all of a sudden passion suddenly

[GuiltyPleasure]

self-imposed dilemma

I have to stop reading poetry,
it impairs my ability to write.
Not because reading prevents me
from composing but because
my confidence shrinks
in the light of the brilliance
of others. Poems that take
my breath away remove
my resolution. Seeking out
lesser works depresses
rather than bolsters.
It is my dilemma.

 

[Under_Sun]

the dog ate the crotch from my panties
I must have missed the laundry basket
last night. She must not have recognized
the scent, your scent, this strange scent
invading our home, this home.

 

[Liar]

this is pressing plastic
squares onto switches,
thumps and clicks,

graphem, phonem, morphen,
until it mimics beauty
by proxy of proximity

until you believe
I wrote/thought/bled this
like I'm supposed to

and not just shook
persistent sleep out of fingers
over plastic squares

that couldn't care less

 

[sellthecookie]

Fun with Clocks


The clock in the rain ticks hesitantly, a dying comrade
on my lap, croaking out an untimely revelation.
As my sister with the Polaroid clicks
away our waterlogged portrait, all the clock manages
is 3:16. Fingers still not quite able
to twist vows, even in death’s acquittal.
This afternoon, we kill time.

Now, the blank wall harbors a poknat,
that tiny accidental circle
of mowed scalp, a trace of guiltless deletion.
It hits Mom too late; she misses
her Korean telenovelas.

Of course
there have been the salagubang and the gumamela before.
We grind them to squeeze out the juice, dissect its smile.
The startled pistil, the embarrassed thorax. We were mad
scientists convinced with the panacea of detached
emotions.

Today, the clock is an intriguing species.
From its dry, safe wall, it ticks.
Powerful, ruthless, deadpan, very much sought
after. Dictating empty vases, broken plates, falling hair.
(Never prompt husbands.)
But in the rain, the clock is camera-conscious.

Back in the kitchen, Mom pours herself
a tall glass of instant storm.
While dawn-struck lovers on TV mismanage their words, fall
out of sync.

 

[Maria2394]

swamp water, a parasite's lament

moved....

 

[Maria2394]

poor Jenny, (no eggs ever again)

moved...

 

[Maria2394]

h5n1, advice for avoidance

Bird flu pandemic
projected to be massive
and deadly. Someone...
leave the cage door open

 

[sellthecookie]

why it is always raining in Quiapo



tilt your head
back and maybe
you'll catch the eye
of the storm
between your teeth
just as the bell tolls
eight past eight. cock
your head
to the right, and smell
the stampede of drenched cross
-bearers, with yellow pollen
belts too tight, and blue mantras
too uneven.
bow your head
and clench your fist
smelling of sweat
and imagined faith
just as the wheel
of an ice cream cart
snatches your toe, steals
your amens, the vendor
tinkling his bell, quarter to
one, as he sees fit.
there, the church bleeds out
her vinegar-soaked guests,
like naked mangoes cut
into bite-size strips.
lose your head and stay
put. dry stomachs grumble
louder than ceramic
saints can bear.

 

[RhymeFairy]

I tried not to peak


but his words, thoughts
kept me guessing, wondering
what ... Open me, see
what wonders I am hiding
to tempt 'n tease you with
lil miss fairy child.

a pressie for me, wide eyed
amazement. I do so love'm.
precious
precious
words flowed. my river
of devotion, held back only by
a mere click of the keyboard.
gates open and letters tumbled
triggering emotions, kept hidden
so well hidden, no one would know.

are we dating, talking, chatting
just skivy mates or can we
deep sea dive and never come back up for air.
hibernate in the undertow of clam bakes
and beer bongs. toss away the thong,
taking our ride on twin crescent waves
tunneling down sandcastle moats and all.

yes, he held me captivated
blue lungs grasping as heartbeats hurtled.
word by word he built me up
molded my memories, to have
and hold, near
so dear. I'm glad
I peaked. This pressie
is a keeper ~


~~buildmeupbuttercuppa

 

[Guest]

The vibrant fades to red
then paler hues, pink,
more and less, until there is no hue.

