all of a sudden passion suddenly

[Tathagata]

.....

 

[echoes_s]

humbled
on knees
hands still touching
contact
and closing eyes
I realize
that feeling
to see
is more
than with sight
as I breathe
you into me
intermingling
porous pores sing
rhasphody
slight
with the turning eve
huskily sighing down
my cheek against your down
of soft skin
the beat of your heart
heard within
and we blend
a trembled soul rend
arousing heat
enveloping

 

[echoes_s]

finger dips in
hummus moon
and remembers
....the moon remembers?
....or the finger?


"and remembers" is just one of those lame ass lines
you close your eyes and passion freezes up so
you have to write something like

"and remembers"

without meaning anything

Sharpie Markers
CD covers
nothing protects it really from the wear and crack

insulation, hibernation
nothing protects it really for the draft and freeze

get a hobby
get a life
what the hell did you used to do

one seven three four
and so on

write a poem about fucking

do something

someone reach through this screen and shake
shake shake my shoulders
pinch my arm
smack my ass upside down

or maybe I will just
go sleep it all off

lol

Throwing you over my lap
and slowly start to slap
first soft to supple muscles
and bring heat
then harder with firm hand
not to sting
but sing
and quietly I say
write a poem of fucking
with lights on
eyes glued
to the perfection you see
the neglect of touch
and truth of anxiety
breathless wonder
all that you want to be
and do
the truth
step out, say
fuck the old way
in with the new
talk dirty
and run on instinctual cue

 

[WickedEve]

monotony

There is an emerald suffocation
overwhelming my valley.

I rotate in the green
to the creak and swing.

She's to and fro,
creak
and all is green.

Train whistle lulls,
endless track, creak
and green beside the rails.

There is an emerald suffocation.

 

[Liar]

when the pious wallow
the the same old mud
and the careful
crash and burn
with the rest of us
tell me

does it all amuont to
in the end
something more than
small things
piled?

do we really
count the karma
end to end
for a final
spreadsheet score?

or will it be enough
to say

hey, after all
when all things
said and done...
...a decent time
of small things piled
and I did good
and that is all

and walk
satisfied
away?

 

[WickedEve]

He Thinks He's God

How do I know?
Bo Deacon told me.
Said the psychic called the prophet.
Visions were passed between wires,
through pin holes--like breath.

The psychic saw it
but the prophet knew it
by the laying on of hands.

One touch
while the church came down
in a roar of praise.
Bo Deacon you are the one.

 

[Angeline]

Next year
when it's easier
a new cd player a brass
bed dress up dinner lobster
and silk reprieved by 364
steps into the future the past
trials over the same sky
but bluer and mudseason
dried to dust swept away
on highways rolling south

 

[echoes_s]

trial and terror of a poet

Armed with diligent
copied, stapled
highlighted paged
on format
of poetry form

a Villanelle
listed alphabetically
to do for dummies
finding the Terzanelle
close to the same
yet required
more investigation
to understand the two

Quatrains come next
3 paged instructions
on iambic pentameter
which for now baffle me

Sestina followed
with it’s scary ring
and soon I may be
speaking French again

the Rubaiyat
a Persian cat
white and purring
after tasting cream

Senryu
Haiku
erotic, kigo
Anthropomorphism
and nature
all natural?
No way!

With my head in a whirl
I wake instead
of rumpled sheets of cotton
to crumpled papers of forgotten
for one second as I laid
my head to rest
to calm this confusion
and tackle just
one poem today
but fell asleep…

 

[WickedEve]

untitled

I lament my lack of beauty
in the eyes of one who matters.
I understand my partial worth,
sexual price tag,
is determined by the width of my assets--
some horizons are too broad.

I'm sorry to be paler than light,
a fright against west coast skin.

I'm not pretty.
I'm not pretty.
He could have told me that I was pretty.

He's a kind man who'll shape me,
tone me to lustful proportions
before I'm used.

There are plans to share me
when I am perfect--

only perfection
because he'll have no less.

 

[eagleyez]

thinking of bread
its not very high fallutin bread-
cheap bread,

thinking of water
to go with the bread and
maybe some mustard,

paint it yellow
the bread shimmering
painted like gold-

thinking of water
to go with the gold,
to go with the bread.

 

[Angeline]

thinking of bread
its not very high fallutin bread-
cheap bread,

thinking of water
to go with the bread and
maybe some mustard,

paint it yellow
the bread shimmering
painted like gold-

thinking of water
to go with the gold,
to go with the bread.

Hungry again?
Son of a gun!
Dinner just finished
and there goes the
cheese if it pleases
the court I bought
that cheese yesterday
and here it is gone
away you cast your
bread upon the water
but the Diet Coke
is mine.

