writing live

[GuiltyPleasure]

They never do get it. We're not even trying to play that game. We're just writing.

......and she only has stories on file anyway. PMS?

 

[butters]

seeing beyond the horizon

god help the well-intentioned
god help us
from their righteous indignation

not that i expect any help from that quarter

good people
make mistakes too
and aren't above chumming the water
stirring up sludge
till everything's bloody and muddy opaque
then bewail lack of clarity

give me clear waters
so i can see
what not to tread on

 

[runningonblade]

What We Had Done Behind His Back

It was after I woke up on a Sunday
Inside a room with this wonderful bed
That I sat up and began to feel
This strong pounding going on in my head.

That was before I looked over at
The other side and saw Erica still sleeping
And as naked as I was which made me ask,
"Last night, what was it we were drinking?"

And when I got out of bed and went into
The bathroom to splash some cold water on
My face, I heard someone say, "I guess it
Was all of that irish whiskey by Jameson."

That made me step out of the bathroom
And see Erica sitting up with her shame
Filled eyes staring at me before she said,
"It's okay, Tom. I should take the blame."

That was when I saw a tear leaking out
Of her eye which made me sit next to
Erica and gently wipe that tear away before
I said, "Don't worry. I know what to do."

And while she was taking a shower,
I got on the phone and called Michael to let
Him know that my sister would be coming home
Soon with as much money as she could possibly get.

But what I was unable to tell Michael is that
Erica and I were fucking our brains out while drunk
And I don't want to break up a happy marriage
And be known as a stinking louse of a punk.

 

[butters]

blue sun
yellow sky
mud fish
quartz high

 

[HarryHill]

blue sun
yellow sky
mud fish
quartz high

10:40
and a fish would follow, silly Bass, eyeing the bait set forth so temptingly
and even knowing there's a hook, bite repeatedly
..
Evening smithpeter, did you wonder where I was,
or did you know all things turn in their own time,
a recursive line that leads back to the beginning
where I was broken, without two rhymes
to rub together and no heart to hold them
if I did
11:00

 

[butters]

bass player strums
plucks two-fingered
guitar moans
growls
trembles

 

[HarryHill]

bass player strums
plucks two-fingered
guitar moans
growls
trembles

9:32
Oh Blue Son,
pluck that yellow sky callin' bass;
play me a lullaby of groans n growling tremolo moans
while I nod n sway n mumble, 'moo baby moo'
take an occasional tumble and it's clear to all in the joint,
he's on a quartz high.
..
Stop laughing smithpeter.
10:01

 

[butters]

9:32
Oh Blue Son,
pluck that yellow sky callin' bass;
play me a lullaby of groans n growling tremolo moans
while I nod n sway n mumble, 'moo baby moo'
take an occasional tumble and it's clear to all in the joint,
he's on a quartz high.
..
Stop laughing smithpeter.
10:01

rollin'
stoned
fingers twitch, air-guitarin'
he's high on refraction
scales glitter as they fall from his eyes
wave changin'

 

[butters]

everywhere's beaded by light
drops strung on leaf tip
in hair
on the loosely hung phone lines
the railings
on cars
and sing notes of lamp light
as they shiver
and fall

 

[Remec]

Halos surround me
in the oddest places,
each with its own special
glow that is broadened
by the moist air

As much as I like rain,
both during and post,
I could do without
glassy sheened tarmac,

like driving on mirrors.

 

[butters]

driving on mirrors - that's such a cool phrase

 

[butters]

lights are off
the empty room
water runs down the glass wall
channeling light
funneling shadow
slow dancin'
in an empty room
naked in the rain
back to chest
hips in synch
arms encompassing
just slow dancin'
to music only we can hear

 

[Remec]

flickering neon adds
to the occasional glow
slipping in from the corner
traffic signal...not that
red or yellow lights mean
anything at the moment,

Already slowly moving,
hips under palms, and no
sign of stopping unless
you count the pauses
to nibble an earlobe, or
the drawing of a hand
the length of a torso to
savor how it feels beneath
exploring fingers

 

[butters]

and this is the dance
the dance of words
music rises and falls
driven by pulse and intakes of breath
sliding on mirrors
oily as cats on wet tarmac

 

[HarryHill]