Love bleeds out when you forget
to check that small corner first,
the one hidden from view.

It runs, bleaches and eats
away at the edges.

Though mine stops because mine
isn't color fast.

 

[vampiredust]

The Unseen

Dusk quenches evening,
buses clambering through

the pitch, their lucozade
orange noses digging

constantly. Scarecrow
shadows are spread out

like clock hands, each
another direction

to places where unseen
gather. Another stop

for the hooded, faces
obscured by day. Rain

offers truth to these
men, their opened palms

clock faces pointing
northwards.

 

[sellthecookie]

purchasing power

magma thirst burbles again
inside the paper cups
of the faithful. Overnight,
we line up,
withstand the heat, all
too prepared
for eruptions like this, of
sparkling politicians
with shiny teeth. Today,
we are eager
for the smiling martyr on smelly
bill, cloned like mushroom--a meal
already guaranteed on the table.
slowly, we open our palms,
quite sure, like newly-formed
islands sleeping amok.

 

[vampiredust]

Yeltsin Dead!

Poor Boris is dead
the boys in the teacake
domed Kremlin say.
Poor Boris, I would
have liked to drink him
under the table, when
we could have played
chess together. Cavalry
would charge to the tune
of Battleship Potemkin
as he jumped ship, his
Russian dolls collapsing
with the final klaxon call.

 

[annaswirls]

with helmet

I stop pedalling hald way down the road
and push down just to
lift myself a bit from the seat
loosen my elbows
as I approach the speed bump by the university
bike rises to meet me
slowed
I have gotten a little smarter over the years
stay loose shouldered
ride it through

 

[sellthecookie]

time travel



slow-
mo, chiaroscuro
darkness
eating us,
we shoot
into a wormhole, two
stray missiles bending
space-time-logic,
to surface
on the other
side, where the sky
is just the right color
and love
is detachable

 

[annaswirls]

and this is why I come for you
always, South highway driving
sweet buckled and bass low
to find you there
soft breath risk
of tonight
star line sky line down shift
coast you are invited,
invited, the door, unlocked

 

[vampiredust]

Poem

I didn't know the trajectory
of her silence when it smashed
into my eyes, careening into acres
of brain. All I ever seem to recall
about that day was remembering
how small everything is, each passing
second feeling like lifting up a flowerpot
and finding something different
under each one.

 

[annaswirls]

it is the rain here
I have heard it turns to thunder
to hail to tornado are you sure you want to drive?
or maybe
it is the season of pollen and forced breath and I am so tired
today I am so tired baby and it is such a far drive
or maybe I just forgot to shave my legs or maybe
you showed up in sweatpants
naked underneath or maybe the cat has been skinned
enough cry and scratch
we found the gifts hidden in the closet
we have shaken them
it is time to sleep again

call me
next week
I will grow
new fur
bring your Bowie

 

[vampiredust]

Corn

There are pockets of corn
growing on the outskirts
of town. Some are thicker
than weeds, their muscly

bodies vying for space
with the original occupiers,
each long strand of witches
hair lying in gutters,

out stretched, damp.
The ears of corn are scattered
in the stomachs of foxes
and birds, each one a box

containing a general
and a battalion of troops.
Listen carefully, you can hear
them marching.

 

[sellthecookie]

trip to the river



my dad hurls me
here
& there,
like a rock, squinting
in hopes that i might
float eventually,
and learn to flap properly
although the river
is just asphalt-tar this time of the year.

water-logged, i rise and retire, none
the wiser about buoyancy. only
my head swims.
while my dad grows
roots underfoot, joins the mosquito-filled mangrove
that didn't quite make it to
the finals today


this is where sky
meets its troubled
versions, the glass wrinkling
at the slightest excuse,
me swimming
in place

 

[RhymeFairy]

it's almost time

curtains drawn, shades from the past
eerily talking. trying to picture my attention
with square eyes. real colors drift in, painting
ponies with wings, sheltering me from darkness.
cold, night fingers reach, surrounding dead dreams
making mince meat from something once
so perfect.



you see the darkness.
I feel it, live it. I forsake everything
to reach the sun
and find a mirage, seen in rose
with white picket fences,
making my picture whole.


you see spirit
I am a ghost. living, breathing
surviving off hope
given
then taken. you see my form
just not
the heart that beats, cries
to be heard. not just there,
just here
to serve your purpose.


you love
I am eternal love. not a come hither
heroine, addictive to be had
corruptive to let go. I grow
on you - take, seek your weakness
and grow off the light. while you,
feed me darkness
straining my soul - for holes
to wiggle into, take your feel
and seal your steal
with double edged ink.


