I Hate You, GirlSo, you're in love, huh?I Hate You, Girl4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Your boy must be wonderful.
Just like the last one.
Abject GenteelAbject Genteel11 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
it starts off all twisted,
artistic and meek.
the sheets in a tangle, we tangoed,
in the sleek night.
our wrists chained to floarboards,
past my collarbone's palindrome,
(that sensitive hollow)
making impressions in memory foam.
onetwo, and threefour.
yes, go on-
rest your head here, and read what you wrote.
remember last night,
when that spot in my chest soared up past my throat,
and the light in your eyes
swallowed my conscience alive,
and we burned,
with the stars
and cared not to dream, but be rash: come undone.
on the bedpost.
we sang amid silence,
clutching at pillows and pretense,
feeding black scarves on my eyelids.
needing a breath-
as i sank,
through my webbed primidorial,
to the safety of bloodshed.
101412PARALLAX101412PARALLAX11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
per aspera, ad astra.
to the angel of the halls of time:
in the space of those untold-thousand terminal
heartbeats silent; the treetop sunbeams gliding
some forest thaw in spring where he was static
bled like ruin and heather in the cloudshperes
she danced not far, and whether or not she felt
the dynamic of weathered-storm skyshallow, yet
untired he moved to make not a sound and thus
was fashioned the beginning of an end
memories - i never hadmemories - i never had11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
memories (i never had)
i can feel the taste of tears
rising in my throat
keep it down
we don't want to wake the neighbors
with our sympathies
our word addictions
for the faceless names
that have snuck from between the dusty pages
grabbed our hands
and led us on a merry dance
through the dark apple tree forests
shadows in the moonlight
no reflections in their empty eyes
i reach out my hand
grasping for yours in the dark
the figure in the chair by the pool
looking out over the sea
but it is only fiction
that holds us apart
and your face is just a suggestion
over the sound of crashing waves
close my eyes
and smell the salt
feel the whisper of your skin
as you pass by
asea, tonightasea, tonight10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I'm at your door; can hear the brass and bass,
the snare drum, through the glass. It's jazz, tonight.
You let me in and suddenly I'm in
a room of profound poets, who sing their verse
through shining horns, sweet saxophone riffs.
The solos drift so richly, dance among smoke rings—
tonight, when everyone's somebody's cool cat.
There's a girl whose trumpet weeps when she woos its keys,
those wailing notes like Miles would have played.
And the long-haired bassist pains his face as he plucks
away at the tired shape the body makes,
he sways. And when the guitar's clean strings do sing,
it's melody carries a twang so sweet—it's jazz,
tonight. Tonight!— We can be alive, tonight.
And I'm in the corner, no horn in hand, not even
a cigarette for now. I'm just a shadow this evening,
no harmony for me. Just silent taps
of thumbs on thighs; of a breath before sirens sing.
Tonight, blue tunes knew the way through a smoky
sea—found me… Last I heard they were still awaiting
the conversationalistthe conversationalist10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
slit-eye winter sun-
rise buried to the hilt
as if you
'd answered my every fucking
question speaking french-
it's October again, my darling
for pity, oh. for pity's sake, this
talking in morse or
semaphore is getting
by the day.
these icy fingers
are not persuaded by my plea of self
defence, the jury's
out, the cock has crowed,
the books are
falling from the shelves
like dodgy tape recordings of
conversations overheard in dreams,
what I want to know is why,
I had my mouth ajar as if to speak,
as though the distance between my
tongue and lip
was suddenly too far.
magnificentmagnificent11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Today, dead people are two feet farther from the sun.
All this white and the sterile icebox cold
has contracted my lungs and pupils
and replaced the cluttered punctuation in my head
with the sanctuary of winter.
The snow has me using words like magnificent again,
things I never thought would cover
the landscape again.
Today, I woke up with the feeling back in my arms
and my hands were damn near frozen.
I was in need of your hearth and homemade
bread served on a table made of
wood, whose grain is swelling with the heat.
It must be that in the night, some small creatures
found the hatch to my heart,
the levers and controls of my love.
