all of a sudden passion suddenly

[tungtied2u]

This morning my sister
threw her arms around me
thanked me for being an anchor
for her as she drifts aimless
threw this life

no children
no husband
no meaning

I could not tell her
to cut the chain
swim for her salvation
I was going down
for the third time

children
partners
meaning

are not necesarrily
puncture proof
life preservers

 

[Xectxny19X]

I’m sitting alone crying,
They are coming to find me now.
I can’t let them know my weakness, my pain.
I can’t let them know I really care what they think.
I can’t let them realize they have so much power over me.
Just a glance can built me up or break me down.
I don’t want to be around any of them, I just want to be alone.
But I want to fit in too much.

I think I’m going crazy,
In a way I want to be crazy just to have someone pay attention to me,
Figure me out so I don’t have to do it myself.
I may very well be sane, just confused,
But am I not crazy anyway for wishing it?

I have to hide my tears of rage,
But sometimes I want them to see how they’re killing me
Stabbing me with every word they say.
I want to rage out against them all.
I want them to be afraid of what I think of them,
But I’m simply too weak to carry out my wish.

I will just sit alone, keep to myself for awhile,
And put on that dreaded mask of happiness.
That’s the only strong part of me,
Being able to deceive them,
Pretend they aren’t better than me,
But they are and I know it.

Do they really know how weak I am?
Are they just humoring me?
I hate but respect them none-the-less.

My fate has already been decided for me.
I am to be one of the invisible people,
Not showing the magnificent colors we keep to ourselves,
That if revealed would shine so brightly if would blind those already blinded by their false happiness.

And all the invisible would take over,
What a shame that would be,
To be left behind…

 

[sandj]

Seeing Things: A work of fiction

I thought I saw you today, the briefest glimpse, sidelong
in a crowd, the push of bodies, a current pulling me away
while you sat against a wall, out of reach.
And as I fought the tide, I looked again and saw a stranger
sitting where you had been. The mistake was easily made,
same dark hair, lithe figure, face bowed,
but she did not have your eyes.

She looked up, and I relented, let the movement of the crowd
regain control, certain that I read too much into things,
convinced that every word is wrong, that I want too much
for meaning, for connection, for sensation.

I don't know how to reach you now, cut off, no longer
struggling against the tide, take me where it will,
shout my voice dry and cracked, and recognize it for what it is
a useless tongue, a face turned to a wall,
though this knowledge does me little good.
I will still see you everywhere I look.

 

[sandj]

Another coded message? Another silent sigh?
Another prayer for wisdom still unanswered?
Or have I missed something? You brush your hair
away from your face, and I think it means you're pleased;
you stare too long at empty space, and I pretend
I know the way to help you best. I fumble evry word
in eagerness to please, and only see my own reflection.

Drowning or waving? I wish I knew.

 

[Xectxny19X]

huuuu....

You try your hardest I must admit
The littlest comments just make me smile
"Sleep well, at least, what little you do sleep"
I think I remember you saying

Rummaging through your other posts
You seem unaware
How much I am
Delighted by your subtle sweet ways

 

[Guest]

Red

There she was, blazing sex
bent over right in my face,
smiling without shame.

I can't see the color
still, I know it is the same shade
as stop signs and stoplights.

Crimson, scarlet
vermillion are the same
but all different hues.

Although, on her ass
those prints are cherry hot,
she put them there

for me, I feel her heat
and know she is red.

 

[minsue]

there is freedom
in weakness

the weak link
in the chain
is secure
in the knowledge
that all who
surround
will pull together

to keep it
from falling
apart

 

[Guest]

Tempting, but I'll have to pass
on that black on black
wicked, 58' Fury.

Stephen King's Christine
horror, nightmare
(my dream)

It's not a practical family car
a gas guzzler, need a 4-door safe
room for a carseat.

No, that's not tears,
this is Seattle
and of course, it's just rain.

 

[Liar]

how wicked was I
to just fuck it all
one redeeming afternoon

to cast aside
the mud I have to haul
over the next threshold
day by day

sprout a little white lie
call in sick
and just fly?

how wicked was I
to stare doom and deadlines
in the white of the eye
and kiss them goodbye

as if I
had options
as if freedom was mine?

how wicked
how wonderfully wicked
was I?

 

[sandj]

And then, like that, you're gone
not even a wisp of smoke to mark
your departure or a pop
as the air snaps in to fill
the space you left, the hole where my hand
reaches to catch some bit of you
but only air tightens
around my useless grip. No,
you take your leave in silence
in between the breaths
that cannot escape fast enough
before I find myself a fool
talking at a wall.

I look to see if anyone noticed,
then continue to talk.

 

[SeattleRain]

the sugar was good baby
must I beg for salt?

what is the matter lover
you afraid to hold something too wild
afraid to break me
take me down make me
genuflect
chin up to you

still I yearn to be in the hands
of a vengeful loving god

are you worthy of worship
can you stand up to my kneel

these are the questions I should not ask
wanting the links and clips to join us

are your chains this strong
do you fear I they will bend,
melt in the heat

baby someday you will tell me what you want

what do I want
what do I want?

