all of a sudden passion suddenly

[champagne1982]

::

I wear you like a mask,
your flesh pulled
tight to mine, your musk seized in fistfuls,
slapped to my chest and smeared
down
down
over ridges and hard-
edged hips. I wear you
like skin stretched
over thrashing joints rug-burned
and raw. You’re in my nose
and mouth and your deafening
blood is a drum
to which I dance.

::

Grasp this elastic covering
and stretch it to fit the form
force fed emotion through gaps
opened in the outer layer
when pulled too tight
over something too big to fit

make it work even though a snag
cuts a run in silk to stop
just at the seam holding
sexuality in place in case

the scent of wanton slips over
inside thighs bent around
that lusty form to pound
this elastic into shape.

 

[vampiredust]

Epiphany Of My Father's Guitar

I watched you play it on
the beach, every note lulling
the blackened waves. I never

understood where your songs
came from; you just picked up
its wooden belly and would

strum its soul, filling everything
with the tears that I never got
to see. When you went away,

Mother burnt it in the garden
along with the photos of you,
but you could hear the songs

still being played on the beach,
like a lullaby to a fading moon.

 

[4degrees]

you showed me.
passion was nothing, before
you
meaningless and ill construct
until we...
well, ha.
rhymes just happen,
un-coincedential
and consequential flow
breeds, and matters,
to one person on the planet

fuck the flowers and birds
and fancy words
i've a hole in my word-net,
they escape right away
no matter though,
you know
know just exactly
what the hell
i'm saying.

 

[Tzara]

Concours d'Elegance

Time has aged you, but you've aged well
and been well cared for. Your classic lines
form a shape made to heavier design
but those richer curves attract more eyes
than the skinny younger models, all alike. No,
you are not so nimble, perhaps, as they are,
but their feel is harsh and hard. Almost bony.
I like my ride more softly sprung. And
though you're slow to warm, with care and time
when I finally put the pedal down, you've got power
to give me still. You come quickly up to speed.

So. It's a lovely day and there is open road.
Let me rub and burnish than sleek skin.
Let's chance it. What say I take you for a spin?

 

[Maria2394]

future mother of a tree

new growth reaches
winter-tender fingertips
and bends to the earth for a glimpse
of gravity lost to a paring knife

crepe myrtle cutlets with pebble-shaped leaves
pruned from shoots pulled down
from wisteria's crown
blunt end of sprout sliced then rolled
into a powdery mountain of RootTone

in a few months, a new home provided
roots have appeared below the moist soil
where I planted you
after the plucking and dusting

 

[Maria2394]

evolution of poetry, circa 3500 AD

its been awhile since Arnold
bared his ass for Cameron

and the machines have risen, risen

and poetry has fallen victim
to strictest definition, like

take for instance blue
is blue, one tone, no variation

just blue and red, dont get me started
its all about frequency, my dear poet

its all about tone and upload, up
loading of that frequency, dont you see?

it cant be poetry if the machines
cant HEAR IT! they cant hear it

only blue and the childrens of blue
and the only frequency they reserve

for anyone is one level above
and one below, the saturation point

of, yes, you got it, the color blue
and all thier music is sung

by David Lee Roth, whose screams
they interpret as a love call, simple

it sounds like blue as it bombards
their narrow frequency, frequently

maybe a world with machines
who have no comprehension
of poetry oor music would satisfy
me, would it satisfy YOU?

 

[Maria2394]

dull, emotional poem about love and want

i really really do not want
random sex, fuck random sex
I want a man to hold me, whisper
heres something for you honey
its me and Iw ill never leave, come
let me love you, let me touch your
face, forever be my angel

 

[RhymeFairy]

her coy lil actions
causes his heart
to jump. whispered words
like those should come
from a painted mouth of red
crimson, not
his lil southern beauty. shy
glances, fan
flicks, curls bobbing as she
laughs. such contradiction
a tiger
in sheep skin ...

 

[champagne1982]

Lovely Pieces

This can be a start to the new
way I think of you
and where we can go
together.

I'm not precise in the details
it seems unsewn
like a dress still stacked
in pattern pieces.

It will be a lovely party
dress with a pearl button
closing the neck at the back,

cinched at the waist
to draw the eye up
to that scooped decollatage
and what lies behind.

This is where I want to go
come with me, and touch
this nude disguised
in a lovely dress.

 

[4degrees]

scent induces instant
salivation, a belly cramps
with hunger at the
mere thought of the
taste of perfect you.

lick away at
fate, mold it with
tongues like
ice cream, shape
this thing the
way you want it,

but don't overdo

there'd be nothing
left of you.

 

[Guest]

In silent regard, we eye each other
over egg flower soup
dim sum, sip jasmine tea.

She eats sushi with a fork
and I with chopsticks,
pick one grain of rice at a time.

This is a meal of contempt.
Grace and tolerance
makes it go down easy.

We are never satisfied,
we settle to say our good nights;
no going to bed angry.

I lie here awake
belly still growling
long after the lights go out.

She hears it. The cold space
between us stays cold,
she rolls over and goes to sleep.

 

[4degrees]

mirage of unfortunates
makes for dreaming in
schemes of reason wrong
core burnt beliefs fail
and turn round a mind
a child, perfect as the
father, no other thing
can be seen as truth when
seen with god eyes.
just like the ones you have.
eastern cuisine and
space between making us
feel teminal seperation
but it is just another
dream, and a bad one at that.

 

[vampiredust]

Don't You Just Hate Moving?

