all of a sudden passion suddenly

[vampiredust]

Lifer

He sits on the prison bench,
weeping, not noticing lichen
growing in the walls of his mind.
No. He's somewhere else, painting
a scene of the river Seine, sketching
families as they walk by. He shapes
the images with his feelings, carving
out his bitterness with coal-dust
and black ink. Everything is so dark
here but he's somewhere else
and he's kept warm by the cold
nuzzling against his skin.

 

[champagne1982]

My Favourite Flavour

Lingering on my tongue with a subtle hue
bordering on purple
passions muting across the landscape
of tastebud gardens and savoury
treetops in sprout
then tinted in the ultraviolet
side of the spectrum
invisible to my ears.

A guiding hand upon my own
to urge my fingers around that strength
found below the hot surface
beneath my touch.

Such power in a colour, paint me

blue.​

 

[champagne1982]

citrus invades my nose
and slips across porcelain
flowers of daisy and sun
the rumble of ceramic
on steel a clink of glass
the glitter of bright white
bouncing off bubbles
and rainbows laying
seige to my eyes.

 

[Maria2394]

half n' half

If winter is an urn, waiting to be filled
then Spring is yearning,
waiting to be felt

 

[Guest]

This chamomile tea better work
cuz reading doesn't
Ronco's infomercials don't
Sponge Bob Square Pants
M.A.S.H
nope, nope

A little voice tells me Ambien
will have me in La-La Land in no time
but then I know better
I'll be an Ambi Zombie until noon

Maybe it's better than bad dreams
of creaking doors and tall shadows
Maybe walking dead is better than night sweats
a tight chest and no breath

Maybe after this cup of tea
it won't matter to me at all

 

[Maria2394]

little old lady

she came at me, wincing
attempting a close up of my own grief
was there any?

I noticed her skin, smooth
her veins were surface prominant
eyes a fractured blue green maze

and in her I saw myself
in forty years and grandmother
lying still, no jitters in her jaw

no tremor in her soul.
I embraced her one last time.
Damn, what beautiful skin.

 

[Maria2394]

diggers

why do they wait, those morbid ones?
do not tell me its out of respect.
I know they lower, and how they lower,
into the red and clutching.

 

[Guest]

I wish it were as easy as sipping
a cup of Chamomile instead of
popping pills that dissolve
in my stomach and eat away
my liver for dinner.

It's happening and there's nothing
I can do to stop it or the fear of waking
each morning with my heart jumping
madly inside my chest to go to bed
the same way.

There's no one to blame anymore.
The bully of a father then a husband
are now gone, and I'm stuck with
a benzodiazepine clinical addiction.

I guess it's better than buying dope
from the streets and getting high,
but I don't enjoy digging thru my purse
frantically, stopped at a red light
not being able to find them, and
most of the time there right there
in front of my face, so the kids say

My eyes can't see anything in a panic.
My hands don't stop shaking.

I wish I were a little girl again but with
different parents. Maybe none of this
would've ever happened.

It couldve been worse, though.
But shouldve wouldve couldve aint happenin'
I'm here now, can't go back.

I guess I'm still blaming.
I'll always be blaming.

I know Chamomile tea is too easy
it can never be the fix, unless it's laced
with something not as sweet as honey

Today, I'm an Ambi Zombie
fake happy face, smiling
sleepwalking until noon

Maybe people who need me won't know
they do, but they are silent because
maybe they are dead too

 

[4degrees]

fiction
back beat mental friction
making my lids stay wide
along the while
an ever ride
the longest mile
inspite of
inspite of
a medicinal synergy
still, i feel
a radical energy
i am four degrees warmer than
i've ever been
flush with some puzzling
intro-heat, a leather glove
on one hand insulates
the whole of me
this hole of me
empty
again, looking for a serial
re-fill and you, to take stock of
this fucked up inventory.
i am four steps closer than
i've ever been
to embracing the truth
that rolls from a man's veins
a rich toxic sweetness
the stuff of dreams
awake or sleeping, my
common conciousness
is uncommonly good,
eyes open or shut,
brave through this recipie
the key
is right there, for all of us to grab.

///love

 

[Luv2PleasureF]

Silence

Silence... it comes from many places.
It comes from taking someone at their word... "ever again".
It comes from lying on a hospital stretcher in unimaginable pain,
Silence more deafening than my screams of agony.

Silence comes from not knowing what to say,
Not even knowing one's own feelings,
Wondering what good explanations would do,
Expecting them to fall on deaf ears.

Silence is contemplating one's existence,
The brain stifled by Demerol and Morphine,
Wondering if this is the end,
Praying simultaneously that it is, and isn't.

Then from nowhere, a voice is heard saying "I love you",
I am too befuddled by medication and pain,
To understand the gravity of his words,
I simply reply, "I love you too, Dad."

Later I am told there is no worse pain,
That nurses are instructed this very thing,
And physically I must agree, this was the worst,
But even a kidney stone pales next to the pain...

Of a broken heart.

 

[4degrees]

degrees of separation
and cutting away
obscure cross section of
defiant pain
memorized those touchy
membranes, so much that
i can draw a map of you
with my eyes squeezed tight
impossibly impassable but somehow
that salty drop seeps out
showing the world that
inside, i am as soft as
overcooked pork
everythings not all cracked up
to be everything we think
and daily i forget
to follow that cord
all the way down
and see just where it's
plugged in
electrical fire stings in my nose
and that plastic melting away
smells like the death
of barbie and ken.