 

[Liar]

Robbie steps up
in his flip flop sandals
steering zig zag
through tabliod scandals

scattered torn headline pieces
on cold stone stairs
8 AM in the morning

this is Robbies hour
right after shower
and out into
a not yet
bustling street

setting boldly sail
towards a distant shore
the alabaster beaches
of blushy, bloodred lips
curvy Cathy's bakery

where a plain coffee
and whatever's fresh
will do as much
or almost as much
to put a silver lining
on Robbie's dawn cloud

as the sight
of too much Cathy
in not too much
Cathy wrapping,
generously spilling out

like the froth
in her new shiny
Cappuchino monster

so Robbie steers
his strident steps
of fifty two in body
but seventeen again
each morning

for breakfast
and a beautiful dream
over steaming coffee
with sugar and cream

 

[tarablackwood22]

missed the 'last orders' call, so....

now your city is red,
your women in black wraps.
stare
you of big fists,
the fury of hell in the streets,
air heavy still
with a child's screams
and the tears of mother.
the bodies of men stink in ditches,
wives pine on their knees.
the tiny young,
those that remain,
cower like beaten pets,
wave violent arms in the air.
stare
at the aftermath.
the land smokes
ashes float
where butterflies sought flowers.
what words now
for the dust of the dead?
pin open your eyes.
that is a sinner's penance.

 

[eagleyez]

bells and
chimes and
anniversaries and funerals and
birthdays and
maps and
tire treads
thinning out like
memory
in discs and
chunks of
time becoming
visible
as distractions
and rememberings-

they took the
green blankets off the
horses last week and the
bargain season has hit the
garden sections
if you can bring the flowers back to life
you can have em
half off.

come winter come spring and
fall and dog days
too,

the trainman puts you in your place
like a cheap watch.

tick
tock.

toodle
loo.

 

[Angeline]

I was only thirteen
you were flame
long strawberry hair
those eyes saw everything
I thought everything
could live in one heart.
Nothing is less true.

I was only seventeen,
world died so fast
and they all lied. Those funerals,
the war, and no compassion.
I don't care who said
she was a whore.
I love her still not knowing
what I graduated to or even now
how things really are.

We dropped acid threw I Ching
looked inside. I closed my eyes
against that empty world
maybe that's why you
and books seemed everything
that wasn't me

Colicky baby 3 a.m. Holding on
to that boy was antidote
to loss and I felt better
when he smiled at me.
Even now if only I could see
his eyes just for a moment
where always somewhere
lurks that recognition first seen
when they lay him on my chest
and something locked together
for eternity.

They know I love them.
Little boy so sunny and my
mean girl with her deep
and knowing eyes innocence
and wisdom oldyoung soul
like me like me she knows why
I had to leave believe that she
knows how you made the world
so cold until it froze and I
just slipped away.

 

[Linbido]

When the commotion of simply picking up
the threads from the day before
dies down,

revealing quiet walls
and the tick tock tick,
second by second,
of that oh so quiet
kitchen wall clock
that you never quite manage
to hear
normally,

I no longer do
what I always did.

Instead of cranking up
a random flip of the cd rack
or howling MTV
to drown the vile whispers out,
I let them in.

Open the windows,
already bulging from their
venom pressure,
and let them flood my mind.

Playing the good hostess,
I bid them to sit - which they don't,
and ask them to wait there.
Of course they follow,
taunting, teasing - I don't care.

Because I'm heading
where they can not go,

a universe of
me,
you,
blanket.

As I lay down
creep in under
with you,

face to sleeping face,
your tiny breath
on my nose,
and for a magic minute,
your unknowing hand in mine.

And somehow
they see that I'm busy,

and go bother
someone else.

 

[champagne1982]

If faced with defacing the home
Of citizens in this mortar shell-pocked
Shithole of a desert town
or not
Would I dare to say what I feel?
Would my morals rise up and get in the
Way of everyone else's good time?

We're taught, in battle school, to
"Dehumanize the enemy"
It makes it easier to kill them

Then some shit-in-a-suit,
Sitting in the UN
Quotes the Geneva Convention about the
"Rights of Prisoners of War"
Where was my sarge's right when
That dude used a hollowpoint bullet
To shoot him in the gut?

He got awful thirsty before the medics
loaded him into the chopper.

I think I can
I wanna think I won't
fuck it.
I likely will.

