all of a sudden passion suddenly

[Liar]

Shirtless, glossy with sweat.
Such a sweet body
buff and taut.
Too young!
Too young!

Easily hauling heavy machinery,
muscles roped and rippling
oblivious of his beauty.
Too young!
Too young!

Side-long I glance and
he smiles white
teeth whiter
Too young!
Too young!

Is there such a thing
as a female lech?
yes, I'm one!
Too young!
Sigh! Too young!

raise your glass in salute
to a Dirty Old Man
rhe real kind, the bona fide
polluted by predator preconceptions
understandable but uncalled
here is your tribute
your poem
you harmless
harmonia wielder
with a discerning eye
a disarming chuckle
and too much spare time
on your hands

hey Dirty Old Man
what have you seen today?
did the fine legs
from two doors down
flaunt by, knowing, of course knowing
that your eyes go and you mind follows
where your hands
couldn't
shouldn't
wouldn't?

or did Mrs Simpkins, still fine as spring,
or her daughter, budding blossom,
stir your daydreams today?

a Dirty Old Man
conniseur of curves
of creamy white skin
youth, beauty, breast blush, lush
in mind's eye unwrapping
that cover
like you used to with such ease
pleasing every pretty tease
they knew you well
by reputation
if nothing else
once

and no broken back
or failing machinery
can quench a real old lover's
libido

so Dirty Old Man
gentleman to the core
but too far on the path of life
to care to hide what I assure
we all, each and everyone
now and then
feel and let our eyes linger
behind shaded glasses

 

[Randi Grail]

The ceilings in Milano are rumored
to glow
for an undecided minute
each morning
when predawn turbulence bends
like nothing really can
the light
around the horizon.

They say that
Luxor white clay and plaster walls
reflects the zenith rays
in an endless loop between
narrow streets
so that daytime shade
has not reached the deepest alleys
since the lunar passage
of an ancient eclipse.

But what do I know,
staying here,
just basking, unaware
of meterologic marvels
and radiant reflections.

You are here, you are warm,
you make children smile.

That, my sun, is all
you'll ever have to be
for me.

 

[perks]

he reminds me of my grandfather
with that knowing grin
the teasing twinkle
and sometimes incoherent conversation

I want to touch him
and I do
wondering if he knows
of my guilt
that I'm using him
to love my grandfather again
no... still.

he doesn't know how much
I need this interaction
my reaction to him
palpable and shaky
as if I've won and lost
my hero all over again
how will I be of any use then?

how can I continue
knowing.

 

[Vampiric_Mirage]

A cascade of tears
unable to hide from your heartless love
sunlight shatters
tearing my soul to pieces
All is lost
before it was even found.





I wish you told me, instead of having me read it...

 

[Angeline]

Arvil Shaw is gone.
Walked him some bass
right off the planet,
joined the rhythm section
in the soul-on-soul choir
with Mingus, Walter Page,
and the Judge, Mr. Milt Hinton.

Time rolled on by, picked
those jazzers right up with it,
sucked up the 1900s,
a century gone, Gate,
like a bop beat, snapped off,
and the wars, industry, death, birth
pound still in me, but it's ready
for twilight, but time is ready
to take it on that slow fade
to oblivion. Arvil who?

See, I can't forget their faces.
They haunt me, speak to me.
What those old jazz ghosts
want with me I don't know.
White chick, can't play a lick
of no nothin but stride, swing,
let Bechet ring his clarinet
around a southern sunset,
and those old ghosts start in
to whispering.

We're lonely baby.
Ain't hardly nobody left
to tell it. Tell it baby.

When Basie swayed
into the keys, Lord he grinned
like he just beat the Devil at a sock hop,
weaving notes and space into jump beats
that bammed his blues straight, no chaser.
Amd he'd lean back, have himself
a satisfied little taste, the music
somehow still swinging.

And when Duke, at once
so light and earthy, an Ariel
with the barest touch of Caliban,
spread the wings of his tux
over the piano bench and threw
back his sculpted head, brought
that first big chord home,
Oh sophisticated ladies stepped
with such symphonic grace,
like Fifth Avenue fashion queens,
emerging in band box sunshine
from wide plate glass windows.

I love my ghosts.
They ride around my imagination
in their old tour busses, jumbling
over the ruts of rural America and me,
gig to gig, poem to poem,
talking low, nodding. They drink
from flasks and laugh, throw craps,
wait for me to slow down
and listen.

