all of a sudden passion suddenly

[vampiredust]

Fog

I watch the fog chase
the buses' rubber hem,
canoodling with cloudy
pollutants. It obscures

landscapes I once knew:
the empty hill, the river,
the skyscrapers grazing
above the city limits.

And as the journey ends,
all that I am left with is
my journal and a landscape
that existed only in dreams.

 

[RhymeFairy]

I pretend pretend pretend to remember how to find the words
to find that place in myself
that is not even myself
imagine if I find the right new wonderfuck
that I will remember
how to feel
down into the carpet fibers
how to be the water that steals heat from toes
sometimes I remember words
peninsula
parchment
christmas morning of course I am still there
I pretend I can still pull words kicked from the feeder
mourning dove collector
criss cross connected we tie again
and again
I remember when I used to be able to make you slip up
and let me win
when I believed that I held you
but I see you lie so lightly in all the pretty palms

for years I would not let the sore on the inside of my cheek healit was a nervous habit
chewing chewing chewing myself from the inside
to feel in progress

champhor menthol cottonball
I promised myself I would not chase after you
now while I can still see the octogan prints on my skin
where yo utold me to stop
stop
stop

and yes this is about you
of course it is about you
and he comes in sometimes and I pause
it is bad manners to mix men in a poem, isnt it?
at the very least risky

so can I write here
I am done with you done with you done with you motherfucker
and mean
no
not you
but him
and he keeps creepiing in I left a trail so he could find me
right into my brain
salt and pepper crumbs
I gargle him down and spit
he is not you

we all want to be wanted
yeah yeah tether me in
life jacket tie

something between my mind and fingers redirects my words
I left my spontaneity in arkansas
someone give it back

awesome free style here ~

I get it, so many should eh ~

it ~!!

 

[Tzara]

I'm So Not Sleeping with the Stars

Come October, the highest bidder can sleep in Cher’s bed.
—Associated Press

Finally, after years of longing,

I can sleep in Cher's bed. If
I can win the bid at Sotheby's
or Julien's, whichever has it. Yeah,

I know it's not with her, but she's what,
sixty? Well, I'm not that far behind but
anyway, realistically,

think about it. It's just a mattress
and perhaps a box spring. Probably
not the sheets (those, I might bid on)

and she ain't coming with 'em. But then
I never took to her tatoos and, frankly,
when I think about it, I'm happy

as it is. No paparazzi
hang around and try to snap me, I'm not
in People, I don't have to

fend off interviews. Okay. I guess
I'm lucky, ducks, to be in love with you.
The sun is down. It's getting dark.

I'm feeling sleepy. Are you too?

 

[4degrees]

pensive, posing
prosey lineage morphing,
evaporating into barely visible
blue lines of low current

plug this in to your brain, baby

intercontinental strobe-stroke
reflecting upon a billion tiny mirrors
a solar sized disco ball
hanging above a dirty life dance club
beats vibrate to the bone
wet gyrations of flesh, slick
friction, the sum of some kind
of alien creation
ration this portion of homeo-
pathetic drunk dancing notion
sweat-and-blood magic potion
everytime we touch
more of you becomes me

lets dance, shall we?

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

I'm so tired of crying over you
Your word spill out like
daggers drawing blood from unseen wounds
that only bleed tears
of salty water.

I'm so worn and exhausted
trying to hang on every word you speak
clawing, tearing trying to please you
when you toss it back in my face
and laugh.

I'm so drained of fight
I have so little left in me
there is none
I can't do it any more
I'm finished
You win
once more I have to forgive.

I'm so weary
of forgiving
only to see it happen again
and again.

I'm so tired of crying over you
and I wish that for one moment
in time
I couldn't
feel...

