all of a sudden passion suddenly

[eagleyez]

Dixie Surprise-

the smog is no coincidence-
oil leaks wreak in speckled dirt driveways
littered with short butts like stars under a catch it if you can
quiet moment-illumination of white into light blue...parked it straight this time. good boy-paying atention. What a moon.

but hell, you see the Uncles rusted Dodge Caravan and Kiddy scooters slung down in the peas and the beans-

quiet moment and grand plans deeperly huddled in instant surrender, "aww fuck" i whisper as nervous grandpa comes out and say's "I smell somethin." I look down and let the music play as the tailights rattle but he comes to the window and looks like a cop, and I smell bbq chicken, smoke and shoes visible down under the pressured treated lines.

and auntie comes out and proclaims "Gene split his pants pickin up the baabee." Then in that same Georgia flutter, she says, "got a light?" and makes me promise I wont tell Uncle shes puffin a cig.

My accelerator pedal leg is numb.
Raced home to you.

Bet now, I bet I end up blowing up ballons.
Searching for that sparkle forever.

 

[Angeline]

Peace checkered small voice
and deep clicking red black

I'm in a bit of a pickle
red black black

getting darker out
and twelve strings sliding
us into the night

There's places I can move
but I'm trying to think

about the moment
the very one right here
I can cakewalk it
straight up to the next
sliding criss-cross over squares

I moved Dad

Ok I'll just read the board

or the window, the night
jumping into the sky, kinged.

 

[Angeline]

This poem for rent
filling in space fullfilling
the contractual mandate
of passion and thread
or the moderator copolas
of which I am one but mainly
for Douglas who would not
know whether to laugh
or fume at this brashness.

 

[perks]

that won't save you
from the sting
of the scorpion
every action deserving
of venom
and if you thought
it was a lark
then your whistle
is off key
and if you see me
don't graffiti
my eyes
with public apologies
I felt your lies
on my lips
your deceit
when I held
your love new
between my fingers
and now
I need an antibacterial
a shot of something
preferably intoxicating
and everything that
will cure me
of your
game

 

[The Mutt]

Mama's kiss was medicine
healing
skinned knees
bruised egos
Donna's kiss was poison
burning
choking
Your kiss is food
sweet
nourishing
life giving
kiss it
make it better.

 

[Mia Moore]

sultry spider spins her tales
and every insect glistens
a warbled word pie prison,
they know they are her victims
yet they trample highways
across a blue oblivion
to be her dinner feast

 

[Eleanora Day]

Now again the night is sentinal.
Curtains flicker their small nods,
approving us as we complete

the darkness, blooming in the first
brush of lips, smooth petals, winged
unfolding to grasp the taste.

Stars glow in our mouths, falling rising
chest in restless flutter. We are birds,
roused from the nest, awakening

to undo, release, trail essence
sucked from skin like nectar
to take flight, take me on you,

over you, locked at chackras.
Souls join hips, foreheads, mouths
murmur so good. Amante this pull

and push aches sweet when we
swallow the pulse of life, poised
like animals, lifted in your hands.

We are cerebral. We are beyond
reason, awash in sigh, cresting,
drenched in moonlit humanity.

 

[OpheliaQuieroz]

So tell me

My skin
is velvet
soft
tight
and mostly tanned
but pink and white in places

How can
the white bits
make you go all stupid?
make your blood rush south?

 

[Angeline]

Mr Jay McShann
hired Charlie Parker,
Bird, the stone soul-swinging
jazz Icarus whose rise to the sun
dropped him to the gutter,

call it a grand bedroom in Paris,
the estate of some minor royal
patron but in a wider sense
a gutter if you can't be called
Mr or pee in the men's room
in your own town so you fly
with needles maybe eyes
rolling mad and ax blown
in frenzied staccato fantasies
or dripped in moan smooth ballads

it's all blues you get blown
every which way but some people
just don't seem to comprehend
that even this desecration
of spirit produces infinite beauty

Mr McShann said ysee the blues
is not about feelin bad; it's a way
to get feelin good, and Papa Jo
said Jazz is our religion
which makes Bird a martyr
sacred sacred

 

[Eleanora Day]

Pull me on you.
Say I want that.
Take it. It's yours.
Say I'm yours.
Take me. You are.
You are mine.

