Skip navigation

Monthly Archives: May 2014

WP_20140516_03120140517142453[1]

 

 

 

 

 

Everything deserves a photo

It was about time for a new poem :). It’s just a little different but, not really.

 

Anyway, poem time:

 

 

 

Sixteen feet away,

cherry lips spread for

me. Dimples deepen

until they touch and she

 

looks away. Puckered,

she stares down at her

feet. Raven strands

blow behind an ear and

 

she looks back to me.

So I cross, sixteen feet,

through eight inches of

sludge to flirtatious legs.

 

Slowly, I reach the body

they’re attached to.

Gazing over the new born

sun, my mind orbits,

 

becoming dizzier with

every drop of long lashes

against elated cheeks.

I cant help but stare into

 

the stars. They pull me

closer. Creating massive

heat waves between us

until our bodies fuse to

 

one another; tying me to

her. We rock within her

smile ignoring the

shrinking Universe around

 

us. Eliminating space so

that I feel the planets

against me. Soft hands

bring my face closer. My

 

eyes drift to the cherry

simper I couldn’t help but

watch before our collision.

Her lips pull me in; tongue

 

rubbing away my flaws

as she erases me.

Can you see the face?? I took this back in March and never actually looked at it until today. The tan colored part of the plant looks like a tiny man with a face of “The Screamer”..you know if his mouth were closed..

Just a quick dinner poem that went dark side for my entertainment 😉

I stare at the alphabet
bowl that holds soy balls,
watching the fishes swim.
Observing the smoke
that burns, it burns me
as I blow. Gliding into my
nose, it tickles my brain,
making me question my
creation. Considering,
wandering, how in twenty
one years could this be my
accomplishment. I glance
left, to the rings within the
glass. Chianti teasing me
with red, my favorite of
the crying colors. It reflects
to me, a darkened image of
apathy, giggling as I try to
grasp it, pushing for
humiliation. I let my lips
move it. Taking control of the
taunting, I slowly end its life.

Run away into the

smoke pools of yesterday.

Fly high within their

flames. Bury yourself

within their fumes.

Be covered with the fog.

Allow yourself to be

blanketed with its chilling

warmth. Maintain protection

in reach of the dome. Listen

to the sound of the

fiddle. Let the strings be your memory.

Force the drum outside of your

core. Let the rhythm be your feat.

Be moved by the sound. Allow

The notes to be your footstool. Rest

your head against their bars.

And dream of a meditating symphony

%d bloggers like this: