all of a sudden passion suddenly

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similar to the old, "writing live" thread.
Poems written with no time restrictions but
complete ASAP, submitted and then regretted.
no copy pasted, no mushrooms on the pizza.
no rewriting!
Like life. It's sudden. It's all passion.
 
thinking
thinking
there are birds
three birds
a lie, I wrote a lie
I lay soon
but can only think of one thing
you know
you know
but it is ankle below my love
a chain, a rock, a place to taste
place a mirror, point at ourselves
giggle, breath and again
 
I said fucking machine
you said poppycock
he's on auto
banging the wall
while wisp of man
with eternal tongue
keeps me coming for more

sorry about blue bottle
corks were popped that night
by candle light
while it all played out
for unseen neighbors' sight

now you worry about stacking
stacks are equal
just leaning in different ways
 
Words
sparkle
in the forest of sleep
and their rumour
of pursued hinds
agile and coy
like the wind
talks of love
and loneliness:
those who hurt you
don't hurt you in vain,
words.
 
because I can't tell what you look like
in a heated place or chilled
with warm hair, hood in reserve
the interruptions are bait
it makes us real more
the kindness the pitter
the animal crackers
the milk and jello
the patter
on snow, wine flow
 
I need circles
round, neverending
knowing where I'm going
where I'll end up

triganles confuse me
spread me wide
then cramp me at the tip
 
Side
by side
on earth's coarse
dictionary
sweat
foul word
that unleashes
warmth
and the syllables
of dew
the freezing
cold pain
of water




I don't know if I cheated, but I did use a dictionary for this one. Opened it randomly and the top words on the page were 'sweat' and 'syllable'
 
my right arm sweeps
to the heavens
to the waiting room
with tables in a row
this is what should be
convention food
prbabaly chickn or chicken taste alike
or craters from the moon by UPS

back in my room we don't talk to any one
so much kissing, so much to account for
counting down and up
up and down

there is a spiral in here
we could call the front desk or just let it spin
 
they dance to country
while fingers tap the keys -
"I love the way you love me."
what do they know,
little children?
Welcome to the adult world, Eve.
now you know.
 
I want to be crazy in love
can I go insane with you?
can a straight jacket be kinky?
wanna get inside with me?
we can play houdini...
how crazy is that?
 
okay, kids
turn that damn country music off
it's making momma crazy
gonna cry
god, country is depressing
and desperate!
I need a man like I need a cig
wanna stick 6 inches in my mouth
and puff, puff, puff
and blow him through the room
 
what the hell
raw is good
good
for nothing
maybe yet
raw means real and strong
and sometimes allows for timid textures of self
to seep to the surface
with the excuse of unfettered
flowing feelings that might be
mocked if written and published on
purpose
after a period of pondering

raw is real
and good.
 
Charlie Haden
is competing with the fugue
in the den

sometimes it is noise

but when the keys mesh
call it luck's quantum flux
 
country dies
when radio splinters
'cross the floor
bits stuck in the wood
only momma understood
 
she wrote dreams of love with her
thighs like peach ice cream
but they took her away
for crimes of redaction
and locked her away in a
meringue-walled room
 
glad we talked today
in our unusal way.
yeah, we're stange,
aren't you glad?

when I die
and they display my remains
want old folks and young -
not naming names -
to recall good mom,
nice enough gal
but want you to stand there
and smile in that odd way
as you taste memories
and swallow secrets.
 
Boldly dream
as if you can make anything so
as if you can escape from real life crap
that viscously traps and mires desires
in mundane logistical voids that become
deep frightening trenches that over the years
fill up with leftover love that spoil and turn
unused lust to dust and smut in the rut
of existence.
Boldly dream,
Don't only dream.
Make it so.
 
you smile
i grin

you glance
i look

you wink
i blink

you feel
i touch

if you save some time
i'll spend some time

opposing motions
flesh collides

how delightful that we differ
 
How do I love you?
Let me count the waves
the sea is always open
and on the shore it laves.

How do I love you?
More than I can tell
my heart is always open
I only wish you well.

Regards,                       Rybka
 
time of assassins
of myths of C4 of taboos
of engineers of verses perverse rhythms

time of rock organizing within
hastily
with random colours cities tempests

ephemeral cages despite
of steel
of sane arson of matter
the bravery the softness of matter

time that grows green in aridity in heat in ruin
of men of rock
of rocks of war

that we are
that we scutinize
 
hayden? haden? hey charlie, got a moment to change my life?

oh my god
charlie who?
slight big strummer
he may shake my hand some day
(fantasy, he wonders about the boneheads)
with glasses

then there is the loneliest blues
when there is not sound
just the blue silence
of tty and hand signals
and passion accumulating

there is salad too
sorry, need to say...
salad spread upon your small back
dressing pooling in dimples with strands
I may never leave this place.

look at your self sideways
then look at me that way.
line up your friends and pets
do things to make them smile
from the rear, then lay
the camera on the floor
timer armed
flash
flash

Stop The War
Stop The War
 
word of your body
ablaze
in my body's word

until we are
one word
silent

and

my body's word
thaws
on the word of your body
 
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