all of a sudden passion suddenly

exhale loooong drawn out
shoulders hunch forward
toward a heart that
moments earlier
tried to hammer its way
from my chest

head down
four hands rest
on four knees
four feet stand
in
watery droplets

oxygen is so thin
my lungs ache
in relief.

Thank you for the comments I just wish I had the intelligence to focus it more than just instinctively writing.

without that instinct, there's no poetry worth shit. in my everso 'umble opinion.:p
technique is stuff we learn along the way of the doing.

your second piece? it held its breath, it ached, it resonated
if anything, it was better than the first. tighter. you had me exhaling and almost shaking at the end, with a tear (or two) in my eye. THAT's what i call writing.
 
without that instinct, there's no poetry worth shit. in my everso 'umble opinion.:p
technique is stuff we learn along the way of the doing.

your second piece? it held its breath, it ached, it resonated
if anything, it was better than the first. tighter. you had me exhaling and almost shaking at the end, with a tear (or two) in my eye. THAT's what i call writing.

They are both part of the same piece, I just Need to get my shit together and edit them to be whole.
 
They are both part of the same piece, I just Need to get my shit together and edit them to be whole.

yeah, when you're done with the shakin' knees :cool: give yourself a moment to catch your breath, man. :rose:
 
Apples and pears
take me upstairs
Cover in cream
Then lick me clean
My cherry is burst
all over this place
It could have been worse
Just one splash on my face
Banana, banana, been in her, been outta
She was easy-peasey lemon squeezy
I scream, you scream, we all scream for icecream
and now I have run out of juice

Please be gentle with me, I have not posted her before
light-hearted take on passion(fruit), and your banana line gave me a grin. :cattail:
 
The door opens
my senses are assaulted
the scent is a weight that hits
like a heavyweight boxer

Roof cracked with a leaking gap
junk hoarded in every corner
precarious stacks of this and that

A name scrawled on the wall
in high gloss pink
Amy and I wonder as I wander
how people can live in this hovel

the alarm blares in a flash of
High pitched scream, every room
Has seen neither mop nor broom
for what seems like centuries
the gloom cast by heavy magenta drapes
scrapes the light from my eyes

I feel like Gollum in the drab and dank
mould crawls up the walls
fungal life thrives
I stay to crouch as if the very house
May eat me alive

door hangs off it's hinges
beakers of glass used for the illegal
are linked by tubes and hoses abandoned
the floor boards bear the scars of abuse

one room with a bed in it
there the name again Amy
and it seems so happy
A smile from darkness
 
I spent a long time here reading this morning

(The) door opens, (my) senses (are) assaulted
(the) scent (is) a weight that hits
like a heavyweight boxer

Roof cracked with a leaking gap
junk hoarded in every corner
precarious stacks of this and that

A name scrawled on the wall
in high gloss pink
Amy and I wonder as I wander
how people can live in this hovel

the alarm blares in a flash of
High pitched scream, every room
Has seen neither mop nor broom
for what seems like centuries
the gloom cast by heavy magenta drapes
scrapes the light from my eyes

I feel like Gollum in the drab and dank
mould crawls up the walls
fungal life thrives
I stay to crouch as if the very house
May eat me alive

door hangs off it's hinges
beakers of glass used for the illegal
are linked by tubes and hoses abandoned
the floor boards bear the scars of abuse

one room with a bed in it
there the name again Amy
and it seems so happy
A smile from darkness
 
Tod, this created such a vivd picture. I felt as if you walked into the house on my street similar to this. Less the hoarding status but with much crammed in and stored...But then destroyed with smashed furniture, broken lamps, spray painted obscenities, a girl's name labeled as slut, floor lit on fire at some point.
This truly struck a nerve with me...

I have a couple minor suggestions that you can take or leave:

the scent is a weight that hits - remove the

Amy and I wonder as I wander - add a comma after Amy; as is, it reads she and I wonder, rather than a new thought starting

mould crawls up the walls - mold (spelling)

door hangs off it's hinges - as mentioned previously, its (punctuation)

there the name again Amy - this one is strictly an artistic suggestion and could be way off base but find a way to ass stress to Amy. Perhaps a comma or ...

I really appreciated this poem. Thank you for sharing it.
 
Tod, this created such a vivd picture. I felt as if you walked into the house on my street similar to this. Less the hoarding status but with much crammed in and stored...But then destroyed with smashed furniture, broken lamps, spray painted obscenities, a girl's name labeled as slut, floor lit on fire at some point.
This truly struck a nerve with me...

