all of a sudden passion suddenly

[Randi Grail]

Pan paniscus got it right.
Let's shed fig leaves,
and weave them into a basket shelter
on a branch.

Stare at the sky,
in the still lingering glow
of one explosion,
at the glow
before stars drown in cyan.

There, when I lap
dew from your skin
and dawn from your eyes,
we will lay modern man to rest.

There, in the thunder
of a thousand melodies
greeting the full circle,
our barks at a descending moon
will fit the fugue.

And the day will warm our vessels
from above
like we warmed them
from within.

 

[Angeline]

Sleep little one
Curled in my hearts palm
Hidden from blinding sunrise
Concealed from incalculable night
I'll sprinkle you with dreams
Candied snowflakes
For you to chase
Catch on your tongue
And taste enchanment
Sleep my baby
Sleep

Candied snowflakes?
Here's ten thousand
iced over the yard,
painted along branches
in confectionary lines,
glazing over apples
that had fallen at first frost.

Candied world crackles
white under bootprint
and my mittenswish
says SNOW! as if nobody
knows, needs a sign
that the earth is resting
under diamond
drifts of sugar.

Namaste' T.

 

[Randi Grail]

Musings On A Cock AV

Did
I
ask
you
for
your

engorged glistering manhood

slapped in
my face?

Or as close
as I would dare to lean
toward the innocent decoy screen,
before your jpeg jumped up,
like every bogeyman cliché,
when least expected.

Mind you,
it's a nice one.
But phallic aestetichs,
and in full motion 3D kinetic edition none the less,
is just a phone call away,
jotted in a black book of delights.

And even there, the flip only stops
at one page
one row
these days.

Not even a splendid specimen
as yours can begin to compare.

This one has a human attached.

So no,
with unbidden salute
you will remain a pariah,
erect your ego alone,
reject an ethos
that could had, should had been
regarded from another direction

than down the length
of a veiny vanity
display of strength
in vain.

 

[*Catbabe*]

I feel the sting of your no thanks
smile like a parental pat
on a child’s head and I feel
small. My palms close

around my thoughts, covering
your rejection carefully
before I crumple them
beyond comprehension.

My fingers fall open
to my sides, dropping
pieces of me to the floor
and I am gone again.

 

[Maria2394]

contemplating bowls

smooth within, disregarding outside shape,
if any, except being a container, if bowl
be womb, then being woman, I am bowl.

Smooth inside and holding shape,
with no regard to layers scarred
and scratched, this bowl contains memories,
this bowl contains my own life

this bowl once gave a home to young life
of two daughters, bowl created bowls
with help, but made from clay and glazed,
made from wood turned to ash,
then polished and shined with love
andhope

this bowl will not contain death,
like sarcoptic jars hold heart, liver,
eyes perhaps, this bowl cannot congeal herself
nor will she dissolve her spirit inside
the bowl
contains it's shape, holding holding
like a mother, like earth,
a bowl giving birth, come here
lay beside me, give me your spoon

 

[Liar]

I never played
the mandolin
or sung the serenade
that good old times' way,
and my Italian goes a long way
off track and never comes back
to anything coherent.

But god dammit
if it makes you smile,
I'll make the effort
and manhandle the strings
for all it's worth.

Silly little wishes in the night,
truth or dare on a carelfree
carelessness composed
of too much stark spice
and just enough wild spirit
to be children on one side
and grown enough
to know nothing of taboos
on the other.

 

[The_Fool]

Notes sound flat
On listening ears
Melodic motion
In contrast with
Melancholic mood

Fortuitous find
Brings smiles outside
Scowls inside
In counterpoint
Contrast evil and jealousy

Systemic silence
Fills the noise
Nothing sounds syncopated
Except the dissonance
Of decadent strings

Fortune weeps
Sadness smiles
Literal dreams
Vividly colorless
Fashionable angst

 

[WickedEve]

I see lots of monkey words above me. I'll read it after posting this bit of fluff.

bdsm date


not a rose in hand--
tawse and quirt, instead.
and those mentions of bars
were spreader--no worries
over indulgent rum .

