all of a sudden passion suddenly

[Guest]

"$6.49, please"

A five and one
diggin' for some coin in
the loose change tray

Fumble, fumble 'sorry-look'
hand the cash
Taco Bell drive-thru girly-girl
with a wink and a 'fuck-me' grin

"Want Border Sauce?"
not even a blink
"mild, hot or fire?"
she hands me my order

Must be vegetarian like me
I think, checkin' the bag
Bean Burrito Especial
side of nachos
with Cinnamon Twists

"Ya'll, Yankees don't have a sauce
hot enuff to suit Cajun's like me"
knowing smirk, revin engine

Change back with her number
"Really?" lashes fluttering
blink, blink—flirt

Slow Acadian drawl
earns anotha' seven digits

 

[annaswirls]

7 digits

all ten digits
tempted at the suggestion of these

words hotter than hush puppies
and jambalaya

kicked out of the kitchen,
yankee girl you just don't know
how to cook

missing the slow touch
of the toll taker
ez pass stole that slide on palm
over the sunglass rim
shot of fire before acceleration of tire

credit cards and self check out
beep beep
steal the touch of a warm
maybe sweat and chat
handing cash to pay for
red grapes white milk and brown
bread and eggs


stolen opportunity for touch
connection

cold infra red
hard plastic
metal shine

no name tag

 

[eagleyez]

shoulderblades-
of course i feel them
standing in the
door yard
thats all that i want-

a moments press-
you seem so wiry
the memory of your
sleeping
like the
cedar
dripping-

the longest steps
those tiny leaps
up staircases
as your wheels
ride away.

 

[perks]

There's this anger between my thighs
expecting highs getting lows
you on your back and fuck knows
what would have happened
had you been fine
but I'm not sure I have time
for the emotion without the physical
this relationship isn't whimsical
it's supposed to be my cure
a lure away from my insanity
everyone else's sanity
it's vanity that I would think
a few drinks and your bed
would be my solution
my absolution for denying
the choice of my life
disappointment like a knife
flays me open
hoping that these thighs spread
will someday lead
to more than you in my head

 

[tungtied2u]

words stroke
invoke memories
of feeling
fingers stroke
along my my chest
arresting
loves stroke
between your thighs
sighs sighs sighs

 

[Angeline]

Miss Havisham
burned
in her wedding dress.
Perhaps
it would have been
more tragic if she did
marry
and whatever she imagined
in a lifetime
of cold attic years
was broken open,
consumed
in what really
happened.

 

[Miss Oatlash]

I met you
in a garden full of thorns
and before I knew it
a rose bloomed,
the color of my nipples
and the shape of my
sweet cunt.
Rain kissed its petals
and you kissed my heart.

 

[SeattleRain]

Re: Shelling peas

A hot wind sucks the
curtains out hungrily
dries my sweat thirstily
a trickle tickles
between my breasts
and my thighs stick together
too hot to sit lady-like
legs splayed apart
shelling peas
the peas dropping like
sweat droplets to
the metal bowl at my
bare feet
a handful for my mouth
sweet and tart

oh to be that metal bown
held tight between her thighs
you say she said between feet
if I were the bowl
I would be cool comfort
and shine reflection for the collection
of steel drum under hailstory
hail
storm
of produce dropping from
real woman fingers

 

[Guest]

Re: Re: Shelling peas

oh to be that metal bown
held tight between her thighs
you say she said between feet
if I were the bowl
I would be cool comfort
and shine reflection for the collection
of steel drum under hailstory
hail
storm
of produce dropping from
real woman fingers

If not the bowl then why not
lie down
open mouthed
saying ahhh!
catching peas with a view

 

[Maria2394]

tilta whirly-girl

sit back and watch
the grass grow shaggy
it’s not a sin to let it grow
ankle deep infuse of green
highlights, deep sun shadows

long past morning
depending upon degree of tilt
of Earth’s axis to face the Sun,
this movement reminds me
of laughter

will there ever be a day,
identical twin of this one?

same thoughts, same clouds
same coulds and wishes
same now?

remember this day, inscribed
genetic, pre-planned
yet somewhat insignificant
of mitochondrial DNA

I have to say, it’s been a pleasure
my Father, my buddy
companion, deja vu

but you’re just another yesterday
on hysterical brink of tomorrow
and I’m no longer afraid
of you

 

[Angeline]

Tilt-a-Whirl

Jersey Shore summers
are brilliantly sticky.
The boardwalk dusty.