...

 

[Many Feathers]

LIke you...

it's almost time

curtains drawn, shades from the past
eerily talking. trying to picture my attention
with square eyes. real colors drift in, painting
ponies with wings, sheltering me from darkness.
cold, night fingers reach, surrounding dead dreams
making mince meat from something once
so perfect.



you see the darkness.
I feel it, live it. I forsake everything
to reach the sun
and find a mirage, seen in rose
with white picket fences,
making my picture whole.


you see spirit
I am a ghost. living, breathing
surviving off hope
given
then taken. you see my form
just not
the heart that beats, cries
to be heard. not just there,
just here
to serve your purpose.


you love
I am eternal love. not a come hither
heroine, addictive to be had
corruptive to let go. I grow
on you - take, seek your weakness
and grow off the light. while you,
feed me darkness
straining my soul - for holes
to wiggle into, take your feel
and seal your steal
with double edged ink.


...

I sat on the mountain feeling the sun on my face,
praying for miracles that never came.
Wishing for the touch of her hand, the sound of her voice.
It was never meant to be.

I finally burried all that was,
emotionally, spiritually...physically
In order to stand again, breath again
And make my way down the mountain.

I may not make it back there,
but I left it as I found it. As I remembered it.
I remembered all that had happened,
and left that there as well.

I look now upon the mountain, so far away
much like the distant memories I prayed for
hoped for, wanted and remembered.
Snow covers the ground of my desires and feelings

Though the sun shines and spring brings new hope
the winter snows lay as glaciers over my heart.
Burried beneath the ice are my thoughts
there they shall forever remain now.

Summer comes, then fall.
The leaves will change just as I am.
Winter will again claim the land
and me.

 

[RhymeFairy]

I sat on the mountain feeling the sun on my face,
praying for miracles that never came.
Wishing for the touch of her hand, the sound of her voice.
It was never meant to be.

I finally burried all that was,
emotionally, spiritually...physically
In order to stand again, breath again
And make my way down the mountain.

I may not make it back there,
but I left it as I found it. As I remembered it.
I remembered all that had happened,
and left that there as well.

I look now upon the mountain, so far away
much like the distant memories I prayed for
hoped for, wanted and remembered.
Snow covers the ground of my desires and feelings

Though the sun shines and spring brings new hope
the winter snows lay as glaciers over my heart.
Burried beneath the ice are my thoughts
there they shall forever remain now.

Summer comes, then fall.
The leaves will change just as I am.
Winter will again claim the land
and me.

Winter shall claim,

yet will not give up.
This time, I stand.

Demand

he blow away, make amends
and tend to daughters who cry
for broken -- frightful fathers.
Sons, who sermon
chant on about same said hero.
who thieves in the night
while they're tucked in tight
by a soft hearted mother
who kisses every boo-boo
and softly whispers

I love you the mostest.

then, cries herself to sleep.
frightened, hurt and praying
for one small touch of Spring
to come, spread her healing touch.
Make all that's broken, whole again~


...

 

[sellthecookie]

bedfellow


sleep now
on our floral sheets, this
tundra of silence.
the bees have gone

shy, lost their sting. let's
descend
into a quicksand of petals

without names, and leave
this leafy empire
for boulders. instead
let's think

of smells: the animal ones,
amok, not rooted. our
clawed hearts and
bloodied fur,
the fertilizer.

 

[tungtied2u]

Hiding within, without
reason to be real, sanity
superfluous, veiled
masking an altered state
semi-transparent shadowed
shifting shape as necessary
to permit escape