all of a sudden passion suddenly

[29wordsforsnow]

The sweet snack
of an apple bite
caught between
the slices of our lips
in the slice of our lives
we caught and shared
a peachy moment
before the bitter main course of our lives

 

[Angeline]

We must not delete.
We must force ourselves
not to edit, no clipping
adverbs or other messy,
misguided remnants.
We will do the chores,
help slice jalapenos,
get you a cold washcloth
or some warm tea, soothing
each other's weary souls,
smoothing the night but
no edits. Somewhere D
is dancing and stops
to say remember the passion
and also the suddenlies.

 

[Neonurotic]

You once told me you wore
sweet spices, rain
oranges
a hint of baby powder
That squeezes into a brain full of fog
Hazy, hazily haze
Ah, (oh) other parts remember
no gingko biloba boost
no Red Bull because
Hello, Annamakebelieve
I still have wings!

 

[Lyricalli]

I've come unmoored
and I'm drifting
weary arms and withered fingers
couldn't hang on anymore
and I can only trust my buoyancy
to keep me from drowning
all the hollow places inside
aching to take on water

 

[annaswirls]

first he woke me up
and then he died
a few things happened in between
and still


I nearly
instinctually
deleted the
and

on the couch
on the couch
on the couch

I always imagined a crocheted afghan-
doubtful

 

[Neonurotic]

I want to write poetry again
but the words get stuck
lose focus, see something shiny
or start finger fucking my phone
and forget why I am sitting here at:
"Reply to Thread" open
no words in the white space

Words word word word
that word word sounds funny
as I'm thinking it
loses meaning, the more I think it
And still no poem, just
all of a sudden passion suddenly
(ok, not passion, piss warmth?)

 

[Neonurotic]

You know what I don't miss?
Going to a movie theater
spending a fortune on a date night
movie tickets, popcorn, Raisinets
gallon of cola for $75, a $100 bucks

Now, Fridays I have to pretend
make Jiffy pizza with bacon bits
olives and smoked gouda,
Get my Jr Mints and microwave
Movie-style buttered corn,
find a movie to stream an action
if I can find one because
my date gets bored, gives
blowjobs during the sex scenes
or maybe it's my turn for a rom-com
because that shit makes me yawn
at "Hello". Pass the Twizzlers,
chocolate melts when she gets hot

 

[Lyricalli]

Still searching for dry land
in this grief I'm swimming in
weighing down my limbs
the way it dampens joy
there are no tears
sad or happy
either would
just flood
and drown
me

 

[Levitating_Bed]

Thought about you a ton today. You always slip in.
Usually, it's songs. Sometimes it's light and shadow
- the way shapes and colors change
just by my moving through a room,
by closing or opening a door.
I don't know why, but you're there
every time I look out my kitchen window at the quiet street.
I wanted to put my face against your cheek,
my lips almost touching your earlobe.
I wanted to hear you say my name, whisper it into my ear.
I wanted to kiss you.

 

[champagne1982]

<snip>
Words word word word
that word word sounds funny</snip>

Semantic Satiation

That word sounds funny word!
Word holds humour.
Word is sorrow.
Word exclaims in horror!
But word
words, word word
word, makes all the difference
in how hard you listen.

 

[Lyricalli]

First ride in warm weather
fair warning that we're peddling
into spring, and I have to learn
what to wear when the chill
doesn't keep my nipples hard
for seven miles, but I'm going to miss
you warming them in your palms

 

[champagne1982]

Poems of Place
La Maison Cailler Chocolate Tour

Feathery voluptuousness dances on my tongue
and the honeyed praline has a mouth-feel
of duck skin -- melted, rendered, crisped
until the crackle oozes over and fills
every tiny crevice with umami.
The bite of saliva glands spasming
a gush of spittle making ready
your digestion for the taste of salted
sweet caramel, chocolate, butter
the trifecta of Nestle success
and the failure of my waistline to stay slim.

 

[Lyricalli]

From your lips
to some devil's ears
what is this mischief
you've brought forth
to taunt me
tingling up my spine
just one whisper
and it appears

 

[Tzara]

I can't love you, but
I love you. More syllables
help disguise the truth.

 

[Tzara]

Confession

Here is my white and empty
paper. Here is my pen.
Yet I cannot write a poem

that would quite span the country
to gather you up
like a sheaf of ripe wheat,

though the "bound" part
I confess I find oddly attractive.
I must nuzzle you only with words,

which, though chosen with some care,
still strive to avoid association
with that better lover,

the one you lost, the one
whose body, whose touch, you adored.
That one who made you sigh

with pleasure. All I can do is write,
and tell you that, however incompetent,
my fingers, my whole flesh

long to stroke you body,
long to interpret your unclothed skin
as if runes

were writ upon your thighs.
Sometimes I think I should at least
Write my feelings down

in a permanent ink
that I won't be able to erase, ever.
Not that that would do any good.