Unwrap me.
I'm your gift.

Unfold me, open me
like origami, like flowers.
Bury your face in woman petals.
Drink the morning's dew,
and mingle us with kiss.

Watch my eyes. Whisper
all my secret names,
drown in the essence
no others can create.

Swallow us. No more world
remains but breeze and breath,
the sea crying, silent
on the private strand.

 

[Liar]

the spaniard on my balcony
smoking irregular laughs
and regular Marlboros
in a trembling-on-the-trampoline
try-me-out conversation
with a fresh fabulous face
from some other unnamed nation,
delectably displayed ebony curves
inside a cock-tease cocktail mini dress
too well dressed for this occation
buy why would we mind?

we who sit snuggled up
on the sofa inside
cracking puns like dammit
downing shots and potato chips
in equal amounts
she, she, he
all but names to me
when names are only gibberish
ungrippalble phonetics
so exotic
it is all the same to me

I'm better with faces anyhow.

A saturday night in my neighborhood
when korean Kitty
(not her name but everyone's
loving cat-call - and she purrs)
squeals with laughter in the hallway
attacked with ticking fingers
attached to Peter
(yes, that's his name)
the former Neo-Nazi converted by love
for Jasmin (olive skinned Syrian, dancing
like tomorrow never mattered)
who is not here anymore
but moved east

like they always to
when xenophobia takes cold hold
of neighboring hearts

and we raise our hands
(in so many hues)
and bottles in a silent toast
to pray her back

she will not be alone
and it will not be too late
this time


(typo edited, so spank me)

 

[champagne1982]

Motionless waiting, without a breeze
to spin the cobwebs with wind's fingers,
into one silken thread.

Flowing water, meandering
around corners only to find a new path,
leaving behind an oxbow lake.

Meadows larksong lifted in the morning light,
just as the dew lifts from the clover,
still hiding beneath the rose bushes' shadows.

My smile, twisted on my lips
in a potent welcome. Almost noon
and I'm hungry. Whet my appetite
as you tease my lips. Stir my juices
while wind's fingers trace hello on my skin.

Motionless waiting, without a lover
to comb my hair through those fingers,
smoothing out the night's snags.

Flowing water as it sluices
over curves, only to find its way down
the drain, leaving behind droplets.

My heartsong lifts to the heavens
as your face invades my thoughts,
indelible as the ink on a page.

A smile of happiness waits
to welcome my potent lover.
Whetting my appetite,
stirring my juices,
tracing hello on my skin,
teasing my lips with wind's fingers.

 

[eagleyez]

the silvers ring

hand me my wide swing, hell, go ahead and
let the door knock out the time
and the clouds will fill the trebled clef, minor third jet stream harmony, some celestial melody-but listen to the chord.

I love to lay her on my lap
and play slide,
with tremolo to be
anticipated
like a sudden change of key.

hand me my wide swing
and the fat twelve too
let the door knock out the time and
say hello to the blue side hangin around sky blue.

I prop her up in my neighborly chair, yellow eastern light on maple breasts,
And she curves like the earth, and
From where I sit
that view is a gift.

 

[Angeline]

Re: the silvers ring

hand me my wide swing, hell, go ahead and
let the door knock out the time
and the clouds will fill the trebled clef, minor third jet stream harmony, some celestial melody-but listen to the chord.

I love to lay her on my lap
and play slide,
with tremolo to be
anticipated
like a sudden change of key.

hand me my wide swing
and the fat twelve too
let the door knock out the time and
say hello to the blue side hangin around sky blue.