As I walk down your street,
past the cherry blossom trees
that look like women putting
powder on their faces; I think
of myself being wrapped up
in some polystrene dough, taken
from one house to another, hung
on your hooks like another of you
so-called victims, whilst you extract
everything you need from me:
my images, my memories, my chessboard

 

[vampiredust]

What's The Point Of Computers?

she'd say, tapping the ink stained
mechanical anthers before wiping
her bruised forehead with another
cloth. She'd feed it with sheets
of paper, hoping to satisfy the dream
that grows hungrier every day.
And as she looks out to the trees
blowing in the wind, she feels content
knowing her epitaph has already been
carved.

 

[vampiredust]

Finding Dickens In London, 2006

I watched you wonder
around the rain soaked
streets, as if you were
part of an illusion and
I was the magician. You
didn't have a map then
and were lost in a maze
of language that you had
never seen, never anticipated.

 

[4degrees]

etched into the deep
middle of my middle
an acid burn and ever scar
that spells out your name
longing has never gone on
so long,
instant passion happens
when my eyes break open
letting the first light in
because the first though is
always you
bungee chord love, i'm so
far out there now
pull it any tighter and
i'm sure we'll hear a loud snap
i never care
it doesn't matter
because you are my passion

 

[4degrees]

heavy with absorpt
liquid longing, a drip
turns into a pool
reserved for depletion
honed in on the sunny
side of completion
this compellation
of compulsion wrings
me right out again.

 

[flyguy69]

::

Sedge warblers chatter
in an olive tree, their sweet song as foreign
as the fountain of words
next door: honeymooners
with nothing but Italian to say.
You experiment your tongue
with Grazie when the waiter clinks
demitasse cups and a lemon peel.
A late morning breeze brings salt
and the soft rip of blue water, and the tide within me
rises as your curls wisp
forward, then back.

::

 

[vampiredust]

Never Dye Your Hair, Okay?

The waxworks' hands
slowly melt in the peroxide
bath. Intoxicated by the
smell of the serial killers tool
it continues to melt away
until there's nothing but a
porcelain mask and pantyhose
lying on the bathroom floor.

Letters and burnt celluloid
lie scattered like autumn
leaves on the bedroom floor.
Images of the 'beautiful'
are cut up, stripped of their
black stiletto sheen, exposed
and rusting.

I never imagined death would be like this

 

[sugarmountain]

So drunk room spinning
thinking of you
sexy and grinning
how 'bout you an me
planning some sinning
with what we share
we'll both end up winning

talk to me baby
tell me what you want
I can make it come true
on that you can count

I'll be here for you
these aren't just words
stay with me awhile
I'm more than you heard
let me show you how completely
passion can be stirred

gotta passion stick
waiting for you
come on take a lick
it's a bitches brew

we can revel, ball and scream
'til we come inside out
go places we've never been
make you moan and shout
feel like you boxed
a twelve round bout

we'll both be winners
no matter who's victor
who'll be able to say
"I really licked her"

 

[flyguy69]

::

Celebrate this: the wave about to dash
its brains against the crag,
its spuming flag waved high, it’s brazen dream
of flight. These few, the driven
ones discontent in their stony homes.
Even the foamy ropes
of their failure hold no lesson
for the poet. There is no art

in the silted masses, the narrow-
coursed stream following
a mapped path. Some may love
the bank’s embrace and the slow
delta, but my love is held

for that one: the one that sees
the jagged shore and leaps
wild and free, the one that yearns
to fly.

::

 

[Maria2394]

where'd they go?

for years, the ringing
in my ears, the sound
of rubber boots bouncing
one after one and all at once
that sound!

it never stopped never waned
never even slowed for a single damned day
and then poof! shazaam, abracadabra
cliche`

what happened to those little demons
that bounced around in my head all day?

abandoned by my tormentors
no less, even they want someone else
something else, to occupy their dreary day

I never thought the day would come
that I would miss them, miss them
and the rattle of their pogo sticks
as they greeted each and every day

I wanted them gone, wanted them to stay
tiny demons on pogo sticks
helped me through the lonesome days
but now theyre gone, gone, gone

simply and without a word
the devils have run away

 

[AChild]

ssssssssssshehehehehehehe

cancel cancel
the dream delete
flow not knowin'
cheese
need the melt
cream
I know such alchemy
romance a pineapple out
of her pine skin dress and watch her
shine for sweet teeth

or danger fire mix
the air itself to add value
respect and burps
flow I know
cyclone book storm
mark hart marble
sorrow saga
fire alter father
new war dogs have my
sinignia
what's to complain
fleece beats from pop writers
wish I had that magic
but I's ownly got this sap blood

I got to rub it on in whispers
is anyone flooding the point
change be real
no motive like growth
so when did you last make aim for star
turn the tv down in the span of your
intention
exhale meditating on a pin head
color in my peach fat lip
turn loose bad poetry..............
hahahaha sore
my laugh is sick lacking
slickness oil grease me with
your fire tounge turn
my dip stick pen click
I AINT AFRAID TO SAY IT MY POETRY IS AN EXTENT OF MY EGO
watch pan turn peter and fight off not institution
but simply a grown people
ha we are a christian world
well my temple has condom is the lobby
some of them are white wind socking
dropping floss

can't see my reason from here
horizon ella fitz azure mood

 

[tungtied2u]

tungtied died
disappeared beneath
a flood of tears
and drowned
they only found his words

 

[vampiredust]

Picturesque Paranoia

Mother liked it when I
when I went mad. I'd
run around the house
imitating the four year
old that I let out of me
once in a while. I scrawled
indecipherable code on the
walls whilst hollering for
the sky to shut the hell up.
I couldn't stand it then,
watching it looking at me
whilst I wrapped myself up
in my loneliness. I still haven't
let go of the blanket.