the saturday after your birthday is where i foundbefore you there was an incessant need to be touchedthe saturday after your birthday is where i found3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
but for no longer than the time it took to touch, sweat, and moan
and never by the same hands twice;
for vacancies to be filled
and to never have an empty bed when sleep finally came.
when i found you it was dark and i was drunk.
it wasn't a story built for the centuries,
but we will be the lovers whose names are remembered for the years to come,
tied and woven in song and into the bodies of trees, we will be so in love
that the angels above will cry in jealousy because in my haze,
heavy and raw and with everything burning inside me, i'm afraid i fell in love that night.
being against you was not enough
i needed you on me-in me-everywhere i turned you needed to be there
no space between my body and yours no air
just skin and skin and skin and
movements rough enough to catch soft sweaters like dry elbows
i needed you to be so entwined with me that we breathed in sync.
our hearts opened and closed in a symphony, chords not harmonies, t
cumbersomei cannot say what i need to say,cumbersome3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there are many, many things we cannot talk about:
the military, its ploys,
its gunmetal toys;
the way a gap in the teeth
draws a crinkle like cellophane
to a face once filled
with green eyes and irish love;
the r's thrown deep into
the dirty water in which
boys with lesser sense
might find themselves;
the greenery and celtic landscape;
you in full-
i cannot talk about you
because i miss you so much my heartache has a heartache
like acid reflux burning my body
and it is just so unbearably sad
that none of this can be fixed
because in less than a week you will leave me for years
and i will be left to grow roots
in some unwanted, rubbish-filled lot in the city
that i am now afraid to enter.
This Isn't One to Tell the GrandkidsDrape me in dripsThis Isn't One to Tell the Grandkids3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Of honeysuckle sap,
Could devour me so-
Oh, what whimsy,
With flagrance quite fragrant but flimsy
"I want to make love today,
Under a cloudless sky,
But it is far from dry,
So I guess I'll just settle
For a wriggle
In the mud "
True passion can't be rehearsed
Still, it could be worse
Dry me off with a
Lick the lovely nectar
From the nape of my neck,
Flaunt your filthy impulse,
Deep into your breast before
I fall and I shake in the shale,
"True passion can't be rehearsed!
But this isn't one to tell
The grandkids "
True passion can't be rehearsed
Still, this isn't one to tell the grandkids
things i don't know about you that bother me thati wonder what it's likethings i don't know about you that bother me that3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to fall asleep beside you
in a post coital haze,
and to wake in the morning
to run to class.
do you wake me,
do you kiss my forehead,
do we make love again-
i don't know,
and do you wet your toothbrush
before applying toothpaste,
tell me you don't leave the sink running,
it must get awfully tired.
and what do you dream of
when i lie next to you,
blissfully more than just a body;
what will you dream of
a year from now?
please tell me i can fit into
your big picture
as easily as i can fit into
That man, bad man, my man.Tell me I'm beautiful, he always told meThat man, bad man, my man.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my creator, my big, bad wolf
when he licked me up and down
saying things like "tasty."
he was gonna eat me, but I was wasted
wasting away my youth
don't mean to be ugly, just telling the truth
Think I'm going crazy, if I weren't so lazy
I would slit my own wrists
into pretty, shiny ribbons
don't need to, he will do it for me
he's got teeth like razors
grinning in the dark
shimmering, glimmering, glistening
He's got his cigarettes, offering me cancer
promises me pain free loving
and all life's answers
just gotta be his dancer
let myself fall away
"baby," I'd say, "anything for you."
I wanna be your slave
He was a monster, mad man
momma said he was a bad man
but I don't wanna listen
just wanna kiss him
let him touch my body
don't make me deny him
don't like him when he's angry
I'm falling into oblivion, here comes the blindness
stumbling, tumbling, mumbling
don't wanna touch him, don't wanna know him
but his taste is in my mouth
acid couldn't wash
serpentPretending to be a lover,serpent5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you come to me as a man
to the pomegranate tree,
blind sighted by your hunger
to taste of its
Now, a serpent transformed
with darting tongue
sniffing out the promise
of fallen fruit
split by crows taking flight
as you approach
low to the ground, unblinking
stare like tiger's eye
when I succumb the weight
of cool scales wrapping round
the membrane, smothering
rubies of luscious red with the
undulations of your legless crawl,
to the heady quench and thirst
between the spongy chambers
of bloodied pith.