 

[Randi Grail]

through the eyes of children, they say
so I stayed silent behind

watched a small hand
draw stick figures and red suns
blue wine ranks

olives the size of melons
rabbits the size of peas
and blue skies
always blue skies

small hand delivers the final piece
and small feet scurry shyly off

an angel
(stick limbs
pasted dress
pink wings)
among the mortals

amazed at attention to detail
I notice it all
it's crude but it's there
feathers, necklace,
fingers, all ten

no wait, only nine

just like me

through the eyes of a child I saw
through those I was
through my own
I wept

 

[WickedEve]

there is a poet in room two
in a paper blouse
sleeveless
plunging
80s shoulders

she tears ashbery
and pinsky from the new yorker

the rip is subtle

her surgeon talks of regular checkups
and how she needs maintenance like a car
so she'll run for years

a poet only hears words
that can be altered
aligned
and fed the light of day
abundant in her head

 

[WickedEve]

looking for god

not in high ceiling frescoes
but in faces of men
who do not reach to touch me.

they are raw without divinity,
their presence earthly
with no heavenly arms about them.

yet they are gods
when woman adores
and presses her length along their ground.

i need eye level
with booted step
and impatient heel.
i need one man

to worship.

so here i am
looking for god.

 

[Angeline]

Sometimes you're dormant.
There are seasons
when you don't speak to me.

Once I imagined you
in the back seat of my car,
sitting very straight-backed
in spite of your jangled soul.
Your lapels and tie were narrow,
your hat set slightly back.
Your crumpled mouth
wasn't moving, but your eyes
said you were lost somewhere
good, somewhere I want to be.

You're just a crazy drunken
old jazzer, dead 50-odd years,
old enough to be
my long-gone grandpa,
and still you fly to my dreams
with more life than the bluesjay
in this morning's pine.

I want to love you.
I want a wayback machine
to 1943 so I can rescue you
before Detention Barracks
beat you to an early grave.

But you're gone,
and all I have is that tone,
sweet ironic swing
that soars straight up
past clouds and blues
to heaven and ballads
that dip and weave
beautiful hurt until I cry
for somewhere good
I once imagined
leaving your imaginary eyes.

 

[WickedEve]

because I have the power

if I choose to lick the crack
of adoration
then it will be
with most worshipful
tongue
god slid into any eve

if I choose to be dirt
belly low dirt
crawling after your heel
then I will be dirt

and dirt will be pleasure
because I make it so

if I choose to be demeaned
then I expect
You
to do Your best

goddamn cunt
get your fucking whore ass
over here

are pretty words
without attitude

just look at me, baby
You don't need to bellow

place Your hands
here
hips

feet spread
and that look
I obey
because

I have the power

 

[annaswirls]

seedling sapling
sailor spy
held under artificial lighting

sun lamp

it is the sun
no it is a lamp

tis the sun

okay
if you say so

I will curve and grow towards the glow
dont tell me who you are

giggles in the background and the pirates say aye mayte
everyone expects this from a opirate

except the woman at home
he promises some day to take her to france
where his sculpture is displayed
in false french
she
does
not
speak

the language

splatters paint on hs pirates stripes

yes lover
today
I painted the most beautiful woman
and I called her you

pretends to believe hjim so often
she does
just
in
time


and the green grass grows all around all around

and the green grass grows all around

 

[Guest]

… and sometime
it was said

I should let go
get out of my "stuff"
reclaim what was lost
before the fix
washes the silver

but how?
What part
and
where was it left?

'cuz, this "stuff"
is black and white
F-stop 8
at 1000 aperture
overexposed

It's life at still
already rendered
to be relived

 

[foehn]

can't write a poem.

need the day. all
i am is night.

need the fusion.

daniel, where are you?

i'm guarding a hospital full of iraqui children

daniel, where are you?

look for me in the eyes of my child

        *

daniel, I had a dream about you
you had a letter in your pocket
told me to look to the stars

you cannot imagine how it hurts

and a week later

nor how briefly

it came.

