all of a sudden passion suddenly

[skittles_lm]

3:21
am.
the Homo Erectus crossed
the street,
toed the lines, super
-fragilely, fatalistically flirted
with safety.

And, upon reaching
the Other
side,
became a misnomer

this is awesome. Thanks for sharing!

 

[darkerdreamer]

Potatoess

From the Emerald Isle
to Idaho,
She is there.
In fields of brown
and gold,
She is there.
(wo)Manning her
vegetative fortress,
seeing with many eyes,
The Potatoess is there.

(there you go ws1, all of a sudden potatoesses, suddenly.)

 

[SeattleRain]

yeah it was the same thing with the 45
Mindy had a way
of linking things like that

we never fit and that plastic yellow adapter
was never there when we needed it

I clicked her speed to 33.3
slow drip IV

Yeah, it is hard to break up
in a place called the Love Blender
lord knows
we all just want a turn

 

[SeattleRain]

it starts when they tell you
"your child is broken"
first you deny the cracks
then you hide in them
to escape the blame eye glares
in the pasta aisle where his illness
seeps
through the cart
leaving another thing for them to clean up
another thing for me to slip on

it starts when they tell you
you are broken
you wind up in another room
you start to look for things to hold together,
things to control
things to fix
things to make whole

we sit kama sutra style
on his bachleor bed
like the pornograohic king and queen card
I found on the streets of philadelphia

legs stretched out I stay dressed
I find his oils
his spaces
as his face becomes my own
my fingers hold his pleasure
I break him down
time his release
my movements mean something
immediate
accurate

it starts when they tell you
your child is broken
you find anything that promises
to let you have control
and you take it
and take it
and take it

 

[vampiredust]

Transcript

Each breath ticks off words
on her checklist.
Saw Wicked the musical. Tick.
Stint at Foreign Office. Tick.
Travels to Bali and Maldives. Tick.

Bristol is so cosmopolitan,
she says, thinking of the kids
on the council estates she passes
on her way to uni, little foxes
peering underneath orange hoods.

The journey is like being in Northern
Ireland, she thinks: crossing
different checkpoints, being searched
by men interested in things
they could never quite afford. Tick.

She passes a tramp scouring
for cigarette butts on the pavement,
like a chimp digging out termites
from a nest with a stick,
the smell of sick in the back of her throat
coming to the surface. Tick.

It is raining when she leaves the bus.
Huddling night, she steps into the bar
and orders something strong,
pulling back a red curtain in her head
and confessing her sins to the barman,

who cocks his head but never listens,
his checklist already finished long ago.

 

[skittles_lm]

Transcript

Each breath ticks off words
on her checklist.
Saw Wicked the musical. Tick.
Stint at Foreign Office. Tick.
Travels to Bali and Maldives. Tick.

Bristol is so cosmopolitan,
she says, thinking of the kids
on the council estates she passes
on her way to uni, little foxes
peering underneath orange hoods.

The journey is like being in Northern
Ireland, she thinks: crossing
different checkpoints, being searched
by men interested in things
they could never quite afford. Tick.

She passes a tramp scouring
for cigarette butts on the pavement,
like a chimp digging out termites
from a nest with a stick,
the smell of sick in the back of her throat
coming to the surface. Tick.

It is raining when she leaves the bus.
Huddling night, she steps into the bar
and orders something strong,
pulling back a red curtain in her head
and confessing her sins to the barman,

who cocks his head but never listens,
his checklist already finished long ago.

Wow. I freaking loved this! Esp

She passes a tramp scouring
for cigarette butts on the pavement,
like a chimp digging out termites
from a nest with a stick,
the smell of sick in the back of her throat
coming to the surface. Tick.


Perfectly done. Very impressive.
Thanks for sharing!

 

[vampiredust]

thank you

 

[skittles_lm]

thank you

hell, don't thank me! Just keep writing so I can keep reading!

You put me to shame, and I am pretty egomaniacal about my writing

 

[vampiredust]

Waypoint

The blind sheriff doesn't know
the way to the Greyhound
station. No-one does here,
not even the sun shedding

its skin above the diner.
Flies drone in doorways,
playing had with the dogs.
They yawn, panting happily

at the sight of clouds hanging
above a range of mountains
somewhere in the east.
Folding up the map, you tie

your boots around your waist
and walk on the road towards
them, wanting to be converted
to whatever cause that sign

will lead to. The thought of it
disappearing hasn't even been
considered yet.

 

[tungtied2u]

I am full of half thought
unfinished business, a list
of needs unmet, desires unanswered

I am unpepared in follow through
my maps creased until torn
dead end roads with circular detours

I am longing for the short haul
to find deliverance by brevity
an early end to interminable tomorrows

Monday I meet the fortune teller
who reads black and white,
divines days and nights
will tell me when the pain ends

 

[Guest]

They have tests, rules and regulations
to keep you in check, that means
no fuck-ups, Jack.

But you do, we all do.
We let things slide from time to time,
even important things,
life-saving, safety measures.

Seat-belts and reduced speeds
keep our butts in our seats,
while CLIA makes sure labs don't mistake
cancer for a bad case of hemorrhoids.