I prop her up in my neighborly chair, yellow eastern light on maple breasts,
And she curves like the earth, and
From where I sit
that view is a gift.

Next to the window
if I crane my neck train tracks
pace off uneven teeth
to anywhere past the highway
and farther out the treeline dips
and rises thick green. The sky
is blue crystal coated with fluff.

Music flows rivers in this world,
words are tossed like laundry
over chairs verisimilitude
lives here we are beatifically
jazzed art heads pasted over
the Sunday New York Times,
we trade book reviews.

Buy the harmonica stand baby,
drape it like a necklace, blow,
curve that maple girl close.
She sings so sweet
when you dance her on your knee,
and verisimilitude rings tranquil bop.

 

[eagleyez]

the palest of Country Gentleman
double cutaway and bleached in airports
and spotlit- held close in Pittsburg and in Cincinatti.

a big box Gretcsh- F holes stuffed with blue foam
to mask the feedback-

a wide swing black Les Paul, scratched and kissed and
always in tune-

" treat your women like you treat your guitars."

a woodcutter said that to me once.

 

[Liar]

she loves to take it
dangerously close
to destroying knees
in curves not made
for two wheels

to grip the piston pouding
madness machine
below between
aching thighs
and make it a part
of her screaming spine

as rubber bleeds
asphalt cries
pumping horizontal
hollering high
as the world spins
pivot around a spot
over her shoulder

clinging on
closing her eyes

to ride it out
Jedi style

on roads
knowing
her last beat
just might be now
she adds some extra
just in case

to savor
what she has
and who she is
at be in spite of all
alive

 

[minsue]

She shuffled to the piano
painfully, slowly,
supported
by the daughter
she no longer recalls.

Gnarled, stiff hands,
so fragile and thin,
grasp at sheet music
as unfamiliar as hieroglyphs.

She stared at those pages
and down at the keys
before finally, haltingly
plinking random notes

This woman, once renowned
for her independence,
her stubbornness,
now frail and lost
within a home
she can't remember.

Playing piano in her
own private hell.

 

[BooMerengue]

suddenly I felt you behind me
your breath fast
your hands trembling
more afraid, I think, then me
with a groan and a hiss
you hiked my skirt
(catholic school plaid)
and ripped my panties
and showed me in more than words
your anger; your spite
but I stayed silent
and stayed
and stayed
and you went silent
turned me and looked in my eyes
and you went away

 

[perks]

that man with the strong lips
played his trombone skillfully
as we wove our conversation
between bites of delicate french cuisine
seen only by her
that ethnic chameleon
who didn't even blush
when we revelled in your ease

 

[Angeline]

At Scribner's Bookstore late of South Broad Street,
three floors of shelves and ladders. Aladdin's cave,
is miles, aisles of books it seemed to my small feet,

nor hands enough to grasp the largest tome save
one or two, but treasures there to fill an empty soul--
three floors of shelves and ladders. Aladdin's cave

is bright with dusty sun, parchment scented, toll
of monkish crackle and the pensive click of heels,
one or two, but treasures there to fill an empty soul

that needs to know the unknown world, how it feels
when horses rear and cities tumble through the stacks
of monkish crackle and the pensive click of heels.

I sit cross-legged, far away on my imagination's tracks.
Trains of thought ride everywhere. I'm lost and not
when horses rear and cities tumble through the stacks.

Trains of thought ride everywhere. I'm lost and not
alone among this crowd. Paper whispers play and plot
at Scribner's Bookstore late of South Broad Street,
three floors of shelves and ladders. Aladdin's cave.