I have a couple minor suggestions that you can take or leave:

the scent is a weight that hits - remove the

Amy and I wonder as I wander - add a comma after Amy; as is, it reads she and I wonder, rather than a new thought starting

mould crawls up the walls - mold (spelling)

door hangs off it's hinges - as mentioned previously, its (punctuation)

there the name again Amy - this one is strictly an artistic suggestion and could be way off base but find a way to ass stress to Amy. Perhaps a comma or ...

I really appreciated this poem. Thank you for sharing it.

This is one of them:

door hangs off it's hinges

it's should be its

Thank you for your insights they help, I apologise for most of my mistakes, about 85% of what I write is done on a phone, so its a pain in the ass to write, and harder than it has been
____________________________________________________________________________

w
I was amused by:
A name scrawled on the wall
in high gloss pink

Immediately thinking of 12's poem ...fucking pink... a walk on the path

that poem rocks.
 
trust and surrender

Let me in..
to the depth of you
let the guards
on the fortress walls
relax

for a while
all those things that swirl
a storm of maelstrom
in your head

drop them,
take my hand
and
be you
without the stress

and when you lie down
to rest
body aches in a way
that makes you smile
purr a hum of content
let my hands ease
you off to sleep

and let your dreams
be of what we shared
 
Let me in..
to the depth of you
let the guards
on the fortress walls
relax

for a while
all those things that swirl
a storm of maelstrom
in your head

drop them,
take my hand
and
be you
without the stress

and when you lie down
to rest
body aches in a way
that makes you smile
purr a hum of content
let my hands ease
you off to sleep

and let your dreams
be of what we shared

You make it seem so easy...
I only hope one day it can come as easy for me as it does for you.
 
I was amused by:
A name scrawled on the wall
in high gloss pink

Immediately thinking of 12's poem ...fucking pink... a walk on the path
Billy must be widely traveled
just read what butters had to say, regarding:
A black car pulls up to the curbside

buckles and clips unclasped
an errant brick sticks from
amid the rubble ridden road-
side path


you're getting good with this shit
 
"Sweet love". Is there love that isn't sweet?

Something about this comment rankled me. I've been chewing on it for the last few hours. Somewhere in me there's a poem about an unsweet love. As soon as I tease it out I'll come back with it. For now though, this is what my brain decided to emit.

Love Is Sweat

On your hands
that won't wipe away
when you look in his eyes
and forget what to say

On your brow
as knuckles meet door
when his mama answers
you'll get the what-for.

On your back
then and still to this day
when he gets on his knees
making you pray.

On your lip
that trembles so with fear
as you for a line
on a stick to appear.

Everywhere
while you thrash and you scream
MOTHER FUCKER THAT HURTS!
But oh! What a dream.
 
Well, Trixareforkids. It's unnecessary to feel rankled. "Love" is one of those words that mean so many things to different people that they often mean nothing. An ontological nightmare.

In the context in which it was used (in Matryoshka's poem), I felt that "sweet" was overkill — too romantic, considering what was being said around it, which was carnal.
 
Well, Trixareforkids. It's unnecessary to feel rankled. "Love" is one of those words that mean so many things to different people that they often mean nothing. An ontological nightmare.

In the context in which it was used (in Matryoshka's poem), I felt that "sweet" was overkill — too romantic, considering what was being said around it, which was carnal.

I wasn't rankled by the context, I'll be trying to use that advice myself. The question itself is what roused my whisperer and now it's buzzing away in my ear. I'll be happy once I can make out what it's saying.

And ah, those pesky unnecessary feelings. The buzzing is getting louder. These are great threads for inspiration.
 
You Could Have Done Much Better

There you were, a holo
of helplessness pleading
for an aging hero to rise
into a role set aside
to watch over the male.

Ahh, the male, the man,
I'd have thought women
would have progressed
beyond the constraints
of the nonsense spouted
here, in a galaxy
far, far away from Alderan

You, Leia, were a senator;
a ruler of a World!
And yet you yeild
to a "space pirate". Really!?

I mean what-the-hell, Princess?
Some free-booter smuggler
steals the heart of a leader
in a galatic rebellion
and you let him sweep
you away and out of authority.

He will never be a politician,
he will never understand
that you are more than a womb
for his children to incubate
within. Be careful, Leia,

they'll make you give
your crown to that blue-
glowing phallic symbol waving
twin of yours and then mute
your style with motherhood.

Ahhh, Princess Leia, meant
to be more yet content
in a timeless routine,
an important duty,
a relentless responsibility.
It becomes you but really,
you should have been the Queen.
 
You Could Have Done Much Better

There you were, a holo
of helplessness pleading
for an aging hero to rise
into a role set aside
to watch over the male.

