Dirty 30 in 30

[WickedEve]

Thanks, but this is again, not still. Different people, different subject.

I'm just kind of peeved generally, probably in part because my work is kind of stressful at the moment. Major project next week that I'm feeling kind of clueless about, for example. No one's problem but my own.

Why I found reading about gerunds, etc. enjoyable, though. Reading about grammar calms me.

Or puts me to sleep.

Well, peeve puss, I'm going to read some more about those gerunds myself.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Greetings all, and namaste.

I'm putting up several toward my 30 today cause I got all inspired last night. It's good to get a little ahead on these things just in case I have some dry days later on. And I'm demonstrating the rule-breaking behavior that this thread allows.

It's nice to read through and see everyone being so kind and cool everywhere. Yes. I'm reading everything. As always.

I do love a juicy grammar discussion. Does my heart MUCH good. I'm geeky that way. By all means, keep it up.

Tz, nice to see you. Guess the cave got too drafty, now that the weather is turning? Or maybe Plato needed you to run out for sandwiches?

Below is today's first inciting exstiflement of a few.

Peace and love, everyone.

bj

**

Regardless, Horatio

Still, pointless, I write the words to sleep within your form
and wait despite myself for your deliberate hands
to answer me. What hold I know, though you may not
and in the end reduced to Jungian terms, my whole,
my flesh a simple sentence carved by intellect
to fit the box.

Remember this: my fingers struggled through each edge
and would not be contained within philosophy.
And all my gods were silent as they watched the rope,
the trap, the net of Aries. Of course they knew I'd win.
I guarantee spectacular, ridiculous escapes
from every line and edge. I will defy description
ten years down. I promise this. So live with me,
with this flat name and curving broadcast line
while bright and tumbling chaos grows like jungle vines
across your printed page, within your heart and bed.
Know Nothing and know me, know it and know all.

A cockatrice, a manticore, some strange conglomerate
of stone and flesh, a bursting word of body and the frame,
a thick-slipped vase, a canvas piled with glowing stones.
A blinding nothing, short-lived matchlight in the dark.
What can be done with flame, with moving air? Hold it
if you can, or let it go, because it does not matter.
I'm in it now, the blood, and nothing less.


.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Well, peeve puss, I'm going to read some more about those gerunds myself.

You were right - as usual.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

This will be my #4

For Hattie McDaniel

who insisted, despite her family's objections, that the phrase
“a credit to her race” be carved on her headstone.


Mama I know you knew your “place” too well,
so that you bowed your head all day
even when it wasn't necessary. Now you're colorless,
as each of us will be, but you remember
when actors half as good as you were served at better tables
You could not watch the movies you had made
from the front row where you belonged.

You come from pride
of a different kind: the strength
to go upriver, against the current
in someone else's leaky boat.
Every compliment was qualified.
You learned so well,
so wrong.

Mama, be proud, finally, now. I know you can't imagine,
and died before we sang that we would overcome
but look at now and look at us, be proud
of what we've changed in such short time
but never soon enough. Look, Mama,
Look at us now.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

Annie, instead of Gerund Whore, why not just be Participially Promiscuous? I think that sounds better. I am too. Just have to decide if I want to even try to get my participles under control, or if it is more fun to let them run amok.

(Yeah, I know, participially isn't a word, but it should be, gosh darnit!)

ETA Wow! Wonderful poem up there, BJ. The Mama one. Very moving.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

3

He sat in a box
several feet above the ground
in London.
Many came to crane their necks
and marvel
at his foolhardiness
and maybe just to laugh.
I sat home and watched my own box
of pictures.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Promiscuous moi? tsk!

 

[The_Fool]

Stiletto heels,
razor tongue,
scalpel nails.
Sharp erotic pose
complete with cone bra.
Wondering where her nipples fit
if she has nipples.
Or just another fembot bitch.
Doesn't matter,
I still have a point to make with her.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

#5

(gathered like a cloud over this landscape)

build and slide like the heat
under the cold and make it rise
and feel my hand warm around and under
the rising form and shaft

Over you, this valley surmounting will
and the hypnotism of the hand rough on the flesh
and my eye fixing on the sun
the hot black center of your star
where fire builds, where the lava
is drawn, gravitic, to the core.

When smoke and rock roll liquid from the crest
and fill the boil of clouds with raging steam
so that the curve and motion of the globe
draws liquid into sky, and coils it high
like hands that stroke the ride and slap
across the flat of oceans making them rise
and boil, vibrate through the depths and singing
of the crashing skin.

And seas of air and seas of water
roaring, rolling past and across, brush and rise
and meet with lightning fingers
and waterspouts that bind the ocean to the sky
in wild spin, in perfect axis from the surface upward.

In this between we dance, in this flesh boat
over the surf, over whitecaps.



.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

# 6

for the s.

Yes angry
but not at you. You
by contrast, are the precious
dirty toy on which I make
the mark of my own name
over and over.

You take the harsh hand
of my days, and the steel
from my angry spine

you bend in the right
direction for the story,
right into my hands,
the hanging apple
into which I put this arrow
my arm, my body, my whole
mind that holds the black
of my deep, god
hunger, god, the
hunger.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

4

Sell me you last born
fey already and close to my needs,
that your wife shall be well.