 

[perks]

when I mentioned writing poetry of the three of us
We laughed at my
silly imagery and alliteration
and sighed in each other's arms

I couldn't get you close enough
although my skin smeared across yours indecently
sculpting peaks and valleys
from the sum of us

I remember wondering what he was doing
while my lips were on your nipple
if he was watching
but I was too enthralled to look

It surprised me when I looked
and saw my fingers on your nude lips
I didn't remember them travelling south
or if they've ever been so insistent

When I dipped my head to inhale you
your scent rocked me
so I coaxed your local flavor
across my tongue

I grinned when you told him
my culinary bent was different
and he replied with interest
towards the intensity of my appetite

You wanted to swallow him whole
so I did it for you
swirling my lips and tongue
in search for the perfect dessert sauce

When I looked up at him
expecting to feel the usual control
I swallowed unexpectedly
when his eyes saw me

Unnerving me, I just snuggled closer to you
pulled you closer
and yet I was the one
comforted in your arms

I could have kissed you contentedly
willingly, closely
but he moved in behind me
and pressed me even closer

I felt hands and lips on all sides
with inquisitive fingers on my new curls
so different from your slick smoothness
making me impossibly nervous

He pushed me on my back
teasing me toward need
I kissed you harder, pulling
your body halfway across mine

Every time his fingers penetrated
circled, danced over my wet skin
I sighed, swore, cried into your mouth
sucking and biting as if you were the cause

He asked me
Made me say please with his fingers
then opened me up until
I had to show him my all

I writhed against you
unable to be still with you pressing into me
Looked over your soft red head
and read his knowing smile

He wasn't easy on me
not physically, or emotionally
and you felt every moment
took them and made them your own

I can't remember any of the poetry
I promised I'd write
it's lost in that moment
the three of us shared

 

[Angeline]

Ok. So you told me about the spiders
(with a certain voiced glee) that summer
means spiders and black flies. Last week

I looked up right there in the corner--
noiseless and patient, just like Emily said.
She is a big spider girl, big with spider

children (hundreds no doubt). I thought
about Charlotte's Web and the instrinsic
goodness of all creatures, and spiders eat

flies after all. She's a mother-to-be; I'm
a feminist, so I smiled benignly. But I did
watch her. Benevolence is one thing, but

she's really big, and oh those babies
would probably get into everything
like little ones do but in their case

the bed, my clothes, maybe even me.
This, frankly, is a disquieting thought.
Me in the peace of my night's repose

and those babies, awake, bright-eyed,
wanting to try out their creeping, no
mama left to show them the way. Maybe

they'd want to bond with me. This morning
Mama had moved, right over the computer,
right over my head. She's nesting I know

getting ready for D-day, so baser me won
out came the broom. It wasn't love or passion,
but she was nonetheless swept away .

 

[BooMerengue]

They say God made the earth,
and all the creatures on Her,
and even tho He rested on the 7th day
I think on Friday He got the idea
to create an imbalance,
and so he created man.

And man covered the earth
pissing off all the creatures
who lived in harmonious
everchanging diversity

I don't know who created
the first large plastic cup
but that and a saucer
makes it very easy to
remove all manner of things
and relocate them

The last time my bosom was caressed
it was by a Brown Recluse spider.
Take no chances...
move them or squish them
but do not watch them
for they will spin their web
and mesmerize you.

(pssstttt.... Ange! Would you be so kind as to remind Ms Lauren to throw down a challenge fit for an eighth grader? For I am not well educated. All that I know I taught myself. Thanks...)

 

[OpheliaQuieroz]

No talk of sheep

good shit baby
make my flesh move
underneath my skin
tight
can’t sit still
like some car commercial
me and the sistas
bop
cruise down the Main
nice shit mista

 

[Maria2394]

simple enough

he breaks my will with a touch
of a key, three letters, ( not whole words)
not sticky love you forever bullshit type

I want to taste him at night, his face
between my thighs, his self, myself
one two, three always too much

never too much of him, its that simple
what I know he knows, we both have time
to sharpen and weigh, refine

hours of fortune, minutes of sin
yes I would do this, again
and over again, its that simple

yes it is, I love him