But just the same, I'm starting to thaw
and I'd like you to be there
to stare through panes of glass with me
holistically at the pagan scenery.
radiate.radiate.11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i love you my blood wench... my thump thump heart beat kiss me with a soldering iron... melted maga eyes ....burn me burn me... burn a hole through me... see right through me... fly a kite through me and laugh at the double dips and loppy loops that your thousand blown kisses produce.
use the back door my three footed mariachi maestro. and enter the dreams i have. of silken locks of petrified tears. bruised fruit and ripe wishes. i adore you. call me as your expert witness and i will surely testify on your behalf. i will paint rainbows with your eyelashes. watch you blink in ultra violet.
you mean the milkyway to me. help me recyle plastic bottles and weave wigwams with our wet dreams... i love you like aliens abduct and ears are shaped like question marks. sing me a song of trivial riddles and hum a sweet tune of soft answers. tell me of your grandmothers afgans the body
The KnowingThe KnowingThe Knowing14 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
by jsenn (Joy Senn)
not quite the same
not quite the same as before
before the papered golden ring
before the child from swaddling grew
before the hand of unheard aches
touched us here and here and here
we never knew
I swear to you, we never knew
(we live forever. don't we? nope.)
(does it get better? yup.)
falling leaves . spring renews . summer's sweat
I do digress
now is more
more than before
now we know the knowing
and the power in the word
knowing some mountains won't be climbed
knowing some oceans won't be crossed
knowing the awful wait does end
that patience is not the heavy load
knowing even this
...the rose's scent before the sniff
and this...oh, this, of greater import now
knowing the slightest grin
the unseen move
the imperceptible glint of eye
the elegant, the elegant
there you have it, boiled down
hopes and dreams, love and life
contained by the beginning
smooth assurance, abiding time
1000 Paper CranesI.1000 Paper Cranes5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
We whispered prayers into the corridors
while I spoke into your ribcage,
telling lies to our skeletons
to help you understand.
you said they loved
watching me wax poetic
while I dripped candlelight into your hands.
we watched the dust motes
cover our skin
while I taught you how to fly.
(you were always too afraid to fall
and too afraid to land).
It wasn't lovesongs we sang;
it was half-forgotten hymns.
we never wanted to believe
but you said ghosts exist
and without sins.
I told the doctor
his medication clipped your wings.
I fed you sweet words
tucked in between
While I cried in secret every mo(u)rning
pressing tears beneath
the fragile scales
The doctors said
we needed to prepare.
I told them I was kissing
hoping for a wish.
we counted every soft bruised bone
with lover's temperaments
as your temperature rose and fell.
The doctors crushed them in their hands
when they spoke of vital signs
arabesquethe cooling palm of youth'sarabesque11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
extends in equal and opposite motion
to the hot, bright tongue of LOVE,
tying my core to yours
like two red apples on a branch.
to my former self -i.to my former self -6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in a dim and exhausted new york subway train - i
surrender my fingerprints over to dirty railings and
my body stretches like a mayan temple over his landscape.
my sun drags itself across his skies to his brutal moon
prowling the outskirts of our madness. he says
bend yourself to these sights, love.
recognize, but never accept.
i want your filthy and bruised hope
on my table. he was
saturating space, says - how much
do you love your world. eyes screaming
alive over and over again. you can do better
he says, but you want to do worse.
a giraffe crawls out of my dead skin and is silent,
but stares with fat-sky eyes. its tongue snakes
and wraps around my wrists, shakes me
in a language that says my pores
are clogged and taste like
Africa and Ireland:
magic and desperation.
HIT ME RUNNINGDon't sell me funeral plotsHIT ME RUNNING11 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
on late night television
if the end is already in sight
am I supposed to pull the sheets up to my neck,
count to zero,
smile, and cease?
keep your pills, in all their pretty colors:
celebrex, propecia, allegra, lipitor, zanex, viagra
keep them for scrabble
keep your rogaine, your facelifts
keep your death insurance
keep your graveyard reservations
hit me running.
let me go down swinging
make it a sport:
give me a ten-minute head start
and an obstacle course.
place a beautiful girl on the far side of a mine field
and whisper, "she wants to kiss you"
target me on my feet
dodging doomsday's in slow-mo bullet time
let me duel the grim reaper in a poetry slam
but let me lay where i fall
let the buzzards and coyotes
pick apart my bones
don't stuff me and sew me up
waste my estate on alcohol for my wake
instead of wood for a coffin,
build me a funeral pyre
and set me ablaze like a pagan-warrior-king
Daddy's bellyDaddy's large belly protruded past the rest of us,Daddy's belly10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sometimes it gurgled
if it sensed the presence of an
In N' Out Burger close by.
