writing live

[Graf_Severin]

Wow!

It wouldn't post the first time because Lit requires 5 letters, so..

Wow! Wow!

Ha, thank you! I'm glad I discovered this thread, so I'm/we're pushed to produce in the moment. Always a smart tactic to do away with the inner editor.

 

[HarryHill]

Kenny died again just about the time Ma'am got home from church,
eighty eight years of worship and she's still a sinner,
bent on the apicide of those wood bees,
making homes in the rafters of the garage
thou shat not kill, but
shit on my car and you die little bastards
so just to even things up a bit
while she bought traps I bought a hive

 

[butters]

Kenny died again just about the time Ma'am got home from church,
eighty eight years of worship and she's still a sinner,
bent on the apicide of those wood bees,
making homes in the rafters of the garage
thou shat not kill, but
shit on my car and you die little bastards
so just to even things up a bit
while she bought traps I bought a hive

aha! this just answered the question i pm'd you

 

[HarryHill]

aha! this just answered the question i pm'd you

..
Next you'll be wanting to know who Kenny is

 

[butters]

..
Next you'll be wanting to know who Kenny is

with a name like butters, imma guessing we're talking south park here

 

[HarryHill]

with a name like butters, imma guessing we're talking south park here

,, there's a butters in south park?

 

[butters]

,, there's a butters in south park?

so it wasn't an 'oh my god! somebody's killed kenny!' again moment on southpark? if not, i'm missing the reference

sure, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Butters_Stotch

 

[Trixareforkids]

Removed

 

[HarryHill]

so it wasn't an 'oh my god! somebody's killed kenny!' again moment on southpark? if not, i'm missing the reference

sure, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Butters_Stotch

You see how much I watch never knew that
yes Kenny died... Microwaved

 

[butters]

You see how much I watch never knew that
yes Kenny died... Microwaved

the bastards! Ping!

 

[HarryHill]

the bastards! Ping!

Hah!

You've waited so long for the world to thaw
looked into the maw of winter, months without end,
cherished boots and thermal underwear
above any financial gain, but still
joints congealed in the onslaught of December's draughts
eyes frozen on the calendar
then the first bright days of May arrive
and you rush into the blaze of sun
finding with sudden realization that
you're melting

 

[butters]

Hah!

You've waited so long for the world to thaw
looked into the maw of winter, months without end,
cherished boots and thermal underwear
above any financial gain, but still
joints congealed in the onslaught of December's draughts
eyes frozen on the calendar
then the first bright days of May arrive
and you rush into the blaze of sun
finding with sudden realization that
you're melting

a crumpled pair of dungarees
a damp patch on the earth
she glanced, askance, at underdrawers
and rolled her eyes in mirth

 

[HarryHill]

a crumpled pair of dungarees
a damp patch on the earth
she glanced, askance, at underdrawers
and rolled her eyes in mirth

A row of tomatillos, muddy earth
laid deep with tracks of a pussy cat
last seen in the vicinity of a carrot patch
tail twisting over green

 

[Tzara]

Analogy

It is how an apple,
set here idly on the windowsill
too much resembles
my congested heart.

One a day
keeps the doctor away

we sing. We sing.

But
that it resembles a fist
smacked bang into my chest,

Well, you would know.

 

[HarryHill]

Old Mother Nellis, tottered downstairs to tell us,
a man was here today, looking for the two of you,
why he wouldnt say,
but he had the look of a rouge to him
and the devil in his eye

 

[Trixareforkids]

Removed

 

[HarryHill]

Where is that wild boy
the one that leapt from Devils Step
so many years ago
came up splashing
holding aching balls
bruised in the lofty fall
cursing and laughing in equal measure

the one that emptied the house of furniture
on Friday nights, partied in the front yard
until Sunday's rides to somewhere new
blasting out of the usually quiet street
leaving the scent of stale charcoal smoke
and neighbors peering out their windows

I miss him sometimes,
wonder where he's gotten to
if he's still alive

 

[Graf_Severin]

Analogy
...
But
that it resembles a fist
smacked bang into my chest,
...