 

[Maria2394]

after reading Eve's new poetry---

I wanted to tell you
that you write like I want to write-
tell the world about people I know
and grew up and older with
out in the open, like real folks
who just didn't get enough school
in their younger years

I had a great-grandpa, so I was told
he saw the future long ago
and it scared him, visions he swore
would torment old Satan himself

and he told the wildest tales
of people who could see far away without eyes and people who lived in boxes and could fly
Daddy said, "great grandpa knew he was special"
just didn't know why

Papa died when I was three and a half
the half is important because when you're little
even a half year is worth counting
and he would sneak to the house
where greatgrandpa with the Gift used to live
and tell me we were running away

I had a little orange suitcase
packed full with things
I probably wouldn't need next door
at Granny's little green house
but it was okay, I was the princess
**for three and a half years**

Papa let me count his pennies
I could keep the ones with Indian heads
and in 1966 there were still a few
of those being passed around

did I tell you he was a sheriff?
I remember riding in his car
Galaxy 500, Ford police cruiser
intercept engine now rusted
in my uncles back yard

and so I realize, I too am growing old
and people I loved are dead or about to die--
when related to life in context of time
they are alive, somewhere deep inside
I have managed to keep them all alive
despite the fickle natures
of life and loss and time

 

[Zanzibar]

Whirlwind

Whirlwind
Like a tornado
Sudden, Violent, Unstoppable
You appeared in my life
Unchained, Adrift, Uncertain
You uprooted everything I knew
Chaos, Energy, Turbulence
You sucked me out of my rut
Fury, Fire, Explosiveness
You tore down my barriers
Vanish, Emptyness, Silence
You disappeared and I'm alone
Ashes, Sorrow, Loneliness
I search what I had lost
Explorative, Introspective, Thirsty
I realize this starts a new beginning
Joy, Awareness, Rebirth
I am reborn with a new life
Rainbow


(edited to fix a formatting problem when I submited it. Silly html codes)

 

[Maria2394]

funny isn't always

funny isn't always
a comedy is hilarious
until someone gets hurt
then comedy of errors
laughs in the face
of all thats holy Bat man
and shit can cows
really can fly
like psycho Sally Fields
wearing habit, in the sky
is falling, Henny Penny blurted out
wildly spewing grain
and Harry Potter laughed
so hard he vaporized his brain
and that my friend, so isn't funny
but it truly is comedic
wouldn't you agree?

 

[Angeline]

You can't be
gone. You can't because we never
had time to meet and my plan
was to just drive one day west
through all those bits of effluvia,
geography between us like fog.

Hello, you said my name is,
and I live in a fog,
and I love jazz, too.

You made me laugh
when I didn't want to
ever again, but we did
for two years, talking between
the gulps, the giggles.

Oh we understood each other,
that burn to write, make art
always a torch passed between
our hands.

Did you know how many
poems I wrote for you?
So many, sweetheart.

You were my inspiration
when so few ever reach
me really sometimes I feel
like everyone dies before I
have a chance to I don't
even know what but too soon,
it's always too soon.

I would have taught you
Shakespeare, Eliot, Blake.
I would have read with you
like we planned, like the phone
conversations--

One more poem. We'll read
one more poem together,
then hang up.

That New Year's Eve we talked
all night, and in the morning
you took the phone outside,
brushed it over grass and said
Listen, and I did. You walked
to the pond and splashed water,
and said Listen. I heard you.
I heard you always, but now
I just hear me crying. I'm not sure
you understood how much
I love you.

 

[Merrymaker]

Late night tv blare
Company for tired inclinations
Lulled by memory's promised land
And that blonde with her twitching nose

Meanwhile
The sandman stays at arms length
Eased into retro submission
Under laughtrack's jangling spell

Annoying commercial, distraction at last
Time to brew me a double salvation
Sleepytime tea to the rescue
Clean sheets are calling my name.

 

[Liar]

peeling myself away
in front of your eyes
stripping away the costume
you've wrapped me in
shaking loose the words
you've imprisoned me with
to reveal
simply
me
and you are horrified to be staring
at your own reflection

Good one!


.....

strip
this
shit

down to digits

intention
nothing more

me
washed clean
of mud
that became
decades ago
a sheild

almost
but only
almost

merged
with my skin

you
distilled

venom
boiled dry
acid evaporated
knives aside
claws filed
down

kill
your piranha
and i'll kill
my pariah

so that we
so close
for so long

can meet
and feel

finally

 

[Angeline]

This sadness is crushing
me I need to shower cook
I need to love or sleep what
I need is to talk to you hear
some goofy joke reassurance
tomorrow will come go

without photos note anymore
nobody knew you were more
than a nice man someone
in the neighborhood someone
friendly handy someone

and now all these poems
your genius, your legacy qued
in a still line of whispers they
are whispering to me and I
need to hold them close find
some way to save this piece

of you

 

[Angeline]

I am sorry
I did not mean the thread sucks
I meant that the fact that there has to be a thread sucks

it makes it real
and I am not ready
for it to be real

silly girl
of course it sucks
and I
suck for doing it
but what else
is there to do
when it happens
happens happens
and you don't even
know
how many times
I've been here
love-loss threads
my life together
emotional peak
trough is good
experience
but only for poetry
it sucks for life i wish
it were a hoax and
some star wish could
work but i don't do that
anymore just move write
love sleep hello goodbye
yeats understood perne
he said in a gyre circle
just spins and you're
either the hub or the
wheel runs you down.