all of a sudden passion suddenly

[3hnxs]

My friend is in pain
yet no words of comfort
come to my lips
except false bravado and trite cliche

she will not be fooled
by promises of sunshine and blue skies
covered as she is with the mud
from wading through fate's cruel quagmires

which show no favor
to rich or poor
healthy or handicapped
religiuos zealot or agnostic

all I can offer is a kindred heart
a hand to help lift, arms to comfort
and silence to mute
the shrill screams of fear

 

[Maria2394]

cooling of the coal mountain, ( late day storm)

yesterday I saw a crow
emerge from behind the coal
mountain of crushed bituminous

Crow flew towards the dam then
across and over the water, I watched
as he floated along with the wind

whether pulled by the sun
or pushed by distant, oncoming gusts
it is hard to say, but the storm

came upon us from the East
torrential rain broke
the crushing heat of afternoon

the earth grew soft and ocher red
then rivulets of black water flowed
down, down, intending to be

swallowed by the patient river

 

[Tzara]

Agoraphobia

I don't relate well
to the earth. In the open
grassland of the prairie

I feel exposed
and vulnerable and
like a dull bison in your sights.

A guy thing, probably,
but the panic hits me
like a sledge

and I thud down
and curl or I race away,
leading others

over its edge.

 

[Maria2394]

to the nesting pair
contemplating the redecoration
of the small but cozy nest
a random twig seems more
intrusive
now that the nest is blatantly empty,

that twig points at the sun and
there are random, feathers
of varying ages tucked in odd places
begging to not be forgotten

if a birdie could laugh
and if
that laugh could have a shadow
she imagined
there would be littlgirl giggles
haunting the back stairs
at sunset and shrill tickle-fights of light
breaking window panes

 

[vampiredust]

Snowstorm

Fighting my way with adjectives,
the fly eye shoes crushed noun
after noun as I fumbled for the
subjects needed to complete

my paragraph. And then I saw you,
an outline of a lighthouse in the
cold cotton sky. I felt you strip
away all these unnecessary things,

leaving the landscape of my journal
uncluttered once more. And as you
faded, I was left with a red ink rose,
blooming in a leftover verb: love.

 

[vampiredust]

Junk

Parts of a dismantled giant sit
in the front yard. Plywood hair,
foam bones. A cracked globe for
an eye. They watch people pass

them by, waiting to be scooped
up and crushed. Or if they're lucky,
put in art exhibition and reborn.
But that won't happen. Their souls

aren't worth saving. They won't go
to heaven, only feel the fire of an
artificial hell stroking them. Nobody
will watch them die.

 

[vampiredust]

Sea Rubbish

You are fishermen's illegitimate
child, a shell encrusted pauper
stuffed with unwanted entrails.

When you are cut up, nobody
will miss you. You will be thrown
back into sea and only your screams
will be reborn.

 

[annaswirls]

reading you is like setting in on a wheeled cart,
no more like a an old fashioned sled
and you wax up the metal runners
sit behind me and hold on and
down we fly and I feel every bump every
lift right off the ground it is okay
knowing your heavy boots are on the wooden handles
steering all the way through
still there in the front,
one can imagine that
they have something to do with it all
snow spray on cheeks

 

[annaswirls]

I once saw a man with a balloon
stuck part way down his throat,
not knowing if he should try to cough it up or swallow it down.

I held his blue eyes in mine and
he paused telling us how he beat spinal cancer twice,
and I blinked and he swallowed

I have come back to this poem many times,
and I never realized I had felt this before,
that is the gift to show us what we cannot see
in others and ourselves,
like a two way mirror where I see my own face
and your shadow outline as he says,
Jennifer, I would like to introduce you to Jennifer

 

[vampiredust]

Fishing near Sellafield

The giant cooling towers
stood like raised mushrooms
on the horizon, nobody
wanted to fish near them

they were cursed, the waves
said. A million voodoo dolls
had been dumped inside
and they were trying to get

rid of them in every tide.
The washed up fish crumbled
like dust, our lines were not
made of lead. We ate cancer

whole, without condiments.

 

[vampiredust]

Father's Fishing Bag

Opening up the rigid canvas
stomach, I rummage through
things I have never been taught:

spools of steel silk, syringe floats,
piles of question marks. He wants
his rusted swiss army knife buried

next to the remains of decaying
bones, its folded up pigtail glinting
in the sunlight. But I am too slow

and he dives inside, cutting himself
on a piece of rusted tail. The wound
will never heal, festering with years

of accumulated rust.