You tell me what I want
and I will make it
what
i
want

 

[PatCarrington]

oh the countless ways
my painted words prove that I
have nothing to say

those who believe words or steps
truly make a difference
need to reread history,
visit a graveyard
and change their shoes.

 

[The_Fool]

those who believe words or steps
truly make a difference
need to reread history,
visit a graveyard
and change their shoes.

what makes a difference
to the patterned grunge gray
of everyday lives
spent in mindless sequence.
not so much an apathy,
as a thoughtless repetition.

Sepia tones color life
more than life spent
black and white.
colors tend to graduate
rather than contrast starkly
in light of everyday.

 

[The_Fool]

elastic vision
tunneled stark
and straight ahead
monochrome life
patterned black and white
upon the memories
of what I did yesterday
funneling needless motion
through a measuring cup
that never quite overflows
except when abandoned
endless dreams of desire
waken to despair
sock on the left foot
shoe on the right
stumble through the coffee
black
poured carelessly in the cup
white
measure out the day
one spoon at a time

 

[annaswirls]

grit my teeth in restraint

this chlaustrophobiec chest crush

just want to speak
shut the fuck up poem

shut the fuck up and tell me what you want to say

fuck the flowers the
twisted way of saying the simple

just shut the fuck up poem and tell me

you are wasting my time

tell me what you hide under the distracting description
what are you afraid to say, poem?

like a grizzley on a salmon run
I want to bite you dead

sucking down your brain
and leave the rest
for the scavangers

 

[Trent_Dutch]

I try to form words,
That catch in my throat,
They falter and fall
Stutter and stall
As I dig myself deeper…

 

[The_Fool]

I try to form words,
That catch in my throat,
They falter and fall
Stutter and stall
As I dig myself deeper…

my most unforgettable words
have been left unspent, unspoken
hoarded back for times
when I can spend them all alone
replaying past conversations
inserting words and tones
that I wished I would have said.

 

[Xectxny19X]

So many roads
Choosing the way to go

The routes of emotion
Alongside the paths of self

A decision here
A thought there

If I blink, do you suppose
By missing the flight of a leaf on the breeze
Can so easily be changed the path for me?

How much do we take in
How much do we listen
To the Song of Silence
That sighs in the wind

Maybe you know
It’s time to go slow
To take in what is around
Not leaving anything out

Maybe then the path becomes clear
Or maybe a new path will appear

Who knows...

 

[Trent_Dutch]

I try to form words,
That catch in my throat,
They falter and fall
Stutter and stall
As I dig myself deeper…

I'll ostracise myself whether I try or not,
The art of making enemies
Is the only one I'm good at.

My words are so familiar,
All the misplaced praise,
all the same mistakes

If I don't make a friend,
One will make me....
So I learned to make enemies.

 

[Trent_Dutch]

I'll ostracise myself whether I try or not,
The art of making enemies
Is the only one I'm good at.

My words are so familiar,
All the misplaced praise,
all the same mistakes

If I don't make a friend,
One will make me....
So I learned to make enemies.

So I try to make amends with written words.
Poor substitute for a task suited to the spoken art,

 

[annaswirls]

I have nothing against keyboards
or sheet rock

as a matter of fact, I quite prefer
sheet rock to dry wall
keys to pen

none of which make me want to swear

like fingers and tongue circling breast
without ever getting to the center

fuck you fingers
fuck you tongue
just do it already

or let me sleep

 

[The_Fool]

I have nothing against keyboards
or sheet rock

as a matter of fact, I quite prefer
sheet rock to dry wall
keys to pen

none of which make me want to swear

like fingers and tongue circling breast
without ever getting to the center

fuck you fingers
fuck you tongue
just do it already

or let me sleep

Imaginary lovers
Taunt us sleepless
Through clever fingers
Played and splayed
On bare skin
Lubricated by our desire
For radical spastic sensation
It’s all about sensation
Letting us know for sure
That one part isn’t dead
Merely offering
A cold bare shoulder
Spiting us our need
To succeed in getting off
And getting on

 

[SeattleRain]

Imaginary lovers
Taunt us sleepless
Through clever fingers
Played and splayed
On bare skin
Lubricated by our desire
For radical spastic sensation
It’s all about sensation
Letting us know for sure
That one part isn’t dead
Merely offering
A cold bare shoulder
Spiting us our need
To succeed in getting off
And getting on

Imaginary lovers
with busy hands under cover
come to collect the dues of promise
claim hypocrisy card
feed me my words
until I strangle blue
return my breath to me
make me start over
from the beginning again
and again

until I play
as I paint
bound to deliver

 

[Trent_Dutch]

It takes less than a
Minute for a child to drown.
Why don't we see more?

 

[Xectxny19X]

You say you’re having the ‘shittiest day’
My heart withers
The sky seems darker
The day drearier
The time longer
Watching the clock
Tick ever so slowly
Yearning to get home to you