A poem I wrote today....
 

The poetry thread inspired me...

You left for a month last summer.
Your favorite clock sat ticking
on the countertop.
On quiet nights as we lay together,
I had listened to its heartbeat
and learned to love it.
When you were gone,
it told of the time you would return.
You did not.

I moved into another apartment.
Each night, as I lay alone in bed,
your favorite clock sat ticking
on the countertop, telling another time.
The heartbeat remained,
but the landscape of my heart had changed.

I moved it to the closet,
next to your things that I had filed neatly away,
where I could shut the door and keep it closed.
Still, I heard what it told me.
I moved it to another room.
We went through your things on the phone.
You told me what to throw away and what to send.
I never heard the clock again.


...post your own poems!

Somehow

She's got a garden of soul in her heart
and the flowers are in her smile.
And she floats on clouds made of dreams and hopes like a silver shining wish.
I know she knows this
I hope she does
All her words slide across the sky and
into my mind
caressing warmly, gently sighing
Holding rapture in kingless courts
These forgotten wiles and a lost sunrise
Breaking softly crashing past the rocks
Fortitude withering madly quiet
Soothed mute and crossing fingers

She's a garden of soul and she grows
her flowers madly and storms of trees and leaves
in a teacup gently brewing of gold and silver
thoughts like silk strands of rain falling on my cheeks
I hope she knows this
I hope she hopes
Pulling a coat tightly around hunched shoulders
and doubling up in time slow and brackish
crystal sunlight sunken through the branches
casting shadows on the thorns and the thickets
and the brush of feelings and light drops away
far away.

Love Is
The love is stagnant
Static
Stuck in a swamp
Muddy
The river flows
Where it goes
It don't know

Love letter for the lonely
To the ones whose faces are burned inside
My memory
Whose thoughts reign in the recesses of
My life
I can't get connected

I suffer to shudder and feel
The cold gripping me in warmth
Your eyes shine when it's cold outside
Lush and verdant fields of absentia
Offer me lifeless comforts
In ordained trysts,
Trials for the dammned

Cold soul craves your confession
Drippping guts; bloody, noiseless truths
In arabesque continuity
In hopeful burnings

In a corrupt Palace of Things Intertwined
We wait for the Atomic shine
to burn us into Ashes
and scatter us into Holy Rivers

Singing voices will proclaim
and tired truths will remain
Vengeance and desire, hand in hand
Desperate for the time of shattered lands

I'm bleeding digits and breaking hands
Lying for the wicked blame
That tarp that we know so well
We have no friends with that aroma

I smell in the twinkling starlight
Fresh beans ground in the dust
Layered like lapidiary concoctions
We have no friends with that ornamentation

I fall down endlessly wavering
To meet you in the hole
Where we dance in the black light of noon
We have no friends

And here is one that i wrote 2 minutes ago:

The Yawn


yawn....yawn
yawnyawnyawnyawnyawnyawn
yawn.......
yawnyawnyawnyawnyawnyawn
yawn.........yaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwnnnnnn....yawn!
yawn?
eh?yawn?
yawnyawnyawn yawn yawn yawn
YAWN!!!!!GRRRRRR!!!!!YAWN! YAWN! YAWN!

You must spread the Samaritans around before/
giving/
reputation to/
pork. Marras.

Again?

i killed the goddamn clock that you left in the kitchen
it made me think of you, and all the time that we wasted

when i sat to drink whiskey it gave me a nasty headache
tic-toc, one every second... the alarm went off at seven!

the annoying hours you kept! your snoring! and your dog face!
i raised my empty bottle, and fucked the clock to hades.

---

well it needs work. i just slapped it together.

It's a shame, but I had a 3-ring binder full that an ex kept (not av, different ex) & then I have some I've written a few years ago & I just went to the garage out back that I use for storage & I was climbing over boxes & wading through all this crap & all & i couldn't find those...i remember some lines, but not complete poems...

fucked the clock to hades...i like it

lines:
i found the earbone of a whale today.
do you wanna see it?

climb out of the cave of the law
& the belly of language

close to the whole (not a flattering one though)

off to see
the girlfriend
that my girlfriend
doesn't know about
cutting corners

walking the hypotenuse

i meant to say, i dedicated my poem to daycare nation :D

I call this Laila: Redone(pun intended)

Laila
Lesbian
Muslim
Porn

I might need to update my signature.