 

[SeattleRain]

if I live long enough
to the time we forget to learn
and only remember what will be called into mind
what war, what starvation
felt
engaged
buried
no
just a passive glance through a serotinin cloud

who will remember the intangible
a skip and a plunge are the same thing
in the waters of imagination
god help me punch through the top of this coffin

my fist passes right through
oh the roll and sleep and dream
yes we feel so good
we feel so good

when I am old
I will write of the days
that I wrote until my fingers
turn inside out like a leather glove
that has become separated from its lining

 

[Man Ray]

Random nonsense!

Is it the age we live in?
Is it my age?



Imps building a fun house within my head!
Imps playing silly beggars with my head!



Drowning in visions of impossibilities and ridiculousness.
Drowning without you...an impossible, ridiculous vision!



Contemplating delirious emptiness on a dark sunlit winter day.
Contemplating why I write while delirious this dark empty day?

 

[Man Ray]

with you my love will never peak
the foundations will never creak
but sometimes I am a tad weak
and my silly emotions will leak
my deepest thoughts turn bleak
and in secret I will softly weep​

​

 

[perks]

I am full of tears
filled to the brim
and over flowing
going to my bed
with red weary eyes
aching in my throat
noting every raw
pain, i'm insane
with grief
and no relief is
in sight
insight inside
my gaping wound
a slow tick tock
picking, sticking fingers
into my injury
insulting every nerve
ending never
just liquifying life
into a puddle of tears

 

[champagne1982]

Dreamtime

there's a dream in this
memory of first kisses
and true love
make it last forever
I cannot bear the end

before the real beginning
we were ones erect
and proud in unique view
points straight morality
all that guides youth

through the blemish days
weeks turn into months
and how I hate the scars
left from growing
into the person

I've become someone
else educated
by experience and experiment
with feeling adult
in my jaded kisses
of hazy dreams and memory

 

[Maria2394]

I want another parental guide,
a rating system
to warn me of impending doom,
to warn us of impending doom

of massacres in full bloodied color
on the news in th emorning,
the news at Noon

I want someone to save me, post
a call box on this road of gloom,
with someone at the other end
to tell me there's another room

without the gore, without bushes
burning, without women crying
and without mothers mourning

 

[Maria2394]

someone is building a missile
I heard it was Iran. Someone
said that missiles are bad,
I think it was Japan,
someone told me America
woudl hold anybodys hand
as long as they aimed their missiles
at someone elses land

I prefer a land with no missiles,
let them all throw rocks instead,
but that s where problems originate
in some baren, rock filled land

poets dont need missiles
we can shame them with our words,
the problem is, the missile builders
are deaf, and blind and dumb

 

[champagne1982]

I heard about the soldier boy
who lost a leg today
to a suicide bomber with
an explosive coat
worn especially for a trip
to heaven.

Do they even care
beyond their selfish hearts
that a mother weeps
a wife despairs for her man
and the trauma
to his psyche?

So, what about the soldier boy
who lost his life today
in service to his God
and leaders in the war
some call holy?

Most call God when faced
with fear and failing
heart. It doesn't matter
His name, just that they
know their need,
a personal Jesus
in a jihad.

 

[annaswirls]

it is never apparent what will happen when you press that little yellow button on the side of the walkie talkie and the numbers have gone from me now along with the lingo even got a pig in the sky where were you baby when I could talk like a trucker?

make mine on ice
blood vessels constrict
it all moves to the core
moves to the core
we can lose the extremities
asve the couer
save

coroner
cross we go numb
with the motion building
just under the skin bring on the heat

caught by my own lipstick on the sheets

 

[Maria2394]

it is raining, it is and I
do not have a tin roof
like the one my mother wanted
the year before she died
she told me there was nothing
more soothing than the tapping

the call ofthe rain makes
makes no sound, not an introduction
thnder doesnt count, she wanted
the tip, tip, tip tip tapping
the bouncing of droplets before
they surrendered to her window pane

 

[Maria2394]

i have a vague recollection
of never seeing snakes, at least
they rarely made their presence known
when I was small and invincible
and the creek was still wider
than the lumpy asphalt road

Mama called the blue ones pilots,
asp narrow heads raised in defiance,
bellies shielded from scorching road
by nothing more than indifference,
I was in awe of them all

even the ones my sister invented,
that lived in the deep woods
under rotting logs and had red stripes giant fangs
and lie written across the backs
of them all

those are the ones that frighten me,
imaginary fangs and multicolored
ironed on words, it took me several decades
to understand why, I still fear the snake
but not the lie

 

[annaswirls]

it should not be this hard
to make a list:
it is my fault of course
I should be making this list every day

I must come into your mind
on the shelf of the free book center
your index finger moves
on command
pulls the anthology free of tight neighbors
drop poetry in your basket
and wonder
which mood will recieve this gift

~


you search with unrelenting persistence
whever one of the boys
cannot remember the words to a song
no soner the hum and frustration then it is downloaded
and we are dancing on the shag rug
that leaves red fuzz in every corner of the steps

you never complain about all of the red fuz
that collects on our steps

~


you still sing me the X-files theme
to call me downstairs
there is ice in my glass
no one can sing along
24

the meaner Jack gets
the more we laugh
you feed me the children's candy
without remorse

~

 

[annaswirls]

I catch rain
in wrinkled hand cups
I catch rain

 

[Sabina_Tolchovsky]

he paces back and forth
wearing the same path
with the repeation of the sick

20 X 20 feet
when his blood was bred to run
25 miles a day

hunting eyes
cold and calculating
all the better to track with
devouring teeth
sharp and pointed
all the better to tear the flesh with
large paded feet
pointed gripping nails
all the better to give chase with

he is the predator
the one of stories
a nightmare enemy

he is the pack
confined
fed road kill
and animals too old to live

in a society that can not afford him freedom
he is kept
locked
managed
medicated

he is still the pack
his heart is the natural law
where man has no say
to eat only what he kills
and run 25 miles a day​