writing live

[HarryHill]

Vent

Hot air escapes from collar
convergent plates grind, slipping
one under the other
magma flows upward
steam escapes through twisted fissures
caldera fills with thick rock
heated by the pressure of two land masses
grating against the other
eruption seems imminent
time to evacuate

 

[Spyware2013]

Butters

Butters a vision transluscent
Advances shes always refusin
without a good toungin
In my shower you aint cummin
And I can produce my own lubricant

 

[butters]

Butters a vision transluscent
Advances shes always refusin
without a good toungin
In my shower you aint cummin
And I can produce my own lubricant

*raises an eyebrow*

dodgy last line, re scansion, spyware...

 

[butters]

caldera fills with thick rock
heated by the pressure of two land masses
grating against the other
eruption seems imminent

that part's pretty sexy, taken out of context... just sayin'

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

*raises an eyebrow*

dodgy last line, re scansion, spyware...

Some one is pinin' for a good butterin'. Cold showers...and shoulders ....all round.

 

[butters]

Some one is pinin' for a good butterin'. Cold showers...and shoulders ....all round.

cold showers - and shoulders - all round
keep light-treadin' feet on the ground
is spyware a scoundrel?
his poem don'ts sounds well
you can't trust a bounder, i've found

 

[HarryHill]

Some one is pinin' for a good butterin'. Cold showers...and shoulders ....all round.

....

 

[HarryHill]

that part's pretty sexy, taken out of context... just sayin'

..
What da you know?
even in adversity.....

 

[butters]

..
What da you know?
even in adversity.....

serendipitous undercurrents

 

[butters]

he stares beyond the mirror's liquid gaze
sees her face in his eyes, sharing space
her thoughts in his and his enjoined in hers
and eyes' and mirror's feedback become blurs

to stare too long can mean to trip, to fall
between the silvered glass of love's fay call

 

[HarryHill]

he stares beyond the mirror's liquid gaze
sees her face in his eyes, sharing space
her thoughts in his and his enjoined in hers
and eyes' and mirror's feedback become blurs

to stare too long can mean to trip, to fall
between the silvered glass of love's fay call

very nice, going to think about this for awhile. the last two lines!
..
Had my reply all worked out in that hour awake before rising, all gone now as I search for that one word that everything turns on

 

[todski28]

double post

 

[todski28]

Their eyes like two mirrors
stood face to face reflect
infinite images of
each other bound
in opposing sight.

 

[butters]

Their eyes like two mirrors
stood face to face reflect
infinite images of
each other bound
in opposing sight.

awesome mental image!

 

[butters]

view from my window

should the day come
when the morning star has fled the sky
discovered, new, in some astronomer's glass
no bitter tears
nor winter's curtains drawn

look to the crystal prism
the pale star shines still

 

[bogusagain]

my home was my own
until she stayed the night
and colonised my life

gone was my whisky
hot chocolate served up
with toasted marshmallow

my cigar a foul intrusion
banished to the balcony
with me a dumb appendage

my books back on the shelf
my CDs back in the rack
and a cunt in my bed

she promised me sex
she delivered me hell
and all I can do

is bitch on Lit!

 

[HarryHill]

A Detached View of Reality

6:47

What words could be so asinine
to believe such thoughts as mine
able to look past the pale moon of hope
where fiction and fact combine in the long line of continuity
That place where the third symbol
completes the equation
Opens the door
reveals the shining path

I see it
that line
undulating under my foot
as I stride toward that mirrored surface of your soap bubbled door
pop through and stand beside you
ask if you'd care to join me
looking for the place
where Oldmen are born
where pink pads are stacked beside their bubbled trap door
and those that blunder there
rip the placenta of their reality
fall onto the shining paths
newborn
looking for any Tom, Dick or...

So, what is real and what is not
*shakes head*
all above is true if you believe in fairytales
higher mathematics
and wishing on a pale moon
7:53

 

[HarryHill]

my home was my own
until she stayed the night
and colonised my life

gone was my whisky
hot chocolate served up
with toasted marshmallow

my cigar a foul intrusion
banished to the balcony
with me a dumb appendage

my books back on the shelf
my CDs back in the rack
and a cunt in my bed

she promised me sex
she delivered me hell
and all I can do

is bitch on Lit!

Tell her to give you some head
rip the covers from the bed
hand her the phone book
ask her to find you a good escort service
or bitch on lit

 

[butters]

on a red couch

she shuts her eyes
parts her lips
recites her lines

knowing the part's already hers
director's just priming the props

 

[HarryHill]

6:58

I walked down the hill today
long before eyes opened
sat under the cedars
beside limestone blocks of grey
spring house walls, roof long gone
where water still runs sweet
through ruins of roofs retreat

I walked down the hill 'fore dawn
to a deep basin filled with silt
knowing I could clear it all
if I just had the balls to crawl
inside those claustrophobic walls
knee deep in mud and scoop
but the press of stone found there
raised hackles in my hair
woke me up, chilled, feverish
craving a tall glass
of fluorinated city water

7:37

 

[HarryHill]

Writing live is a love/hate experience when a poem has a mind of it's own

 

[HarryHill]

Tease

His black heart pounded as he drove his car forward, screaming tires through the red light. Things got really bad for him as he tried his cell phone and had no service. He sped away over the streets toward his house. The lights of the pursuing vehicles were close behind.

..
Oh Shit! Chapter 12's hit
The editors desk
*Pause for station identification*

 

[butters]

..
Oh Shit! Chapter 12's hit
The editors desk
*Pause for station identification*

*say position*

 

[HarryHill]

*say position*

In the city beside the great river
at the center of slices of Pi
dividing in their circumference
Fay invasion drops from the sky

 

[butters]

6:58

I walked down the hill today
long before eyes opened
sat under the cedars
beside limestone blocks of grey
spring house walls, roof long gone
where water still runs sweet
through ruins of roofs retreat

I walked down the hill 'fore dawn
to a deep basin filled with silt
knowing I could clear it all
if I just had the balls to crawl
inside those claustrophobic walls
knee deep in mud and scoop
but the press of stone found there
raised hackles in my hair
woke me up, chilled, feverish
craving a tall glass
of fluorinated city water

7:37

*reads and re-reads, stuck in my head*

begin |20:20|

when your balls
try to crawl
inside the cradle of your pelvis
and hairs lift
at the crucifix of spine and scapula
when the dark presses damp against you
snarl's it's not alright! inside your mind
mud's cold cling weights your escape
and oxygen eludes your lungs

a pulsing pounding at your temple
beats it's not enough, it's not enough

end |20:29|