 

[Vampiric_Mirage]

HOW COULD YOU?

a coward's retreat
unspoken words
echo across the distance
a fragile heart
tossed aside
uncaring.
For some reason
I thought you would be different...

 

[OT]

i've sipped one or two
on my way to a few
is that
a good thing or bad?

 

[OT]

The clink of your ice
sounds kinda nice
in the dark of the old front porch
I know you're out there
on a comfortable chair
I just didn't bring my own torch.

no need for fire
liquid desire
quenched with it
and you

 

[normal jean]

goodbye fantasy

you were nice, while you lasted
but I told you the I wouldnt beg
so its over. And now at night
I close my eyes and you are
mercifully gone

The sound of your voice is distant
and cold and you are finally unneeded
in my bed, in my thoughts. Your disrespect
has been tiresome, I needed a friend
I could talk to

and now I realize, that wasnt you
it was nice, when it was, but mostly
it wasn't and now I'm finished with you

 

[Eleanora Day]

When I hold you to my breast,
tip my fingers over ridges
of your spine, turn my cheek
to flutter lashes on the thatches
of your chest, lay my dreams
against the hollow of your throat,
nothing matters

there.

All the weary days of care subside,
curled quiet as bright flores sleep,
dark, as if the Sun closed its shine to rest.

When you lay buried in the cave
of our confession, tell me what you feel.
Nothing was ever wrong that feels
like love.

Call it whatever you want.

I have seen the night
shade ochre in your eyes,
the twist of lips that pleasure,
almost a sob when hips jerk
and we tremble together,
release the only freedom
we have left.

 

[JCSTREET]

THIS AFFECTED ME NORMAL JEAN

The sound of your voice is distant
and cold and you are finally unneeded
in my bed, in my thoughts. Your disrespect
has been tiresome, I needed a friend
I could talk to

I find myself rewinding my videotape at very high speed and asking the question: Who was I disrespectful to--have I reformed--have I made amends

it is chilling on the one hand--but in its shriving you of pain it is good

Carl

 

[Eleanora Day]

The night curved stars upon us like a veil
folded over the jagged scars of day.
Too dark to see your tongue against my pale
flesh settled soft around you where we lay
within the breathless murmurs of the breeze
and curtains barely moving in the chill
hour where lovers touch and take their ease
to strain against the need of each one's will.
O fallen like the apples of my breasts
into your desire. Move me, take me
out of this vale of life, where pain arrests
my joy, too often to forget and flee
into this petaled passion, garden soft,
beating with limbs like wings ascend aloft.

 

[BooMerengue]

This world is made of opposites
and is unbalanced for now
but the wheel turns slowly
and the balance returns
the healers will always out weigh the hurters
so sit and heal, my friend
and know your own outcome
but remember to pray for the hurters;
the weak ones, the addicted ones,
the ones who can only dream of being
other than what they truly are.
You are blessed with such gifts of giving,
and sharing. Fear not the poor souls
who can only hide behind their sins
using them as crutches.
they will fade back into the woodwork
as do the roaches
when the light is shone upon them.
Remember you are loved.

 

[Eleanora Day]

The waiting mouth wants biting
slow, deliberate, a plum of night
its fruit open to texture and tones
of breath drawn in, anticipating
fingertips along trails of skin, shining
in phosphorescent pinpoints bent
to the rose to you in first flush,
risen, blushed with fever, oozing
sweet, glass smooth and curved
to the waiting mouth fleshed
around the darkness in kisses.

 

[Eleanora Day]

never apologize for life washed
like love slick annointing the face
of desire the eyes that ask
for validation sketched down
a jaw or limb there is no sin
to these breathless gifts we cry
like gulls sigh out from the cracks
of fear that glue days together
never knowing when these passion
waves leave us gasping at shores
this sinless purity falls complacent
it is the tender rain of our humanity

 

[annaswirls]

It's the religion
In small things
The awareness
Of a breeze
Of waves and sand dollars
That drop of rain
That's strikes the same beat
As your dream
And wakes you up
With warm strokes
Relaxed

The smell or garlic
Or honey
Pancakes coffee
And continuation of the species
Is assured
With cream and sugar

Hold up you plate
Your drink
Offer up
Your sin
Your cigarette
Your orgasm
Blessed be
All is my religion
my temple
My mantra

and we say.........

