Seville - a romantic pretension in three verses

Heat shimmers, but an oppressive heat
Bearing down on a cobble-like street
I've walked for hours in Mediterranean sun
And I sit writing here, beneath a statue of Don Juan
or Quixote
I forget which
Or maybe I never knew in the first place.
"Is this what contentment is?"
I think, as I glance at her face

Because despite the ache in my feet
And the bastard horses, that cause me to retreat
Into shadowy corners of ancient churches
And a faint hunger as my stomach lurches
From unknowing
At this moment
At this small window of time and space
I feel happiness, as I glance at her face

But its almost a melancholy pleasure
As if I don't deserve this treasure
Like its been plundered by high sea buccaneers
And smuggled to my grasp under polished veneer
I should stop this mental state
And enjoy whats now
I don't believe in fate
But if I did, Seville seems the place
And life is all good when I glance at her face

Red Wine And Coke

So, I am putting up my first poem. On this Blog thing, I mean. Not the first one I ever wrote. God no, that one was awful. I mean, I'm not saying this one is amazing, but its better than that. I think. Anyway, its about how I went to a gig recently that a girl I quite like was going to, and I was all worried beforehand and everything. But then, the night was great, and the day after I wrote this. Its called Red Wine And Coke

Isn't it strange how worked up you can get,
Imagining the worst of what hasn't happened yet?
Maybe its too much to wonder, indeed,
Especially when quoting the pessimists creed -

"Don't bother. Give up. This isn't for you.
That way you wont be let down if you do
Try to act cooler than a North Pole Elf
And end up just making an arse of yourself"

I think the issue with pre-planned events,
Is much like those plans of mice and of men:
Something Scottish about things going wrong
But I honestly believed that my thesis was strong

No major plans, just a band with a show
With some friends who also wanted to go
But then I find out that she will be there
And I start panicking about how I don't like my hair,
Or my face or my my beard or the things I could wear

So fuck it, I think, just go and have fun
So shes cooler than you, and has a great bum
So you will probably trip up and fall on your face
Or manage to cause some kind of social disgrace

But then the night happened, and it went really well
It was not at all close to the Dante-esque circle of hell
I had envisaged earlier on, while watching the sky
(Though drinking did help, I'm not gonna lie)

Long story short, we had a great time
And when I offered an invite to come back to mine
To laugh and to kiss and to drink some red wine
(With some coke, which she learned of while visiting Spain)

And listen to music, and to smoke cigarettes, and I'm
So very glad that, despite the pessimist side of my mind
and despite the evening's very late time
And my ridiculously self-critical traitorous brain,

She seems to like me.

And I like her.

And I like red wine and coke.