100 Words

[eagleyez]

to fish or not to fish. that is the question. by the time my youngest gets over here it will be late morning, and we usually go at the crack of dawn. that said, the river inlet is chalk full of smallies, sunfish, pickerel and perch. plop a nightcrawler in front of one of these bastards and I bet they wont resist. It will probably be worth the hike and the pastoral setting anyhow, what with multitudes of birds, spring wildflowers and fresh air galore. we talk endlessly, spend hours reveling in each others presence. Its going to be sunny and coolish, breezy and so very nice.

That settles it, if he is up for it, off we go.

 

[Tzara]

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[Tzara]

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[Sabina_Tolchovsky]

Day dreams

100 words fell off your tongue into my ear in a whispered hush while your eye's locked to mine and showed me oblivion. Did your cheeks flush deep while you thought those thoughts secret and dark? You let them loose on the wind that kicked up today and blew the pear blossoms through the air, one stuck to the side of your mouth...I wanted to kiss it off and sample the taste. I wondered if it would taste like a pear...sweet sugary sandpaper with a hint of salt from your flesh and rough day old shaven stuble. I love the way my name sounded in your voice lost so quick to the wind.

 

[clutching_calliope]

The Meaning of Hockey

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[Sabina_Tolchovsky]

Oh Canada

The Oilers won their playoff tonight.. I really don’t like hockey, all the sweating without the skimpy clothing. What a waste. Those guys don’t have many teeth either.

I like hockey. I know some don't, maybe it was growing up next to Canada and only getting the CBC for television (when it came in clearly) that made me like such things. Maybe, my red blood cells are shaped like maple leaves and snowflakes...
I grew up watching a mild mannered insurance salesman become
Mr. Canoehead, 4 on the floor and SCTV during the golden days of the CBC...I also have a fondness for the music, Blue Rodeo, The Tragically hip and Sam Roberts. I think I would move there if it was not so expensive for me to do so.
I would watch local kids hockey games in the winter every year and learn the national anthem by heart...

 

[clutching_calliope]

National Pride

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[clutching_calliope]

Sucking the Farts from Dead Camels

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[flyguy69]

Freud says it’s alright to feel like choking your mother by apron strings she has you bound. Stains on my spine that resemble the scorched parts of the ironing board are whispered about, but I never see them. Hoe that removed my baby toe was thrown in a ditch after it rusted. More than livable to overcorrect one’s gait because your mother erred, shouted, wept, begged to be redeemed, sober, an educated honour roll student. But empathy. She should have wanted that. Even tears couldn’t prevent the scalding on my face when she laughed at something another sixth grader said.

What in the world is this title about?!

 

[Sabina_Tolchovsky]

Soapy hands run over my body as I stand giving in to their touch, heat rises and I lean my forehead against cold tiles to steady myself...I can feel you behind me drawing closer as you wash all the day's grit off my body. My eye's close and my mind swirls with the steam rising above it all to the place where there is just two bodies with nothing but water between them, where you flow into me and slide against you...nothing else matters in this place all I have to do is feel you, be with you and nothing more.

 

[Inni Em]

I always thought music and poetry went together but it didn't take me long to realize I'm wrong. I maybe inspired to write poetry after hearing a beautiful song but I'm unable to think clear when I even hear voices in the backround. It seems there's noise around me at all times and I'm getting annoyed when thoughts come to mind, wanting to write them down immediately. It's never easy coming back later to finish and then I think I'm a tree killer because many papers end up in the trash.

I want a padded room with a heavy lock on the door but I still know I'm going to use my eraser and that angers me too.

 

[clutching_calliope]

Horseradish

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[Sabina_Tolchovsky]

scotch, sex and curse words...

I, am naughty. I swear and I laugh when my best friend say's things like "Jesus Tits!" when she is frustrated. I talk openly about sex and masterbation. I know how to keep this under wraps but most of the time I don't. My male friends say I exude sex, sometimes that gets me in trouble. I love women, men and toys, I don't think there is anything wrong with that. I, look at porn. I drink too much scotch sometimes, most of the time. (is a liquor buget of 400$ a month too much?) I mean it's not like I am buying twenty dollar bottles, I won't buy anything under fifty if I can help it. I am not a drunk, perhaps a lush though...

