A tumbling wave of fire
Wreaks havoc in the pit,
Cuts through to the surface
Forcing painful wakefulness,
Moves me on trembling feet,
Brings me low, to my knees,
Mocks me as it leaves me
Feeling cold and sick,
But also mercifully
Free from strings.
last time I saw you
you were on all fours
panting as I thrust
my anger into you
I was jealous didn't
want you to see him
you wouldn't listen
so I didn't care,
your oh god I'm gonna cum,
my cue to pull out,
pull my pants up,
buckle my belt and leave
gave you no second chance
no time for thought
a frozen moment of malice
drank from the chalice of
the jealous
all these years later I saw
you again in the shopping
mall, you looked at me
there was a burning need
in your eyes to finish what
we had begun
I walked on the tang
of jealousy
still on my tongue
24 hours and counting down
give or take a few
before i feel able to restake my claim
plant my flag
announce 'mine' on these mild walls again
these rooms this place - my bath...
bagging up forgotten underwear
dirty t-shirts
a shoe
The limbs reach for the sky only
to touch a cold sun. Even that
is enough warmth for a spider
to feel, to venture, to feed
hungry Black-capped Chickadees.
waiting for the quiet
time the unrequited
kinder time the easy
kind of sunny sway
when Tom O'Bedlam's
caw and bawl give
way to song and words
that play in harmony
some warmer day
bare, brittle yet unbowed
your boughs bend
but do not yield
to the pressure of the wind
nor the magpie who
tries to open the suet
cage to hoard it for himself.
So? He kissed me just
as others kissed around us
and the final count down
reached zero hour
Hands on my bare shoulders
(Remember? I did asked you
if it was too daring) then grasping
my waist. I closed my eyes as
his arms drew me to him
and revealed his arousal.
How long did we remain
tongue tied, lip locked,
hip hugging? Well into the
new year and what next?
I disentangled, saw you
watching and knew you'd
ask. So, who did you kiss?
old friend
where have you been?
that dry mouthed
hunger I breathe
every damn time,
crave you to satisfy
the dire need deep in me
seeds there
watered and fed
like all weeds
the smallest hold you
get you cling
grow, wring out life,
strangle it off
with snaking tendrils
burrow and reap
a crop of bleary eyed
mind altered steeped
in inorganic substance
partially conscious
blanket suffocates life
nothing left to contemplate
insensate nerves feel
tingles that burn
yearn for a turn
yet the brain begs
it cries, it feels like you die
body wracked in spasms
shakes and trembles that make
you want to ring up
that old friend
and whisper all your secrets
feel something other than
She wondered
about the Tin Man's heart.
He seemed trusting specially
when he cried orange tears,
and surely a brain sparked
in all that hay more than
theorems or fear
of fire. She knew Cowardice
personally as if he were
a member of the family
that she loved and coaxed
to distraction.
She couldn't help it
if she didn't believe in wizards,
having traveled all that flat
land being spun so hard
in the storm.
let's keep this short
a piece because
i ought
one lid already low
previewing dreams
as slow
two-fingered tyying
t y p i n g [doh!]
slidesssssssssssss
clumps of sluggish letters
reluctant row
Sure the lights are great
in autumn but for now,
it's just dark, well,
short hours of slanty sun
at latitude 54 degrees
isn't light, not there
where the eerie blue-green
howls at the overflowing
milky way, and stirs
magnetic forces into spiral
galaxies right here,
in my atmosphere.
Be my guest
kiss this dark, sweet
seduction
in a glass so small to
eyes used to
milky mugs it hardly
seems worthwhile.
But it sweetens
the senses
bringing smiles
to sullen faces.
Merry-go-round;
the conniving and the blind
holding hands.
Each soul is meat
being ground
in this stroll
round and round;
the machine is in for a treat.
We watch the weeping willow tree
that wavers through the windowpane
in bed above the bakery
that wavers through the windowpane
the room's too ripe, the scent of bread
rises from the grate though we complain
the room's too ripe, the scent of bread
is quickening the air we don't care
for we are warm the scent we spread
is quickening the air we don't care
we grip the formless day welcome night
listen to moans saxophones unaware
we grip the formless day welcome night
to bless the room the moon the swaying limbs
the way we shine in silver light
to bless the room the moon the swaying limbs
we watch the weeping willow tree
to bless the room the moon the swaying limbs
we watch the weeping willow tree