 

[vampiredust]

Break open emergency.
Enter glass. Exit

 

[vampiredust]

The silence

I watched him fill the kettle's
rusted lungs as the birds started
to leave, skipping like stones
across the water.

Sipping tea, we made poetry
not conversation that afternoon.
Both our bones had aged
but only one of us would stand

the following year. I buried him
as I left that day, the memory
he gave me burning a hole
in my wallet.

 

[RhymeFairy]

tap root
soda fizz
sparkling bubbles that drift down
pop
pop, tickling nose and cheeks alike
tapping a rooted eight by ten
that smiles all the time.
she is coy
dimpled with baby browns. sunflower
suicide by inhalation of zinging
laughter, on the wind.
a child of the earth
moon goddess at night
hopping lily pads to her next
destination. her catch me not
sing song
sugary words
drips off pink like lips
daring you
to tap
tap into her world
of make believe

 

[vampiredust]

Buying enamelware in a French flea market

Nobody is buying the enamel
today. They stand on the stalls
like unwanted puppies, their
wrinkled mouths revealing

liquorice coloured gums. Father
walks past, smiling at the sellers.
But he will not buy. It is too hot
and they are not the right colour.

They must be a shade of mustard
not honey or buttermilk. Picking up
a cookie jar, he hangs it upside
down, not hearing it squeal. It does

not have the right brand. We leave,
hearing only the scrunching of notes
in his hands. He will buy again.

 

[vampiredust]

You were born with a lung
on your back, as if someone
had sculpted you from parts
they no longer wanted,

not bothering to reassemble
you in the correct order. But
they never told you that. So
you sat in the playground,

breathing through straws,
smelling a world existing only
in colour.

 

[clutching_calliope]

To Kill a Mocking Dead

.....

 

[AChild]

Fuck words

I want to put my wet new slang
in home made icons
blood is too easy an ink now

help! i cursed love with out ending

 

[Vampiric_Mirage]

i never imagined
sprinkles of coloured candy
liberally coating my body
could be so...
so...
words fail me
as your tongue tastes my flesh
causing overwhelming sensations
to explode everywhere

how did I not think of this sooner?!?

My sweet tooth sated by your kiss
I shatter in time with them,
with you,
with the world around us...

If only we had bought more
Pop Rocks

 

[vampiredust]

Finding a wasps nest in my aunt's house

I found it nestled in the corner
of a wintering cupboard, a paper
coral made out of regurgitated
wood pulp and last month's news.

The wasps hummed their talmud
as I slept that night, I could hear
every word creeping through the
floorboards into my head.

But they wouldn't be there tomorrow.
The hooded scarecrows would flood
their home with mustard gas, under
an auspice of peace.

Like a biblical scene, they would fall;
there would be no weeping widows,
no one to sweep them up, no one
to bury them as the sky mourned.

 

[annaswirls]

amen sister!

this is one that is going to stay with me, I feel this way a lot

interviewer said
even james joyce has only one
voice
and had he written more
we’d have known

what that was
but what he really meant
is
we only have one story to tell

so harper lee
had the right idea,
i suppose.

 

[annaswirls]

someone else

I met my daughter lastn ight
well, I suppose it was the afternoon I stood
in the doorway
the blocks and blobs and
blankets blurred like some cubist take on dali
and of course I had an idea which one was mine
something about her nap matted hair
long bangs hiding her wild green eyes
but still I waited for the provider
the Provider
to lift her from the floor and bring her to me
she arched away
wanating to be put down and I froze
Is she?
the provider looked down
We think she might be.

We.
always easier to deliver the news in plural.

but my girl and I looked in the unbreakable wall mirror and she relaxed again
I made a face and she smiled
raspberries made her laugh
she was okay as long as I held her facing away
not sure who was holding her
it could be anyone

 

[annaswirls]

gmail psychic prophesy

the sponsors seem to think
we need links to cheap hotels
near the airport

even Google
thinks we should be fucking

 

[clutching_calliope]

Lady in Waiting

.....

 

[Tzara]

Mumbletypeg

Flip the bright blade earthward, feel
it thunk through split sod—the joy
of a forbidden game. Join another
delinquent who delights

in playing games with knives. Beware,
though, the dulled edge worn down
from ill-use. It may not cut
when you need to cut, and oh,

don’t hit your foot.