It would shake a little
when he laughed.
It would rise and fall
when he slept.
It would demand much room,
when he drove mother's car.
It came to be that I was convinced
his heart was in that belly,
that it was big simply because
he needed more space.
His Death Certificate reads
H e a r t A t t a c k -
and a small part of me still wonders
why didn't his belly collapse?
Why couldn't his stomach
have attacked him instead?
Not his loving heart -
not his love that everyone envied, admired,
that beat so loudly
as though it were a Chinese gong.
I look in the mirror now
and wonder if my heart too,
is lower than it should be.
a minimalist walked into a barHe died.a minimalist walked into a bar5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The Littlest PresidentThe Littlest President11 years ago in Socio-political More Like This
The Littlest President
At the age of eleven I was elected the 50th president of the United States of America. My analysts put my win down to youth (I was the youngest ever to run) and to the unfortunate late-October acne breakout of my incumbent rival, an eighth grader from Massachusetts. I have a stronger faith in the New Rules than do my analysts, who are always looking at polls and running them through sacred formula. I ascribe my presidency to the good sense of America, my hard work at Security School, and the stunning leadership of my handlers.
Once my presidency was officially announced, my face was given another coat of foundation and I was ushered up to a podium in front of a large crowd of my supporters. There was a crashing sea of applause. Most of my supporters were dumpy women in their thirties – just barely old enough to remember a time before we had the New Rules – these were my core demographic, although my handlers dutifully i
an isosceles love triangleIf two angles of one triangle are similar to two angles of another triangle, then the triangles are similar.an isosceles love triangle10 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Recalling the memory of His geometry makes me sick with longing. That's the real reason I don't call Him every night, don't spend hours stuttering out words onto paper in some tremulous imitation of a love letter. The space I have behind conversation and human interaction is where He really lives, ready for me any time I need to remember. I don't even have to close my eyes before His own stare back at mine, revealing the storm clouds and stars that hover around His midnight-black pupils. The angles of His eyebrows, the slope of His nose, the arches of His eyelashes, the degrees of His gait, the radius of His smile when He sees me, the surface area of His strong embrace; sometimes the formulas back me into a corner where I try to understand, try to meticulously calculate every possible equation. I never solve for the answer before I snap out of my stupor, realizing His abs
the northit is the honesty of touchingthe north10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
oh, that this northern sea might make my heart grow fonder
in the dark sand plains of the forth of firth
that this north might deny
the existence of south
somehow. that I might not be sure
of the difference between
a mirror and
by Leuchars, I have understood Paterson's
distance to love; here, there would surely be
enough. I could stand by the coast- the cold, infinite sea-
the honesty of touching, or the hope
that love might be more like walking
from a crowded room
into a silent one.
New Orleans MinuteNew Orleans Minute10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Time sashays like a creole strumpet,
barefoot and brown down Rue Madeleine
past this window, this table,
where gumbo steams and shrimp tails
clutter my plate.
A molasses haze fogs the lamplight.
A young man too full of libation
succumbs to this damp heat,
bent nearly double,
splatters his feet.
A coasting cabbie slows to say,
Laissez le bon temps rouler
and laughs until his brakelights fade.
OSVCh2 The Hunt Shall Begin...The young grubbs played in the shallow banks of The Mongo River, splashing and laughing. Harmony had been restored by Stranger and the grubb warriors after they had fought Sekto and destroyed the Sekto springs dam, freeing The Mongo River. Some clakker settlements had suffered, becoming flooded, but the grubbs came out of poverty, having more water and fish to feed themselves. The wolvark threat had been eliminated, so no one really picked on them anymore. Stranger had given up bounty hunting, since he was quite happy just living with the grubbs, and Alex, his human friend, and the clakkerz didn't want to see him anymore, thinking that steef were insane animals, not an intelligent species.OSVCh2 The Hunt Shall Begin...8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Stranger was sitting with Alex and Frayda, curious about the thing that he had seen.
"Are you sure?" Said Frayda. "Maybe you were just tired and seeing things?" Stranger shook his head.
"Yes. I know I saw it."
Frayda got up, and walked away. For a moment Stra