all of a sudden passion suddenly

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can you spare a digit?
I've but a single one.
It's slowly slipping lower
soon it will be none.
Baby, it's c o l d outside.
 
that's way to funny
if only i had money
to whisk myself
away

to someplace warm
where bikini babes swarm
and bask on the beach
all day
 
Where's that very
extraordinary
imagination now?

Lying fallow,
getting shallow.
get it working now!

Think of lying in
suntanned, brown skin
not your palid hide.

Take a mental
Expermental
Holiday outside.

The loop.........




:p
 
"No, no!" she cried "It's not enough"
"I need more of that kind of stuff"
"Put pen to paper if you please"
"And write just a few more of these"
 
So number five's over and that's that.
Hasn't it left you feeling flat?
Who's coming up with the next title?
Something lively, clever and vital....
"Folded Flannel" came to mind
but others might have an axe to grind.
I wait for six with bated breath,
Here's hoping I don't die a death...
once more.
 
OT said:

you smile
i grin

you glance
i look

you wink
i blink

you feel
i touch

 
 
                hey girrrrl
                i am stingy
                you are tight
                let's do business!

       
Senna Jawa
 
....and now, the weather for the west coast to-day.

Oh! Now look. What a pain
Once more cloudy, once more rain.
Don't you grumble don't complain!
Turn your narrow view to those
Who battle record-breaking snows
and suffer frost-bite of the nose.
Aren't you lucky you have flowers
Even if they're hit by showers?
You're not shovelling for hours.
Don't have snow plough drivers who
reblock your drive and wave at you
knowing you had just got through
Two full hours of piling high
Filthy white stuff from the sky!
 
here goes

there goes, we goes, it goes, some goes potty
"It is not as goes," says a stranger.
A lost and perplexed stranger needing nothing.
The lives go on. The stranger drifts into
the sets for bringing out later.

Scene II,
never write a play late at night in a forum.
it causes one to open.

end of monologe,
all lust is made into those stringed puppets
not kites
what a shame
 
everybody (or so it seems)

everybody (or so it seems) wants to be
e.e. cummings, so detached
we study form and flow
so modern and aloof
and are we really saying anything?

like 'Cambridge Ladies' oblivious
to the world that's tumbling down
so detached, we write
aloft on intellectual precipices
that's everybody (or so it seems)

and everybody is strong
that eternal mysterious 'they'
nameless evil, faceless fears
that's everybody (or so it seems) there
even as everybody, we are alone
 
Sea spectrum

Stony grey you looked at me
unfeeling in your glare
Tasteless and tactless
Blunt and unforgiving as the sea

And I could still taste you
Salty, briny, warm
As if that meant anything
In your eyes so stormy blue

As full as I had been
only moments before
Couldn't imagine I could
feel so empty, drained and green

So now I drift alone
tossed on the whim of the tide
Dark as muddy water
and pale as sun-bleached bone
 
SHOUT MY NAME

I am the night
when in the wind
your voice
SHOUTS MY NAME!

Do you fear in the wild
that garden urge to me.
I'd love to sit
and inch by inch
be as if you see.

I my lover:
break of weakness
with marks of flame.

But I my friend:
break of weakness, multitudes of marks.
I had lag
break of weakness, marks in clay.

Trodden with cold silver wire
trodden with cold and from the pale palette
then strong, they live in my mark.
Trodden with me
and pointing to tell thy Maker of me.

Unblushing, my rose tree
and with a tear
unblushing, my rose turned to rise
fresh in the new cloth of day.

Do you grace us
with time-worn talk
or the dread hand of darkness
and future sees
with time-wornnot white hair?

And tune your brain
with what that dead hand brings
and yet you love the wild
And tune my Father's speak!

Oh, do you grace us
with time-worn talk
with time-worn walk
God through an Angel told my soul,
"Pretty, pretty rose turned away from the fold."
 
Cumbersome-
She waits silently for him to despell his demon,
Still he drinks,
He drinks of his own lifeforce-
and drowns her tears with the alcohol.

Smugly-
You won't ever leave me.
Still he drinks,
He drinks of his unborn child now-
and drowns its chance of being.

Apathetic-
I wish you would leave,
He will always drink,
He drinks of your soul-
and drowns your chance of soaring.






This is for my sister, whom always needs to save someone but ends up losing pieces of herself. I love you sis.:rose:
 
Lost

Lost again
too drunk to see
much less care
that I am lost

Here again
too blind to see
and who cares
that I am lost

Back again
too dumb to see
that you care
that I am lost

You again
so smart to see
no one cares
that I am lost

.....except you.
 
Lonely

I never told you
just how lonely you make me
even when you are here

-for my lovely Jeremy.
Come back home darlin.
 
Poetic mood

Happily masochistic
I am in a poetic mood
Drowning my sorrows in JD
and wishing you could be you.

Luckily optimistic
I am in a sarcastic mood
Drowning in your apathy
and wishing you were you.

Thankfully realistic
I am in a depressed mood
Drowning in half-digested dreams
and wishing you weren't you.
 
Ridiculous

You know me, darling, so well.
And you know as well as I do....
I
Hate
feeling
Ridiculous.
And lost.
That too.
And here you are, making me feel both.
Lost and stupid and plain out
fucking
Ridiculous.
So I am pouring out my heart
In no particular fashion,
passion,
And hoping that one day
All will be right.
and I will be
sane
found
anything
but lost!!!
And ridiculous.
 
Marrying Kind of Guy

Did I say the insane thing
something about a wedding ring?
well, true I hear it in my ears
I hope to make it past my fears
but, honey, there's no living in a song
I think you got my message wrong.

Yes, I did...
Yes, I do, but...

Oh, I'm hopeless....
Pack, I'm fine!
I hope you make it
out in time;
What? aw, please
please don't cry
I can't do it and
you know the why,
I'm just not the marrying
kind of guy!

Did I say the insane thing
something about a wedding ring?
well, true I hear it in my ears
I hope to make it past my fears
but, honey, there's no living in a song
I think you got my message wrong?

Yes, I do!
 
We're Not The Same

I raise morning shades to familiarity
not expecting stucco to be pink and smooth
nor brick across the way to be thatched

I know soles will not sink into noon marsh
nor palms block midday moon

I will sleep in comfort against cool texture
not in space nor ocean
never again restless in your dreams
 
* * * * *



On Doing Laundry


Oh! Look at this
A sock I see
One to match
I Count three!


* * * * *

Ever folding things,
Mythos
 
Loud shouts of "Hurray"
heard above
the dripping din
of winter decay.
 
pop toys
pop quiz
in the afternoons
of March long
not melting fast enough

no end in sight so
go around back
so mention green things

eat soup
drink ice
 
final days

old banks weep and
drool down the drain

magnificent season
seeps into the ground
 
travel weary

cramped commuter plane
drones loud and drowns
with white noise
what remains of my brain
lulled dull by bureaucrats
 
See what you do to me?
You make me crazy
and lazy
and maybe
you'll let me
set you free
I want you to be
so high you can't see...
 
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