 

[Tzara]

Listening to Jazz

makes me want to leave
you some CDs, like flowers
arranged

into a kind
of bouquet
where Lester Young's sax

seems to simply breathe
"Stardust"
all over my desk.

His vibrant reed flutters
in my ear
as if it was your amorous tongue.

 

[Angeline]

Jazz Always Says Yes to Me

Within the confines of this poem
I am your lover and we are timeless.
Our love is safe in these lines

where you can undo and expose me,
learn my long waist, my limbs,
let the dark curtain of my hair

fall down my back as you've imagined,
thick and silken filling your hands,
spilling over your bared skin.

Give me your mouth. My tongue
will tell you what you need to know:
Within these lines everything is yes.

 

[Piscator]

So What

I didn’t include a link because you
don’t really want a Leaf Filter ad
as your prelude to perfection and
this Kind of Blue is about as close
to nine perfect minutes as we can get.
Like that distressed wooden table
which would lose value if refinished,
this album is best listened to on
that scratchy vinyl 33⅓ record
instead of your CD or streaming
service because the needle cuts deep.

 

[Angeline]

Seventeen syllables stand in a line hoping to become a poem.

Seventeen syllables batting and fielding but still there's no home run.

Seventeen syllables like ducks in a row might as well fly away.

 

[todski28]

The dog senses the bird close
fish gut eating mongrel
tries to whine but he knows his place
limps in squares because circles don't work
for him any more
the bird breaks like a lock tumbler
crashing against the key

gun blasts and the shower of blood is less than a yell
it's silent as dust in the pink mist
and the echo rattles against my teeth
like a power drill in my temple

somewhere in the fog a hounds cry bays
a prayer at the sky
as if the keening will burn back layers
a mishmash of truth that didn't happen
sidling along the wall
stripped naked and shivering

the vicious hiss of water cascading along the tiles
is fog and steam
parts of me trickle down the drain

 

[champagne1982]

Chelsea Hotel After #2 (ekphrastic)

Leonard Cohen:

I don't mean to suggest that I loved you the best
I can't keep track of each fallen robin
I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel
that's all, I don't even think of you that often​

---------------------------------------------------------------

I am not that god,
I come with flaws and imperfections
that I don't even try to hide
anymore.

I'm sure you've forgotten
my one misbegotten impression
that you once loved me,
but that doesn't matter these days.

If I were a young god
with flowers at my feet
I know you'd be by my side.
But lovely, it's true
I'd pass over you
if I were that god you adored

I can't keep track of each fallen robin
nor chase down every injustice.
I'm sure you've forgotten
my heart on my sleeve,
just as I have remembered yesterday.

Come ride up to the room
and let me unlock the door.
We'll tangle our legs in soft linen
and I'll whisper how I
remember you well even though now,
as it always has been,
I'm not God or ever will be.

 

[Angeline]

New Hope, 1971

It was late October, chilly
in my suede miniskirt and silk blouse.
We still wore pantyhose then. Oh I was
a sweet young thang, nowhere near 21
but you secreted me into the Bird Nest
and the place was jiving, bodies packed
tight on the dance floor and outside a full yellow
moon shining on the Delaware.

It was thrilling, getting silly
with a Singapore Sling and dancing
like the wild thing I once was,
hair flying, Barb's hair and teeth glowing
in the black light. She was the Cheshire cat
that night and we laughed, fists pumping
Knock Knock Knock on Wood, our boys banging
it out on the bandstand, Jody's fingers walking
up and down those frets.

How I loved you all. Nobody sang
that song better. Remember? I told you
again that last time we talked, just months
before you died, nobody ever
sang it better than you, JoJo.

 

[Angeline]

An artist has visions. She sees
what others do not. The visions
enter her world in unusual ways.
It does not seem strange to her.
She knows she sees with more
than eyes. She paints feelings,
imagination and we interpret
her art within the context
of our own experience.
When we see her painting,
it's about us, not her.

This is how I know
not to fear my ghosts. They do not
mean to trouble me or replace
my conscious world, however gray
it may be. They are my dreams
and imaginings, colorful and loud.
They need my attention so what
else can I do but love them,
and let them inhabit my words.

 

[The_Fool]

I had a dream
that I was listening to my dissonant lover
scratching out another moan and groan
to metronomic licks
it's not that I am single minded
or simple minded
but just lazy
enough not to change my pattern
she does her best to break my rhythm
by twisting her body
her words
her truth
but I persist
too jaded to care
to share
the moment
other than my pleasure
when I please
or appease
waiting for the next commercial break
on a cheap radio

 

[Remec]

From the Shadows

I feel it, again,
that inner pulse doing
its best to draw me
out of the shadows,
onto the floor, but
I resist,
content in watching you
again
as you roll with the beat
in ways I could never
hope to match
and enchant all the others
around you,
like you were dancing with
all of them
all at once
and I just watched
wishing you were dancing
with me
just me
again.