 

[annaswirls]

the weave is loose lover
breathe through between thread
and
thread fingers run the bumps and the holes where the cold air
enters as do you

crossing the time

poarrellel through the stitches
the illusion of solidity
you believe it you believed it
before the seams were closed
I know you saw through


does that matter

it must
my illusion of possibility
meet me in the strings
I hold the know and reach out for you

spark my forebrain
remind me we exist

 

[Guest]

That picture, I remember
sitting there between
the two best buddies
a boy could ever have

the happiest I've ever been

There prankin' on Missus Devereaux's
wash drying on the line
her big pink bloomers
flapping in the wind

How we laughed so hard
I dropped my pecan pie in the dirt
Adain nearly pissed his pants
while Anthony snorted and cried

Ya, I remember that
the picture is tucked in the mirror
so I can look back
see that boy in the middle
cuz he had a light in his eyes

was the happiest he'd ever be

 

[Liar]

for fifteen years
a tree stood sentric
patient witness
to little bipeds
with funny cat-calls
      - urban enviromental administrator
      - independent enviromental activist
      - slightly mental passer-by
      - mayor
      - minor
      - me
and there stood the tree
silently swaying limbs
to a different tune
than our human chatter
to no concensus, to no end
for fifteen years of indesicion

then it fell
quietly, considerably
at 3 am when nobody's children
ran laughing under it's shadow,
not because of our demigod interaction
but because the time had come

so now bipeds bicker
yes, they still babble on
about should had instead of should

as if they could wind up some DeLorean,
take a wayback spin

as if roots
would really
give a damn

 

[Guest]

Up the tree, swirling
blue tail grips
around the trunk

Tongue ffflicks, tasting
the estrus thick air

There you are
in the garden of lust
eating pomegranates
one seed at time

taking the bitter with the sweet
as the bad feelsss so good
when it is done right

This hedonism has a face
and with half-closed eyes
it looks a lot like you

 

[Maria2394]

rediculous rhyming winter poem

oh the winter wind does whip
within the trees, across the branches
barren of their leaves

I saw a robin frozen still,
tiny feet to oak twig, feathers
to wind, feathers dont bend

and there was winter howling
and raw, I shiver, I wonder,
by March, will I thaw?

 

[minsue]

Is it madness that keeps me orbiting? Held helpless
by your gravity and gravitas, constantly circling.
Pulled in, pushed away, yet stubbornly returning.
A distorted, demented lunar lunatic
enthralled by the weight of your words.
Tidal torment, torturing us both.

 

[Maria2394]

another wish

would it be wrong to wish
for a January blast from a Yucatan cannon?
shifted from gulf and aimed towards north,
frigid wrapped tight as winter
blankets bundled in jet stream ice

and wind-strafed icicicles obscured by blinds
with whoosh scattered stars like frozen shards
across last evenings blue black sky,
those Mainers sit awaiting arctic flash,
no detour, no diversion,
but straight into freeze-time,
clutching Winter's icy breast


for Angelie

 

[Guest]

Was that lemonade
or was it raspberry?

Both, I think ~
It tasted sweet
a little tart on your lips

Here
d
o
w
n
there

everywhere

Such a smart girl
never giving it all
hold back
stand back
until I ask

commiting more and more

Baby, I need
some sugar please

 

[echoes_s]

blizzard

Lady Tempest
whipping snowed gauze
eyes swirled
blindness
cold fingers
numb exterior

silk veils
fluttered flakes of
transcluscent white
melting upon skin
turbulence
sends wind chills

shivered spine
stiff neck
buffeted upheaval
emotions scream
imaged pain
claustrophobia

when one cannot
walk without being attacked
...one does not have to sheild
fight against element
of survival
then one lives