 

[vampiredust]

I'm So Not Sleeping with the Stars

Come October, the highest bidder can sleep in Cher’s bed.
—Associated Press

Finally, after years of longing,

I can sleep in Cher's bed. If
I can win the bid at Sotheby's
or Julien's, whichever has it. Yeah,

I know it's not with her, but she's what,
sixty? Well, I'm not that far behind but
anyway, realistically,

think about it. It's just a mattress
and perhaps a box spring. Probably
not the sheets (those, I might bid on)

and she ain't coming with 'em. But then
I never took to her tatoos and, frankly,
when I think about it, I'm happy

as it is. No paparazzi
hang around and try to snap me, I'm not
in People, I don't have to

fend off interviews. Okay. I guess
I'm lucky, ducks, to be in love with you.
The sun is down. It's getting dark.

I'm feeling sleepy. Are you too?

this. Your wit gets to me everytime

 

[vampiredust]

******

 

[vampiredust]

Los Cucos

Mother had a cousin
who used to bury her
pants in the beach
when she was five,

listening to the waves
cry out cuckoo, cuckoo
as if she was a bird
who saw nests as places

not to leave but rearrange.
I know if I go to that beach,
I will find her pants, spread
out like minature kites; waiting

to be flown by the sea, crying
cuckoo, cuckoo at everything
that opens its mouth.

-------
n.b cucos is Andalusian slang for pants

 

[vampiredust]

Stomach

You are my buried child,
a tightly wound nautilus
shell tucked neatly under
those parts of me I'd not

think about, let alone say
out loud in front of others.
I hear you in my dreams,
never digesting the things

I gave you to eat; floating
like unsinkable boats on your
sea. Nothing will dissolve them,
this much I know.

 

[champagne1982]

a stuttering of footsteps as high
stillettoes clip off good nights
and yes I won't be late, we trip
down the stairs and ride out
in the ease that money buys

before it all realizes a crash
is but a day away and tonight
those heels are dangerous
as curves in the highway swooping
into midnight and beyond

waits a footstool waiting for the click
of stutters to cease and rest
cradled in the luxury
that money bought for now.

 

[Maria2394]

incredible dancing Darla

she was born with a pole
between her legs
no not that kind of pole
most men thought
she was hot and she was
but not that kind of hot
her mama said she burned
her inner thighs
on her way out and she screamed
and Darla wiggled
before she was washed
clean of her mama

a touch would bring
ecstacy, if given the chance
and from the age of two
that baby could dance
on table tops and stages
a natural show it all
she was destined
for greatness, everyone saw
the talent in that girl
the way she swayed
when she walked

that Darla was born
with apole
between her legs, no
not that kind of pole
and when she was eighteen
she left home
for the great white way
where she promptly lost
her way, and found herself
stripping to the sounds
of Godsmack and ac/dc
as strange men looked on

 

[vampiredust]

Typewriter

My poetry would stutter every
time I played it on her keys,
shifting right to left, left to right
with a cha-ching, cha-ching

accompanying every composed
syllable. Sometimes she would
hear the voice of God filling
her lungs and she would collapse

in a seizure, her lips overflowing
with black ink. But she is gone now
and I only hear her when I sleep;
the chattering of her keys hammering

a lullaby in the back of my head.

 

[vampiredust]

Ironing

I watch Mother mow creases
on cotton fields, pushing the
iron's bony handle over every
corner. Its porpoise nose dips

as she misses a spot, hissing
steam to get her attention;
the gils on the side of its body
slowly resetting as the red eye

glows. The condensed memories
stored in its tank slowly turn back
to liquid as she finishes. But looking
at the sheet, I can see its mark:

a jet black maelstrom branded on
the fibers.

Nothing will remove this mark.

 

[vampiredust]

Birthday

Wandering past rubbish
sacks inflated like stuffed
stomachs, I can hear vents
whispering their poetry as I

walk on my way to you.
Everything is calling me to you,
as if they have already
anticipated all that will happen.

Passing a group of workmen
excavating the pavement, I watch
them for a second, laying out
the slabs like museum pieces;

each one reminding me of
a different part of you. But I am
late. Wandering past the row
of oaks obscuring the houses

with their arms, I know I am close
but further away. Even when I sit
and watch your words weep, you
are not near. We are fading ghosts.

 

[vampiredust]

Alcoholism

You know when it hits
when the bird you've
been carrying under
your arm starts to peck

and bulges appear in
its nylon belly. Reaching
inside, you don't find
stars but pieces of crushed

whiskey glass. You don't
bleed when you empty
the umbrella, watching
the plexiglass coloured rain

fall; each one a mantra
for a promise you never
bothered to read, let alone
understand.