Awesome. This makes it all work: "But / that it resembles a fist"

 

[butters]

Where is that wild boy
the one that leapt from Devils Step
so many years ago
came up splashing
holding aching balls
bruised in the lofty fall
cursing and laughing in equal measure

the one that emptied the house of furniture
on Friday nights, partied in the front yard
until Sunday's rides to somewhere new
blasting out of the usually quiet street
leaving the scent of stale charcoal smoke
and neighbors peering out their windows

I miss him sometimes,
wonder where he's gotten to
if he's still alive

he's looking back over his shoulder
with a nod and a wink

 

[Tzara]

Inkblot

This is how I see her, that
kind of fog about the eyebrows,
when she concentrates

on an odd word
in a book or something.
I like the arc of her neck

as she bends, focused
on the text she's reading over,
as if it held answers

to ultimate problems.
I guess instead, that we have these soft contours
of ink that form

blots on the page,
ambivalent figures, kiss here,
kiss there,

like that would satisfy
either of us, at any time.
So. Let me just tickle

your bare feet and
recite some kind of pledge, that could only mean
how I would huddle with your body anywhere.

 

[Graf_Severin]

I like the voice of this, Tzara, particularly your first stanza (see Paul Simon below). I like "pledge" and "huddle" at the end suggesting a kind of loyalty alongside intimacy.

"As if I didn't know my own bed / As if I'd never noticed / the way she brushed her hair from her forehead” - Paul Simon, Graceland

Inkblot

This is how I see her, that
kind of fog about the eyebrows,
when she concentrates

on an odd word
in a book or something.
I like the arc of her neck

as she bends, focused
on the text she's reading over,
as if it held answers

to ultimate problems.
I guess instead, that we have these soft contours
of ink that form

blots on the page,
ambivalent figures, kiss here,
kiss there,

like that would satisfy
either of us, at any time.
So. Let me just tickle

your bare feet and
recite some kind of pledge, that could only mean
how I would huddle with your body anywhere.

 

[Tzara]

Ambivalence

When I read your poems,
it is like I am
luxuriating in bed, robe off,
limbs spread to the air conditioning—

as if I were Icarus, before his wings melted.

Then I feel silly, though
I still want to ask you to come to Venice
with me, but you can sleep

in the other room.

 

[RhymeFairy]

Her lips, rogue red
rippled. A quiet lil dimple
begged a soft
lily
white

kiss. I watched
As every word, formed
molded
dressed up and

tiptoed
across

silken words,

formed. A dazzling, display of

a

delicate
dalliance ....

punching so softly
across my spine, nipples, nether
regions, regenerate, over
Over
Over again. Such


soft
tender, nippy
nipples
protrude. Perhaps,

Yes,
perhaps


I am mesmerized

by
her silken mumers.
Me thinks,

she, has bestowed
bewitched thine self
with ....

perhaps I dream, forage
partake
need

to hear those whispered
words, whelps, whips

across this arid desert.....




~~ LiveWriteIndeed hmmmmmmm.....
I'mmmm back.....

 

[butters]

the core of what i want to write so i don't forget

The Bookcase

a place of strange intimacies
where child star and priest
astronaut, plumber
boxer and queen
sit shoulder to shoulder
spines exposed
to the caress of eye, finger,
imagination-
those on the top shelf
gathering the same dust as the rest
all voices hushed
patiently waiting release

 

[HarryHill]

All my tomorrows, safe in your pocket,
nights tucked and bussed , sweet water laid beside
a host of dreams set to play,
sleep

Where have you gone smithpeter, in your candy apple red eternity machine,
screaming away far past the last filling station sign, side view mirrors long knocked off in your giddy ride, eyes fixed on the open cosmos before