Sometimes though, we forget,
don't fasten belts, drive a little faster
than we really should. Sometimes,
human errors are made from the start
and suspect shit cards are lost.

Sometimes we wreck,
have accidents but we always
remember to have on clean underwear.
We all know momma was right.

 

[vampiredust]

Fragments

*
Eyes, taken from an image
of a dead albatross, rolled back
*
It huddles the sea air
*
I am unfamiliar with that red
spot on its side. John Dory?
*
I have bled so much
since you left
*
I caught it this morning

 

[vampiredust]

Hare

There was a hare present
when Jesus was carrying
his cross to his crucifixion,

following in the shadows
of centurions and women
accompanying him.

Sometimes it would stop
to chew thorny bushes
growing alongside the road,

never tasting their small
yellow flowers, wanting
to only feel the blood

in its throat, so it could
understand pain. When Jesus
died it never spat them out,

keeping them in its stomach
for generations. Even now,
there are holes in the leverets'

being born,
stigmata for Aesop's fool.

 

[vampiredust]

Q & A

What are baby hares called?
Leverets
Why do they exist?

to crawl under the barbed wire
Who eats them?
Foxes, man, Foxes

Why are they shot?
There are too many. There
are just too many.

 

[vampiredust]

Scamper

The headland is covered
in fog tonight. Halogen
searchlights run fingers
on heather brushing

against the evening breeze.
Foxes scamper back
into their bolt holes
as men start an ascent

up a cliff face, startling
birds nesting in crudely
chipped nests, cawing
as boots scrape away

another lay of alabaster
skin. Footprints linger
in air, colouring it brown
with mud particles.

Nothing falls or slips,
just held, the motion tight
before a quick release
to the female sea.

 

[4degrees]

anesthetise, slit-eyes
roll up into dark while
a hammering ensues
take away my difficulties
i pray it daily
but feel it only
when my god fuck
answers
return to reason and
existing only because
he does
tendrils, no tentacles of
a tempestuous passion
wriggle deeply again
into each valve of
my heart, performing
some invasive damnation
that subsequently
saves me again.

 

[sellthecookie]

this is awesome. Thanks for sharing!

thanks !!
or no thanks, [having read what your told vampiredust about not thanking you.]


kidding.

 

[champagne1982]

Camera?

Adam decided ugliness
tightly gripped the frame.
A body ready to capture
a point and shoot moment.

Time slows and exquisite
seconds pass in a stop
frame staccato. Light
lasers down the barrel
and gleams off the rifling

twisting down a spiral
until the director screams
into his face, Action!.

 

[sellthecookie]

litmus


i turn blue
like a star in its dwarf
stage, startled, unable
to believe its own
mechanisms, a little shy
at your hips
and your deeply pulsating
immaculate red

yes, i turn red
at the slightest
touch of you, a blushing
of a kid caught
with forbidden
candy, a gushing
forth of slit wrists, oh
this blood compact
i long for
each night when car
headlights skip a beat.

 

[vampiredust]

Orphans

The day is full of orphans:
Smirnoff glass, orphaned
by the sea, washes up
on the shingle. Gulls mew,
picking apart the pieces

like miners searching
for one last stream of gold
or nickel. On the headland,
a smattering of thistles
becomes caught in heather.

The wind presses the orphans
to move on and they roll across
an invisible road. Abandoned
light rummages through
an empty cottage near the bay,

uncovering colonies of orphaned
dust underneath an old dresser
and dissected sofa. They float
in its rays. This is where
all that is unwanted end up:

not to be perished in the daily
cycle of life, but remoulded
in that which first created
the universe: an orphan.

 

[vampiredust]

Road

Once a road stops,
it carries on
in the wilderness
of the mind.

Those things seen
are organised
in brain albums,

dusted off
by a projectionist
when we are gone,
shown to a new

audience undertaking
the same journey
but without your
comforts.

 

[sellthecookie]

vanilla

under your scientist's probing lamp
light, my ice cream melts,
and drips, and runs, a naughty
lava flow, forming gashes
in our wrists, turning
fingers sticky
with sweat, till we're
breathless, sated, soiled
in the lips, gnarled craters
of volcanoes much too self
-destructive, or
is this what
they call just
desserts?

 

[annaswirls]

new sign at the school

it must be the wheels
number perhaps or just position?
it couldn't be the people
who make them roll, could it?

no one ever posts a sign
forbidding unicycles or strollers
we all love clowns and babies
painted ponies encouraged
rattle me back
you can walk
just do not stand in one place
for too long

 

[vampiredust]

Writing the love poem

We'll chart our love
on spreadsheets,
peer review it for errors
and plot potential outcomes
before throwing the data
in the sea between our two
hearts, picking up
whatever comes back.

 

[annaswirls]

it is okay
you don't have to like my grocery list either
but it works
it works
it works for me
putting down the record
like animal tracks in the mud
see? and here is where they met
scuffled and went their separate ways
hmm look
I think this one has a limp
see how her back paw kind of drags

I need to buy new hardware for the bedroom drapes
put it on the list