 

[vampiredust]

The houses look like ghosts
tonight as I walk past them,
ignoring the one-eyed vulture
watching me. Shadows of

people who were once men
crawl in the doorways, wrapped
in a cocoon of newspaper
and cardboard. Other shadows

sit outside blocks of flats,
holding their lives in their hands.
I can see them slowly dissapear,
hearing only their feint poetry

as they slither into the drain.

 

[flyguy69]

a stuttering of footsteps as high
stillettoes clip off good nights
and yes I won't be late, we trip
down the stairs and ride out
in the ease that money buys

before it all realizes a crash
is but a day away and tonight
those heels are dangerous
as curves in the highway swooping
into midnight and beyond

waits a footstool waiting for the click
of stutters to cease and rest
cradled in the luxury
that money bought for now.

First Melody Lacina (by way of RainMan) and now you. I'm developing a shoe fetish!

 

[clutching_calliope]

Summer Lake Sky

.....

 

[vampiredust]

Early autumn
sniffs at the lip
of decomposition

and broken clouds.
A steel dragonfly
drawn in
absurd proportions

buzzes
through those clouds
rippling the air
like an edged stone

skipped
on the summer lake.
Even the blue-bottles
make waves

that crash
in mutinous
symphonies
in the still air.

This is really nice, Calli

 

[Maria2394]

undergrowth

the kudzu
is climbing, up, up
shingles
have become earthen
ears for the lady
to grasp
as she rasps
how hot, how hot
come let me cool
you, fan you with
my creeping tongue
up she grows, she clings
she grows, and no one
notices the crumple
of roots
peeking above the soil
provides a home
for ivy and jasmine
kudzu hot
ground cover,
cool

 

[clutching_calliope]

Dangerous Ones

......

 

[Tzara]

There are certain letters
I was told to be careful around. . .

U R G·R·8. I·M M·A·Z·D.

 

[Maria2394]

neighborhood cons

they're cute alright
big grins and hey how are ya's
the tall one tells me I have
a nice shirt, thanks I say
and remember,
they're all a bunch of cons
and i wont fall for that

even i know
one smile leads to another
and soon enough
it overwhelms
ardent admireres surrounding.
Theyre cute alright
but theyre all a bunch of cons
and i wont fall for that

I wonder at times
if their mams have any idea
what type offspring they've born
the way they learn to manipulate,
at such an early age. They're all
a bunch of dolls,
but I wont fall for that

Because I remember how
at nine years old, I saw
the most handsome boy, his name
Randy Foy, my heart swelled
to the size of a basketball.
It didnt take long to learn
how to get what I wanted
with a turn
of the head or a well-placed
fake fall.

Us girls? Were all a bunch of cons
you should be well aware
of that






~~

i havent lived in an actual neighborhood in 12 years. there are so many kids around here it scares me sometimes. the little neighborhood girls are the worst, so far

 

[RhymeFairy]

There are times
when I just want to get lost
in the moonlight.

A quiet walk, alone at night
trees whispering, sliding along
my arm as I pass by.

I can feel
the moons glow
revitalizing my energy.
Taste the wind
as it drinks my form
and spit washes my body.

I see the lake not far off. Calling
for me to toe dip and relax.
Frogs groggily waking up, croaking
their days memoirs off, one by one.
No birds out tonight. I suppose
nesting from a hard days hunt.

Lying back, feet immersed in
the cool mountain water, I think
what a wonderful place to be.
Wishing I could just stay
in this one moment
this soul cleansing experience
forever.

I am one with the earth
and wind. This is my dream.
This is my place in time
to be ... just be ~

 

[vampiredust]

I am vertical

I am vertical sometimes
like the trees standing
like jagged lightning teeth
on the pavement

I like to walk straight
and feel the wind jingle
my bones as if I am a walking
wind chime

But that is sometimes
and I am horizontal most times,
a nest of rubbish squatting
below your eyeline.