Snare& she prefered her hind leg caught in thoseSnare3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
her trapp-ed-ness : her happiness
his puncture marks & their bittersweet ooze
to hold her; to let her
in her last moments
belong to him
Lurking CobraI have to tell you the truth:Lurking Cobra3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there's a cobra lurking just beneath the skin
and coiling through your veins.
"I love you" and "I'm sorry" and "Please, come home with me"
drip like poison from your fangs.
I know the weight of a lie, darling;
I search for the scent of others of my sex in every shadowed corner;
I regularly check your sock drawer for love letters and ring boxes,
for any sign that this isn't just another hunt for you,
but I know it's the hunger talking
when you whisper those things late at night.
The stitching on my heart is slowly unraveling,
All my clumped-up stuffing flows out of me dying to escape;
I lose myself in the beat of your heart
under my skin
and the sigh of my name
from your pouting lips...
but I don't remember leaving
That hickey on your chest.
Maybe that's the crazy me talking.
I've always heard them talk about the last threads of sanity;
You are pushing pins and buttons farther than they should be pushed.
How I can rearrange my face
Dueti drive down the street under the stormcloudsDuet3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with my sunglasses on, just to look cool, or sexy,
or something. i reach a
dip in the land where an embryonic stream
has been conceived in the rain. water splashes
through the open window and i laugh.
impatient fingers rest against my shoulder,
and the passersby toss labels after us.
they stare as i hold my hand out.
watch as her fingers drum into my palm,
as i pull away
silently. no apologies
linger in her throat. i've
her presence is grace enough,
and it's not her nature
to say 'sorry.' nature
doesn't change for eons and
she is here and gone,
so swiftly i'd wonder if she had
been at all, except for the
smell of storms clinging to the
undersides of my fingernails.
her nature is that of the rain,
falling where the wind blows,
and today she tumbles into me.
i'm fun, she's nothing permanent.
the sigh in my breath is
an echo of her lascivious
and the people stare
You are not an islandI have been alone. This man is an island.You are not an island3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The cliffs of my shoulder blades
hang heavy with grief, ore, suffering.
I am draped with the permanence of gravity,
So do not believe that you cannot move.
Come to me, water babes fully grown,
Allow yourself to be swept in salt and ash.
Tumble with your brothers into my arms
and be at peace, at last, on the shore.
I too was once drowned, but I arose
and as the caps melt, all things will erode
For no man is an island alone.
Innocent Purgefingers not full grownInnocent Purge3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
still manage to pull free
and a mother's fear
says the mom who has too many
worries and wrinkles for
her daughter of nine
tears spring forth
from wells not seen
since her own pitiful choices
"you're already beautiful,
and there are so many better ways
please, please, please
don't make my same mistakes"
tiny fingers just long enough
to grasp at insecurities
and struggle with feelings
I want to be pretty
drain her empty
in the filthiest of cleansings
the mind of a child can't comprehend irony,
and that is her only solution
"but mommy" she chirps
stained with promises of perfection
from a girl too young
to know the consequences
(or the reasons)
she smiles a broken smile
because she's almost there
and she's unaware
she lost part of herself she'll never get back
"please, don't do what I did.
please, don't be like me."
"but mommy," she says
"I already am"
and the cycle repeat
lifetimeshe dreams of the thunder of a thousand bisonlifetimes3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the gentle silence of the soaring hawk
he dreams of the nut-brown hands
that wait for him
in the skin shelter she made
for their wedding day
he dreams of cold breezes from the mountains
and warm skin against him
and the gleam in her eyes when they meet his again
he dreams of sunsets over endless plains
of her soft breath in his mouth
and a lifetime of precious touches
he wakes in the embrace of flannel sheets
and tender limbs
his fingers entwined with hers—
brown eyes gazing into his with that familiar gleam
all poets are used to deceitare you still savoringall poets are used to deceit3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the taste of deceit
off the edge
of your limerick tongue?
you know what i mean
you "poet of unusual sorts,"
chaotic green eyes
and skin of pale misfortune
leaving scents of sweet seas when oceans
begin to spite you.
yes, your silent panthers,
loyal only to the sound of sonnets
of broken piano chords
and keys and torn six-strings.
those slithe things will
prove to you
that betrayal is just eight letters
of pleasure undercover.
it's these little beauties that
will make you see;
every liar was an artist
and every poet was a whore,
just till the point
they owned you no more.
every limerick was a trap
and every stroke a cry;
and my every little breath,
sweet deceit strolling by.