11:44
hand over blurred eyes n yawns,
can't see the page, glasses on,
it's a quarter to eight over there,
and i'm brushing hair for bed,
sure to miss your dawn, but still
here's wishing you sweet dreams
and thanks for all you've said.
11:54

 

[butters]

there's a man
who pours drinks
finds the words
finds the soft spots
hides
too often in shadow
staring at the sun
or down at the ground
looking for stones


*some words*

from my mouth to your mouth -
great gifts given thoughtlessly.
my breath's caressed your pink and bubbling sacs;
i am intimate with you beyond imagining,
my gift transparent and without motive.

i take
as thoughtlessly as i give -
as you take
and give
as he and she and they and those
take
and give

in the reckless scant of life,
in the ripening of fat mangoes;
in soft membranous flap of gill,
through sparkling rill and hollow's faithful cling
where grow such foreign fleshy things
in thrash and meld of succulent structure;

 

[HarryHill]

*some words*

from my mouth to your mouth -
great gifts given thoughtlessly.
my breath's caressed your pink and bubbling sacs;
i am intimate with you beyond imagining,
my gift transparent and without motive.

i take
as thoughtlessly as i give -
as you take
and give
as he and she and they and those
take
and give

in the reckless scant of life,
in the ripening of fat mangoes;
in soft membranous flap of gill,
through sparkling rill and hollow's faithful cling
where grow such foreign fleshy things
in thrash and meld of succulent structure;

you should save this one,

 

[butters]

you should save this one,

pssst: http://forum.literotica.com/showpost.php?p=33640427&postcount=192

it's about halfway through or more of this already published one. i know this thread's intended for live writes so i compromised and added those words as they fit what i wanted to say at the time. the whole piece needs revising, probably, and was written after indulging myself with walt whitman for a while.

and thankyou, dear harry

 

[HarryHill]

pssst: http://forum.literotica.com/showpost.php?p=33640427&postcount=192

it's about halfway ...:

and thankyou, dear harry

..
lovely, and you're always welcome, and I, always grateful.
11:35
After reading things like this I know,
i'll never be a poet.
my stones thrown at a target far past my reach, they miss
kissing the ground a handbreadth away,
bemoaned ammunition growing scarce,
ambition faltering, a whip that brings tears
for that mark beyond searching finger tips
so close to touching it, and you
sweet muse bequeathing blues and golden yellow smiles
entreating me to rise, stand tall,
select another stone.
12:01

 

[butters]

..
lovely, and you're always welcome, and I, always grateful.
11:35
After reading things like this I know,
i'll never be a poet.
my stones thrown at a target far past my reach, they miss
kissing the ground a handbreadth away,
bemoaned ammunition growing scarce,
ambition faltering, a whip that brings tears
for that mark beyond searching finger tips
so close to touching it, and you
sweet muse bequeathing blues and golden yellow smiles
entreating me to rise, stand tall,
select another stone.
12:01

what's in a name
when you write like this?
labeling yourself is a fool's game
and the world is full of stones
even if you have to dig
beneath wild snows
hands in freezing mud
there're always stones

sometimes you just have to toss
and wait for the ripples

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

what's in a name
when you write like this?
labeling yourself is a fool's game
and the world is full of stones
even if you have to dig
beneath wild snows
hands in freezing mud
there're always stones

sometimes you just have to toss
and wait for the ripples

Or, side ways,
skip them over still waters
to create small turbulences,
a pattern, history of ripples
leading on to open water.

 

[butters]

Or, side ways,
skip them over still waters
to create small turbulences,
a pattern, history of ripples
leading on to open water.

oblique angles skim
dance over unsuspecting surface
tease points of delight that
spread cool wavelets
stir the stillness
interrupt the silences of blue skin
that no more reaches for the stone than
rejects it
as it chooses to immerse
to sink
to wait

 

[HarryHill]

you two may be on to something *brows furrow, eyes cross*

 

[HarryHill]

an absurd beginning,
5:24
Here, in the small hours
cleaning house/system clutter
total progress 4%, waiting
update definitions, pour coffee,
dream of a thing like a worn old pair of jeans,
so soft, comfortable,
ragged, faded, cherished
..
5:46

 

[butters]

coffee and blinking lights
how the brain does work
hanging half in shadow
looking for dawn
eyes focused on some low star