Ahh, the male, the man,
I'd have thought women
would have progressed
beyond the constraints
of the nonsense spouted
here, in a galaxy
far, far away from Alderan

You, Leia, were a senator;
a ruler of a World!
And yet you yeild
to a "space pirate". Really!?

I mean what-the-hell, Princess?
Some free-booter smuggler
steals the heart of a leader
in a galatic rebellion
and you let him sweep
you away and out of authority.

He will never be a politician,
he will never understand
that you are more than a womb
for his children to incubate
within. Be careful, Leia,

they'll make you give
your crown to that blue-
glowing phallic symbol waving
twin of yours and then mute
your style with motherhood.

Ahhh, Princess Leia, meant
to be more yet content
in a timeless routine,
an important duty,
a relentless responsibility.
It becomes you but really,
you should have been the Queen.

To be fair, she only let the rogue sweep her away after her planet was blown up. By then, she was senator of nowhere. :)
 
You Could Have Done Much Better

There you were, a holo
of helplessness pleading
for an aging hero to rise
into a role set aside
to watch over the male.

Ahh, the male, the man,
I'd have thought women
would have progressed
beyond the constraints
of the nonsense spouted
here, in a galaxy
far, far away from Alderan

You, Leia, were a senator;
a ruler of a World!
And yet you yeild
to a "space pirate". Really!?

I mean what-the-hell, Princess?
Some free-booter smuggler
steals the heart of a leader
in a galatic rebellion
and you let him sweep
you away and out of authority.

He will never be a politician,
he will never understand
that you are more than a womb
for his children to incubate
within. Be careful, Leia,

they'll make you give
your crown to that blue-
glowing phallic symbol waving
twin of yours and then mute
your style with motherhood.

Ahhh, Princess Leia, meant
to be more yet content
in a timeless routine,
an important duty,
a relentless responsibility.
It becomes you but really,
you should have been the Queen.


To be fair from his point of view
he had bigger fish to fry
than try to win the hand of
some head strong woman
there was plunder and danger
light years traversed in moments
free from the likes of the law

a freebooting strut, a swagger

and in she rolls all demanding
and bossy
and he had the audacity to put her
in her place, to disqualify her
status

tell her straight and face to face
that he didn't care who she was
and
she chased, to try to place herself
on a pedestal he kept kicking out
from under her
until she prostrate before him
found out what a real man was

so all her potential abandoned
but to nurture a man and follow his lead
how is that a wrong on the universe?
 
We meet every Friday
for afternoon coffee
and a-chat.
Today though,
you ask me
...

Have you ever considered leaving?

You're eyes were so intent that I knew
what you were you really asking,
the question you actually wanted answered
.

I answered both,
At least once a year-
I think of it as, spring cleaning-
I go through the
relationship closet.
Everything gets pulled out and
I either dust it off,
putting it back,
Or I toss it in the rubbish bin.
When I'm done,
I look at the two.
If the closet is fuller,
I stay
work on-clearing out the rubbish.

Eyes bright he asks,
And if the rubbish bin is fuller?

If the rubbish bin
is ever the fuller,
I'll pack what's in the closet-
to keep me warm
when I'm feeling cold-
and I'd leave the rubbish.

You nodded as a tear rolled down your cheek.

I ask,
Shall I help you pack dear?

No.
Thank you.
I think...
I think, from now on,
I'll help with the spring cleaning
.

I'd like that dear.

Well shit I'm sappy. Made myself cry.

Okay. Better? Clearer? It feels less powerful, but then maybe it only felt powerful to me in the 1st place. Figured I'd do the edits down here since I'd already accidentally hit quote instead of edit.
 
Last edited:
They met every Friday for afternoon coffee
Usually just light chatter and a parting kiss
Then he asked
Have you ever considered leaving your husband
His eyes were so intent that I knew
What he wasn't asking me
The question he really wanted answered
I answered both

At least once a year
I think of it as
Spring cleaning
I go through the
Relationship closet
Everything gets pulled out
I either dust it off
Putting it back
Or I toss it in the rubbish bin

When I'm done
I look at the two
If the closet is fuller
I stay and work on
Clearing out the rubbish

And if the rubbish bin is fuller

If the rubbish bin
Is ever the fuller
I'll pack what was in the closet
To keep me warm
When I'm feeling cold
And I'd leave the rubbish
For him to clean

He nodded as a tear rolled down his cheek

Shall I help you pack dear

No
Thank you
I think
I'll help
With the spring cleaning
From now on

I'd like that dear

Ouch.
 
Screaming at the dishevelled
hair as it lays
in its own vomit,
bottle of rum for breakfast
she's not as think as you
pissed she is,

Isa allight..blood shot
piss holes stare from hollow cheeks
I drag her to the shower
turn on the heat

Mum, when will this end.....
 
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