Okay... a poem I wrote

*Italicized*

Italicizing words bends
the only girls I've really fucked
into more comfortable positions

On the stirrups of verse
w/ my uninspired hand of gynecology
stirring gently.

I am hitting the bottom of the soup
where it starts to get painful

I am straining all the violence from my poetry

So there's just noodles.

You must spread some reputation around before giving it to AssBlaster again.

okay, fuck rhyme. it's annoying. let's try something else.

----------

mmm... maybe later.

well, i don't feel bad for calling him
a "straight-up a-hole"

yesterday
now;

glad he doesn't diss
"Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da"'
a critical minutiae--

atypically typical,
if you will, &

I know you won't.

This is dedicated to Assblaster. It's called Ass Pasta.

Ass pasta
It's a gooey and stringy thingy
made out of complex carbohydrates.
Stuck together by scientists
And porn stars
It's yellowy and weird
It come from my rectal fjords,
crevices and cracks.
after a particularly woeful night on the tiles.
Ass pasta.

i put this one in the other thread, but whatever.

Prune juice acid and toxic chalk
my esophogus is burning, I cannot talk
I'm being rammed in the abdomen by Satan's goat
and there's some kind of porcupine crawling down my throat

i'm gonna make that the chorus to a song.

"rectal fjords"

AssBlaster only wishes he could write like that himself!

A short poem about Fjords, by me.

For your four Fjords, Fiona - funky floaty spunk.

Cock
Cock-tail
Cock-sucker
What-ever

sounds like a case of diverticulitis :D

Oh toilet sleaze
i hate to tell you but i freeze
your hands all over me
dont show me your face again
or i'll cry and show you my pain
oh toilet sleaze
i love the way your hands do squeeze
squeeze my titty
miaows the kitty
An std must have you infected
and soon the toilet will be disenfected
you say no and i say yes
but all i really want with you is a game of chess

^^ ha ha. cheeto is gonna love this one.

who's cheeto?

yes

MUSCLE MARIES
Muscle Maries on a sunny day
are much happier like they say
They hold hands on busy streets
showing pierced nipples on their pumped up girly tits
White vests should be worn only in the summer
but then muscle maries would stop thinking you'd look like a proper stunner
If steroids are not your thing
then dont cry when muscle maries say you aint the king
I'll conclude this stupid poem
stating that i never met a muscle mary who likes Leonard Cohen

I like it. I didn't find it offensive at all, so I guess you failed.

fool. it wasn't meant to offend. ah, the evil-seeking christians! :rolleyes:

Yes, we soooo secretly want to be persecuted. I liked it...."fucked to hades," very nice.

it was a different take on the same motif. inspired by your poem. portraying perhaps a less sentimental affectivity (i.e., mine?). and with a little mockery-- but all in good fun.

Very Charles Bukowski. My style shows more restraint.

not really. i threw in the rhymes for silliness. bukowski is more raw-- i show the raw, but i emphasize ridiculousness.

Your dry, academic style is tiresome to me, !@#$%!
Get the stick out of your ass, for god's sake.

I can imagine Bukowski writing about fucking a clock.

You emphasize the ridiculous but it's still raw..."dog face" for example--a very "in-your-dog-face" phrase.

it's not a stick but a hard turd. gotta wait till the first morning cigarette.

Had to work "blue," eh?
Such a cheap tactic.

eh, no hard feelings, i'll mail it to you in a giftbox. :D

You're a giver.

i taught piero manzoni everything he knows

The Undie Sniffer
When I Think About Your Face
I Feel Sorry For The Human Race
You Go Round Smelling Undies
That Certainly Dont Belong To Proper Dandies
Spend Your Life Watching Porn Movies
I'll Spend Mine Getting Free Goodies
Turn To The Left,look To The Right
There's A Sign That Says Your Arsehole Must Be Really Tight

workin' blue too^

bluetooth

alyasa is takin' us to school, those are nice

the giving tree

oh man, !@#$%!, did you go back to smoking?

I never quit, but I thought you may have.