its in the region of
small thighs
the awareness of a cool
breeze up skirt
waves that peel down bikini tops

as the boys all offer
sand dollars
to do it again

and we say

do do do do do do
do do

hey baby
take a walk
on the far side

 

[annaswirls]

it was hot
that summer.
tar melted on roofs
gum almost liquid
on sidewalks.
dog tungues
dripped
cats killed
for shade.
worms withered.
men drew knives
over parking spaces.
love-making ceased.
headline head
that panicked birds
sparked madmen
like some bad moon.
the froth of nature
tree-cracking power
to remind
all the tiny dancers
who the boss is.

bass beet vibrates
from open windows speeding from
red light
sweat drops to sidewalk
se swear it evaporated before it hit


and the girl on the stoop
across the street
feels so close she might
as wll well be lying there
on yop
on top of you
sweat gathers mixes
and multiplies

you turn heads to opposite sides
to aboid
avoid
overheated inhale


but she is not on top of you,

she is climping
and climbing into his car
you have given up on learning models

turn the fan to aim it towards the bed
open thighs to the wind
give new meaning to blow job
as smell of heat and passion
blow up into your face

and it multiplies again

 

[perks]

annaswirls inspired

train changey thing
isn't as smooth as
conjunction junction
what's your function
yeah, I remember that
how about you?
I was diverging from
cereal to sesame street
wearing pink polka dots
in the form of footy pjs
and singing along grammatically
now when I think about the path
taken and not
I realize my only regret
is missing the ride
on reading railroad

 

[Eleanora Day]

Mi querido I scent my skin with jasmine,
become a garden para tu,
spread beneath you over me
like the Sun warms Earth, like rain
coaxes ground to unfold its fecund bed,
and cup life in the valley of its palms.

Precioso I open myself like lashes curl,
flutter against the skin of your whisper,
and hold you, hold you though dying night
when dreams wake us with terrible truths.

When you shiver I say ya ya ya,
there there there, mi dulce,
cry here in this arbor of arms,
pour the ancient fear from behind
your eyes, from within the man
you are. The child you were is safe
siempre aqui amante, siempre aqui.

 

[echoes_s]

fighting back

i grabbed storm clouds
and pitched them back
directly at you this time

rigid unyielding
ramrod straight
losing terrorized denial

watching as it
spewed forth, to choke
upon your own bile

my eyes flashed
lightning glint
harsh angered defy

yet even now
still unprepared
unable to fight

no match against
your black hatred
and cruel serrated lies

 

[SeattleRain]

something willed me to paint
my walls purple,
purple hawk and
blue lilac
was it you

mouth dry eyes closed
you make me want to sing something
I never heard before
just so I can blame it on you
again

invention of me


on my knees

wondering what comes next
rise or craw



sleep

 

[Angeline]

What's a kiss after all?
Two mouths press, explore
or not, skin rubs, beings
join briefly or not validating
greeting, acceptance, need.

It's not bread on the table
or rent. It doesn't put the secret
desires of a heart back
in one's arms. It can't drive
a car or a life measured
in paychecks or coffee spoons.

It's just a momentary warmth
in a bed, under the doorway,
next to the sink. It's just
a respite, a little freedom,
a flash of human, a shelter
from the ongoing storms.

 

[Randi Grail]

I don't want to kiss you

I want to merge with your face
feed you my soul through neurons
on the tip of my tongue
and in the roof of your mouth
connecting

now sliding slipping into place
a perfect fit carved by the creator
a home for me so very close
to that brave and beautiful
mind

letting me forget to breathe
for an eyes closed minute fall
through warm soft dark to lose
track of the line beween us
separating

so that we can beat as one
and speak as one when you
invite me into that tranquil
zen garden of swirl and mist
forever


Inspired by Angeline's kiss poem...

 

[Guest]

Long limbs lengthy in repose
Long drink cool in shady condensation
Long shadows as the sun drowses
Long looks as eyes meet smiling
Long kiss as lips soften
Long night of love on tousled sheets
Long predawn shower with memories
Long ride to work.

 

[annaswirls]

leave home with
migrane brewing all day

suddenly fandgango
fandango salad
orange slices walnit gorgonzola raspberry sweet
and vinegar

oh yes, lettuce greens with red stems

g

frozen coffee drink
over sweetened
over fluffed

suddenly ovetr my headache
within minutes of returning home
headache is back..

I think I am allergic to my life