I cannot tell you

let me tell you
I want to tell you
telling you is all I wish-hope-dream for
yes? answer me with affirmation
spectacular, unique, incomparable
tell me, you say
want me to tell you
anything, everything, nothing
in gasps - in stutters – in silence
in quiet tones
and in between words
in between heart beats - a response
harsh, sarcastic, bitter-sweet, painful, inside, outside
every dimension considered
and rushing through daylight
gathering ideas, mentally noting-
to laugh. To breathe. To feel
warm
hot
on fire – and yet
the cool waters of deliberation
anti-Climax
tell me, you say
deleted words, phrases –
a nod here
a frown there
I cannot tell you

Saturday night ramblings

I have a Neuropharmacology exam on Tuesday. I do not have class, meetings, or lab as it is a Saturday and yet I have only studied 3 hours. Why is this so?
For one thing, I am in my room which is most unconducive to productivity - of the studying variety, of course. I need to be in the library, forced to gaze at nothing other than Neuropharmacology text books and notes.
My room is also under a sleep spell. Rip Van Winkle would agree. Entrance is followed by immediate decrease in the firing rates of most of my brain stem modulatory neurons, and a strong desire to get horizontal.
And then, there's no class on Monday, due to ahem, ahem 'Columbus day'. This really should be a day of national mourning, but that's just me...
What else? I just ate a pesto-cheese-tomato-red pepper-and lettuce sandwhich and studying just doesn't seem so hot anymore. Naughty thoughts have begun to intrude, such as...what better time to watch Grim and Evil than the present? Or even better, Reno 911? Family guy? Or heck, the entire adult swim?
Naughty, I tell you. They are being punished.
Orange juice, anyone?