Hot sand whirls up
your knees from indifferent
breezes that slide
waxed paper,
the odd french fry cone
down the wood.

You can hear them scrape.
It all mixes with barkers,
screams, laughter, oldies
Kids' eyes are big.

They sparkle
like my boy's did
after such a long day
into darkness, the neon
and flash.

Twilight shifts to couples
entwined in cut-offs
and tank tops.
Soon it will be raucus,
and my boy is a little boy,

so we play one
more game. The odds
are terrible. I tried to steer him
to the darts and balloons.
but no, even now
he is strong willed.

He curves his wrist back,
and the ball somehow
falls like ripe fruit
nto green 33.

We take the black stuffed dolphin.
The big one.
Life is beautiful.

 

[echoes_s]

a stem, weaken
from shade, sheltered
breeze, parched rain
filtered
rays

stooped, drooped
a droplet couldn’t perch
upon it’s leaf
withered and browned,
light shade

two tendered hands
a soft sigh, loving,
sad glance
pushes dry dirt
with gentle fingers

scooping to lay
in open palm
carry close
to another land
moist soil

sunshine, bursting
forth, sigh of air
to strengthen,
green, lustered
slow birth

 

[annaswirls]

a poet
lost in her own little words

rises for crushed ice only

dictionary, thesaurus be damned
e

stamps licked or peeled
pasted
all goes to the same plcae

something looking like the fresh bones
of a prehistoric fish
under the toes of a wader
in the shallow waters
of

island beach state park



who never heard of spell check
even then

 

[Angeline]

She wrote a poem!
Only 12 and she
wrote a poem, said

What do you think, Mom?

She rhymed
unconventional rhyme,
and drew images
distinct, vignettes
that made me feel her.

I saw her on the patio,
studying her shadow
and seeing metaphors
for friendship,
for lonliness.

I cried
because it is good,
because my babies
are writers, artists,
my babies love to dance
with language,

and I never
really thought of all
those years of stories
and words until today,
when it seems like a mural,
vast and full of color
but small
with their moments
of listening.

 

[Eleanora Day]

Amante, there are sorrowful pools in our eyes.
Sometimes we drown in the depths in our eyes.

Those nights are ancient, they bleed memories.
We fall together, breaking rules in our eyes.

Forget what love is; it's on the tip of my tongue.
The world and we two are fools in our eyes.

Look here at them striated amber and dark.
Our souls are gifts rare as jewels in our eyes.

Pájaro triste, míreme y vea el Sol en esta noche.
Míreme, míreme before night cools in our eyes.

Comfort with kisses; it's on the tip of my tongue.
Unravel the hours, unlearn the schools in our eyes.

 

[echoes_s]

nothing but a preambled
variation of calous
colors of blue
singing sirens
as she tucked and rolled
with the sea, curled
under a lolling wave,

skimming along,
tickled rushed break,
splashed play,
giggled glee,
bound heart, shining
forth

casting crystals
to sparkle
incessantly
diamonds shimmering
a covered luminscent
veil clinging
to every tuft of breeze

spelling errs et al

 

[echoes_s]

My daughter's poem

My friend had a dancing heart

My friend had a dancing heart
and she shared that heart with me

with a skip and a giggle
we play and hung out
we pick flowers for you and me
and she would say:
"I feel so great
picking these flowers
for you and me"

when a warm breeze came
we sit down and watch
the birds go tweet tweet
flying across the sky.

and afterward we went
frog-hopping
flower-opening
hello spring ballet!

and in summer
when we would go to P.E.I
we would swim
splish-splashing
the day away

then our mothers came
and we all watch
the sleepy sun slipping away.

at night I would sleepover
in my friend's cabin
and the next night she
would sleep in mine.

the next day we would go
tip-tapping
song-singing
hello summer ballet!

in the fall
my friend and I
can watch the birds for
the last time.
and go back to school

meeting our teacher.
knees knocking

we can watch the
animals collect their food
for the winter.