She is not for sale at any price,
begone evil sorcerer
you have no place here.

Then pay the full price
and lose them both
none shall stay me in this quest

 

[bladeinthewind]

Page not found.

A scene description of sorts.
words on a page, composed; rearranged; honed...
Poof! No more.

Blade.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

Promiscuous moi? tsk!

Only participially, dear.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

I'm really enjoying this thread.

Annie, that last one was freaky scary wonderful.

Here's #7



Denim 2

he knows now
and gives it to me like I want it
the leaning plum, framed and slightly
dangerous against the brass. I know
how the skin worries about those teeth
and the scratch of that rough fabric
but enslave it to that frame, and see
how it enslaves me, how hypnotized
I'll be and how the mouths of me
will open.

.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

and # 8


Bind rune

I write it
on your skin with a fingertip:
the purple line, root to crown
and along it the kisses
of alphabets. Sanskrit and
pictograph, these curves and crosses
of fingernails in cuneiform.
The half moon, the peacock's foot,
this brushstroke for man, woman,
this sigil means life, fortune.
Let the ink smear with sweat and joy,
let it mirror, skin against skin
so that we both know the words
the magic words.


.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Call this 8.5. With apologies to Richard Brautigan.



The only good argument


She says, I should stop. You want me to stop.
He says,
no.
don't.





.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Only participially, dear.

Ah memories of a mispent youth!

 

[UnderYourSpell]

5

Hope you don't mind me using the Terzanelle but I worked damn hard on it today for the teach-in thread


He is a knight but not so bold
as those who fought so long ago
for now it's ritual and repast

He meets with others clad in robes
and speaks in words so secret
as those who fought so long ago

His raiment speaks of battles fought
while searching for the Holy Grail
and speaks in words so secret

In far off lands beneath the sun
were many lives to go for nought
while searching for the Holy Grail?

Where lies that relic of the past
with blood spilt for a cup no less
were many lives to go for nought?

Far gone the days on battlefields
with blood spilt for a cup no less
he is a knight but not so bold
for now it's ritual and repast

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Mind? It's lovely!

busy day.

Here's #9


Lingua

Press gently with the tip against the teeth, and breath
or voice can make you move. Now vibrate, flutter,
hissing close and open. The rounded tone, the wide flat tongue,
the sharpened tip, this whole alphabet
within the single mouth. Move this miracle:
the instrument of contact, sound to sound
with its endless combinations.

Think now of pressing letters on the skin,
the rounding and the lines of alphabets, the runes of fingernails
the shift of teeth, and how the mouth becomes precise
as between these curves and lines you speak yourself.
Think when the rise and pitch surprises you, how then you hiss
and bring the teeth together in a bite, the sybil
sucking in the breath in that prophetic hiss,
the snake of air over the tongue, sweet tension
of the lips drawn back, drawn open.

Think now of symbols drawn with the tongue each time
you speak. And speak then, soft breath that mists the surface
the word moan, the word round. Say them til your mouth
makes meaningless sound, until you feel the tongue
and how it moves, the lips where they close and open.
Moan. Round. The tip of the tongue, the lips and where they land.



.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Good job this is a flexible thread because I am all behind I think and about to get even more behinderer! I am going to an exhibition in London tomorrow so no time !!!!

 

[UnderYourSpell]

6

Before any exercise session
it is important to warm up,
don't skip it.
You can mobilize your major joints
and relieve tension from your day.
My favourites?
Side rolls, body stretches
and penis squats
really do the trick.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

#10



Do not understand this

Where is the weight in the arms when there is a ghost to feed?
The empty cradle of hands aches dark
under the traitor breasts. They do not understand
they fill for butterflies, for bones, for the lines
of interrupted songs. Each room is a minefield
where the wire face glows against black wood
where a flower becomes a fist, where it stays cold
and bright paint leaves silence in the broken bell.
It is stones now, the world, for a while
and it is best if the grass dies back as well
and winter comes to echo that dark weightlessness
light as snow, too light where it should be heavy
empty, what should have been full.




.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

7

I cannot make this recipe
something is missing
an important ingredient
never available to me.
So may women take it for granted
that it's just on the pantry shelf
for the using, when I
can't even find which shop
stocks such a useful commodity.
Through the years I have searched
my heart, and wondered
was it something I did,
a really bad action
to be forever denied?

 

[UnderYourSpell]

8

I will bind them round in ribbon
then tie it with a bow
and store away these memories
and ghosts that haunt me now.
Some future day I'll take them down
and blow the dust away,
touch lightly with a finger
and visit once again.
Each strand of longings not to be
if wishes did come true
then sadly smile and say goodbye
this is my gift to you.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

#11


Uffington

Allow me to be invisible, inexplicable,
let grass cover the chalk for a while
then shape me out again,

Say only, Lady, will you wait?
and you will hear
Rhiannon's quiet voice, saying
It would have been better
for both our mounts
if you had spoken sooner.

In the winter, I will populate
your dreams with calm white horses
grazing on a hill.
They'll wait. They're always there.




.