 

[clutching_calliope]

The Sameness of Falling

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[clutching_calliope]

I'm so hopeless.

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[cherries_on_snow]

Shroud

The robe, one of Brad Pitt's cast offs, was a gift from a set dresser. The pattern was cream and grey boxes, overlapped so that some were nearly black and some nearly white. Only there was another colour intruding on the black and white: a colour not red and not brown but the colour of the worst smell accompanied by the worst sight: a cat. A beloved, small, black and white cat, dead, half in/half out of the dryer; dead stiff and hot, the dryer door pushed open too late, the robe cradling.

I buried him in it.

 

[cherries_on_snow]

On the Second Message

On the second message his voice leaks. There is a tremble between words, the m's and ns interchangeably muffled.

The first message is almost princely. Hello, I have called you. I will try again and it is here in the final grain of the first message that I hear the small plea. In a thin strain: call me. call me. If I can catch him then, call before the second message, I feel better. He will sleep.

It is said of rabbit year born that they are sometimes sad. His soul ripples through me blue like a pond I swim.

 

[clutching_calliope]

Related to Royalty

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[MsBug]

Gritty, yeah, that's what I'd call it. Hot breath over slick intentions, and I need a smoke, but that's not allowed anymore...pussies. How can you grind to any sort of rhythm without a smokey beat? Big Brother has sucked all the fun out of the nightlife.

Ah, but that doesn't stop the unrighteous from trying. At night's end I should be draped in tangible silk, woven from some of the most imaginative bullshit I've heard in a while. Who knows, maybe by then I'll succumb, slip on my lascivious shoes and go flirt with disaster. God hates a quitter.

 

[cherries_on_snow]

Gritty, yeah, that's what I'd call it. Hot breath over slick intentions, and I need a smoke, but that's not allowed anymore...pussies. How can you grind to any sort of rhythm without a smokey beat? Big Brother has sucked all the fun out of the nightlife.

Ah, but that doesn't stop the unrighteous from trying. At night's end I should be draped in tangible silk, woven from some of the most imaginative bullshit I've heard in a while. Who knows, maybe by then I'll succumb, slip on my lascivious shoes and go flirt with disaster. God hates a quitter.

Wow! *stands and claps* Bravo! Great pace.

 

[clutching_calliope]

Roasting

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[RhymeFairy]

Gritty, yeah, that's what I'd call it. Hot breath over slick intentions, and I need a smoke, but that's not allowed anymore...pussies. How can you grind to any sort of rhythm without a smokey beat? Big Brother has sucked all the fun out of the nightlife.

Ah, but that doesn't stop the unrighteous from trying. At night's end I should be draped in tangible silk, woven from some of the most imaginative bullshit I've heard in a while. Who knows, maybe by then I'll succumb, slip on my lascivious shoes and go flirt with disaster. God hates a quitter.

ditto to Cherry ~ Love this one my friend ~

 

[RhymeFairy]

I found the man in the old poet's home, a sonnet drooling from the corner of his mouth and down his unshaven chin. I offered a hanky, but he declined. He wanted to let it drip, let it flow naturally and pool in his lap. He beckoned me to come closer, to lean over and watch his verse take shape. Word by word it grew, lines stacked atop each other. I watched him erect his poetry up from the foundation of soft flannel and crumbs. Then he requested that I close my eyes and read him like a dirty, dog-eared book.

been said b4 I know ~ BUT this is awesome ~!!

Lovin' it ~

 

[cherries_on_snow]

When I ask if he was violent, she says no (this is a shelter; the objective answer is likely not no), so I ask if he has ever . . . and I read down the list of behaviours: choking, yelling, intimidation. The boxes are checked and her file processed (judgment left by the door with the outdoor shoes and umbrella I will take with me in the morning). Attention turns to her child who is playing with a pink toy washing machine. He is lost in a dream of normal. She pulls the toy out of his hands and calls him "Sissy."

 

[Tzara]

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