we would play in the
leaves and rake them up
but most of all
we would
like to sit down and
have hot chocolate
afterward we like to do
leaf-kicking
wind-blowing
hello fall ballet!

and when the when the winter snoow
came softly down
covering the earth.
with no birds
to watch
there's nothing we can
do but
go sliding
snow angel-making

the best part of winter
when the ice is slippery
and the snow is falling

and then she would say:
"I wish it was summer
so it would not be
so cold out"

then we would go:
ice-cracking
snowman-building
hello winter ballet!

my friend had a dancing heart
and she shared that heart with me.

July 2nd 2002...age 9

 

[annaswirls]

remember the day
grandmom became a bohemian

well she had always been one
but that day I learned she was won

I wanted to pack up
and go

 

[echoes_s]

the only time i left
broken
almost realizing i
was becoming one of them

my hand raised to strike
after i pushed back
and the anger flared
dangerously

this was not who
i wanted to be.

 

[tungtied2u]

Where the smart money is

we die in Iraq
with guns in our hands
insuring our liberty

we die in city streets
here at home smoking crack
escaping reality

we die as old souls
in fiery summer's heat
unable to afford ac

we die as tiny children
from famine and disease
ignored by society

and my only solace
among all this death
is the relief of knowing
God isn't biased

be you young or old
innocent or guilty
rich or poor
God doesn't care

God is an equal opportunity
death dealer
Know your enemy
Be prepared

We have one savior
The brotherhood of
humanity
Put your faith and efforts
and prayers into them

Get a return on your investment

 

[Vampiric_Mirage]

The world shakes
falls apart
a child is lost...
an accident
noone is to blame
yet
look how it flies
amongst loved ones
on wings of guilt
lashing out
trying to hurt themselves...
ourselves...
I look from the distance
trying not to be near
I feel her tears
hear her screams
I am standing there...
I am far away from myself
curled in a ball
hoping the world would disappear...
& I am not even them
at her house
in her heart
I am a stranger
a friend of a friend
I have no reason to shed these tears
right?...

 

[Vampiric_Mirage]

Someone
please
take me from this
if only for a moment
from the computer that can't stay connected
the job that I don't want
the craving for money that haunts us all
& the darker images
those things I wish I never knew
never happened
never could happen
Wrap me in your embrace
your lips
your words
your fantasy
carry me away
kicking & screaming if need be
just save me
from myself
from this reality...

 

[eagleyez]

blue trance-
a recollection of
hardwood fires
yards from porches
in 55 gallon
drums, dirt driveways and

giant Magnolia
shadows,
the pearl colors
of night flowers
up there
in negroe
towns,
galvanized fans
spin
like conversation
drawling
slower than winter
molasses-

moccasins
curl just off the footpath
and
jaws nuzzle into
their own jungle.

 

[Angeline]

It was a black and white day,
no impressionist strokes
swept sky and hour.
The day was condensed
on screens, alpha-numeric
insectile fine print whirred
across moments.

Town was gray,
rain falling steady
but listless, not
enough gumption
to pelt or stream,

then Milton, Miller,
Dickens and Joyce
bubbled up. The construct
of language laughed at itself.

Jazz played. 1930s Chicago
paraded past the kitchen.
You gestured, scratched
your knee, spun stories.

Poems fall from far away
into our eyes. You say
it's the music. And yes.
Art weaves through notes
into the heart of the house
like the cliffhanger spider
makes her home
on the ceiling here.

Here.

Birdsong and minor keys
and words in spaces
between the sounds.

 

[Angeline]

T's Tune

Boomp Boomp Chomp.
Sunshine horn section,
screaming joy, dancing pure
joy, showered with believing
it could be.

It could.
Day-glo possibility
awoken. Magical street life,
bells and big eyes sparking
in the stream of crowd.

We spun like tops,
around around radiant
full of young tomorrow,
bursting like the dawn.

A million good times together.
A million moments each forever.

Light show faces
flashing, souling in and out
of strobe vibes, the drumming,
the mariachi karma.

Then, it could be
now reaches still we are
rhythm's children still
dreaming of free.