. My mistake, I wasn't clear.

Just thought I'd jump in.

Has anyone yet said "You don't believe in 2869 gods, I don't believe in 2870; you're practically an atheist too"?

I'm sure someone has probably brought up the whole Creationism stance that once upon a time, Creationists could argue that God created the heavens and earths and all things that dwell upon him, but these days Creationists are forced to accept most of evolution and instead are reduced to arguing that God created a microscopic part of an animal that couldn't have evolved by natural selection (except it probably did), and therefore God's perceived actual output is just getting smaller and smaller. The phrase Dawkins uses is "the God of Gaps".

Surely someone's provided links to that equally credible Creationist, Bill O'Reilly, who said that you couldn't explain tides (just because he couldn't).

And of course, the violence of religion versus the violence of science. Science does not exist to be violent, but I believe many great advances in science that ended up killing people (atomic warfare, I'm looking at you) were due to political and religious forces driving their development.

Religion says "listen and shut up or else". Science says "go on, keep talking".

And so on and so forth. The over-arcing Christian argument seems to be "I feel sorry for you, I will pray for your soul." Which, let's face it, isn't much of an argument.

I feel people should be free to practice their religion in any non-repressive, non-dogmatic, non-violent and genial fashion they care to, I'm fine with that; and atheists and scientists should be free to point out fundamental flaws in theology with no fear of physical or mental distress.

Hey, I only believe in science. I haven't done all the experiments myself, or seen the curvature of the earth for myself, or any of that. So my faith in science is as much of a belief structure as anyone else's.

Only my belief structure is based on provable facts and testable hypothesis, and actually WELCOMES people to prove otherwise. So it is far more likely to be closer to the gospel truth than the Gospels.

That's me done. Mostly redundant, but, y'know, just saying. Anyway, as Dave Allen used to say: "Good night, and may your God go with you."

What an ending. Really good piece.

... instead of meeting people. It just happened.

So send me a message. If you like, I can make a poem out of it. Or we could just chat. That'd rock.

Oh, and I'm new. And shiny. You'd like that.

Jez

The earlier I have to get up the next day, the later I stay up watching TV. It's not insomnia though. It's just pure bloody-mindedness.

In the afternoon bar of a business hotel
Far enough away from home
I met you and I met you too
To see if what we'd heard was true.

I answered your profile with seven words
Like a taste of things to come
We had a bit of message fun
And then we turned the cameras on.

Whereas you found me on your brave first night
Your avatar a garden gnome
So very shy in words alone
So very shy upon the phone.

We talked about you after cameras off
And so decided to become
A couple for convenience
To enter an experience.

A brief introduction opened your shell
You found a female friend welcome
Our faces in a conference call
As inhibitions gently fall.

It was you in your blossoming shyness first
Brought up that word that ends in some
A thing we felt had passed us by
We all secretly longed to try.

In the afternoon bar of a business hotel
Where we have booked a room to roam.

A little wine to loosen cares
Six hands in hands
Let's go upstairs.

Thanks for the comments, all. You make me want to write more. :)

I asked her what she was looking for
She said a bunch of stuff
Then said
"I don't date blacks."

Now, this was before the digital photo,
The affordable webcam,
The exhaustive profile.
So I was mostly just a name
And words on a heavy monitor.

And I bristled.
This'll not stand.
And so I planned.

She had no reason,

Beyond "didn't like them",
So I gave her no reason to walk away.

And over chats became warm and light,
She said she liked me,

And over chats became hot and heavy,
She said she wanted me,

Whoever that was.

I found a photo of a handsome man.
"This is me", I said.
And pictured her racist face, slack,
Falling like unrolling scripture,
Having fallen for the "black"
In the picture.

She turned about and ceased to call.
As it transpired, with regret,
I never found out
If, as I suspect,
My plan had backfired,

I may have given her a reason after all.

I want
To worship
You from afar
With your fetish
Upon my screen.

I want
To see you
As you see me
The way we were meant
To be seen.

I want
To tell you
And have you tell me
Of the things
We would do
If we met.

And we both want
To leave it
Quite neatly as that.

You should not meet your gods
Till you're set.

They miss the closeness, all the traps of love,
They sometimes feel alone, or dropped, or left.
The single people. Logging in, in hope,
And hoping for a number next to "Mail"
Not always there. Their login names above,
Identities for those who feel bereft,
Inclined to cast themselves as ones who fail
And sit, logged in, still lonely, and they mope.
But that's just bad days. Those days can be turned
Around by just a nudge, a wink, a flirt
From those who want to Mingle Too, who've learned
To act, and now: we're long beneath the dirt.

And all they need is contact and a chance,
And that will keep us smiling as we dance.

Don't take to your feet
If I talk too sweet
Too soon
There's no cause for alarm
I'm just pouring the charm
With a spoon
And as syrup so golden when seen from above
Looks leaden from underneath
What's viewed as shiny
And fine from up here
Might be more than just bad for your teeth
If it sets them on edge
I'll hedge
My bets and jump to my senses
Like discarded pants and put them on
Put yourself at ease
And give me a squeeze
Of lemon
I can take it
I need toning down
Not turning down like an over-heard tune
A stroke of the arm
While I'm pouring the charm
With a spoon.