Look so perfect
I remove your covering
Naked for all to see
Hold you in my hand
Even more enticing
Lick my lips with anticipation
Open my mouth
Take you in
So smooth on my tongue
A mouth full of sweet, sticky goodness
I swallow you down
Bit by bit
Inch by inch
Until you are completely consumed
And then throw away the peel
Shameless, I am, just shameless!
And yes, fins/cass/dyao/phish do need to expose their brilliant and lovely minds for discussion on this topic, I SO agree!
Forget your perfect offering, there is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in. - Leonard Cohen
hmmm.... the color, yes... love I think is most definitely within the orange spectrum of things... apples, though... maybe it's just the sound of the word?
forever rolling re-absorbed
in spongy iris flower beds
salt logged, non-osmotic, bent
the phase change constant
creaking washed
showered
clean
and stand alone
in what mote
may I now swim
(perhaps i should but dig my own?)
nowhere in my trite repose
a literal and gaping whole
a dried up late spring waterhole
i smite my Siamese dream
as hard and as fast as it smites me
because today
it’s all it is
external ganglia splayed and sprayed about the universe in every fucking direction except home (WHERE I LIVE!). quite sad, really, when i think about how many exposures it takes to catch a man picking his nose, checking it out, then deciding it'd be better between his teeth than wiped on his pantleg. mmmmm, salty. like tiny escargot that don't cost a mother-fucking dime.
but, i digress...
forgive?
external ganglia frayed, praying for a quelude, anything, some thing to start the reel reeling in the right direction (where I live)....
ever notice how much a fish brain remembers? quite sad, really, when i think about how many exposures to fake presentations they endure... the scents designed to elicit a strike so some jerkwad with clean pants can feel like a man.
but, i digress...
again
interesting?
externally ganglial umbili-cords ignored, cautered,
fall off and rot in the noon-day sun
a kiss goodbye to my deprived
a kiss goodbye to my deprived
makes for a good day
counting the ways
this quiet love shines
while my dinner-bell judgment
sulks in a corner somewhere
with nothing to do
nothing to react to
i can sit
in peace
and smile
"so... this is what it's like to be an adult?"
i wont throw myself from a cliff, declaring
I LOVE!!! YA-HOOOOOOOOOOOU!!!
when i can snuggle up
in your ethereal lap
my ethereal nose
scents your down-nestled calm
be at peace
this day my love
continued grace
rise above
Suppose Heaven is Void.
A black, swirling anti-matter.
Synapses loose, souls not even bouncing.
Suppose Heaven is space,
and that space is too great,
too wide, no, too roomy to encounter God.
Would we, in all our thought-processed souls, embrace that existence entirely whole?
Would sometimes we scream for the flesh-gravity that held us so tightly to our little lives?
Where in between humming a John Denver song, elbow deep in dish soap clouds,
we watched salt-free tears hit the streets of our dreams.
We think not.
Now suppose that Heaven’s the Promise.
The Promise beat down on the Rock of the Ages,
thumped down upon the Good Book's thin pages
and filling the minds of mild wild-eyed Christians?
Suppose, if you must, that Heaven’s been told, in total.
That Man’s greed-colored glasses left out no bold detail.
The streets of gold, the gossamer wings,
the manna to each little black sinner’s dreams.
In all of these quaint suppositions, now I
should hope that my entry to Heaven’s more like
a quick digital pulse of the passion to head
my arms splayed,
with little bright stars in each hand
my eyes opened now,
and absorbing the glory
of everything God’s ever given to Man.
And then, hush now, in the following calm,
a blush and a breeze on my left ear soft whispers
Originally posted by coleen is there anything you can't write about? i think your soul is too roomy to see all there is to you. you are an inspiration.
btw, i'm not saying that just for the hugs and kisses - though they are always appreciated.
hugs to you.
there are, in fact, SOME things I can't write about, LOL...
i wrote a poem about it, wanna see? :D:D:D
gawd, i'm a dork, yeah? x number of votes from me say "hell yeah you are!!!" , or... I am... or
Originally posted by PastaNazi (so... i'm doing competetive performace poetry in 13 days... i have to memorize three 3-minute pieces and get the whole visual expression together....
dude, that's crazy insane! i give you all the credit for being able to remember even one 3-minute piece....way to go! are there any that allow you to refer to paper? my memory sucks.
are there any of these competetive performances held in michigan? this is totally cool. keep it up, kid-o!
...i'm catching up, been away for awhile. this one is Beautiful.
Originally posted by PastaNazi no? well that's okay
i wasn't talking anyway
i wasn't talking anyway
except to say
except to say that i did love you
i know i did, i remember baking cookies and noting which shoes looked good on you
i remember walking through isles upon isles of men's shirts and telling saleswomen what fantastic legs you had...
so give me the shorter shorts
i remember holding your head to my chest and making my heart beat louder so you would feel me feeling your pain
i remember trying
i remember trying to hoist one hundred and ninety pounds and carry you to bed so you wouldn't feel left out
and hooking my hand into the bend of your elbow as we walked through town...
dhnt dhnt dhnt dhnt dhnt.... so.... is this thing on?
no? well that's okay.
i wasn't talking anyway.
i wasn't talking anyway
except to say
except to say that i did love you.
i remember crying under crosses for you to save me
and for you to let me save you (kcufer)
i remember when all words flew like wine from our lips, our fingertips sore with all the click, click, click, click.
i remember the face i thought you were making
and the way i thought you sat on your couch
and the way we'd always speak in metaphors
taking special note of all the cosmic bindings between the you and i
yeah... so...
dhnt dhnt dhnt....is this thing on?
no? well, that's okay...
i wasn't talking anyway
i wasn't talking anyway
except to say
except to say
i don't believe love goes away,
for me it doesn't anyway
and maybe,
maybe soon someday
i'll take my mirror to Bombay
and love it in an alleyway
our malaise held fast in sway
and maybe She wont float away
you dirty, dirty whore
would you like another banana?
...shameless indeed! lol
Originally posted by Being Enlightened OR BANANAS!!!
ie.
Swallowed
Look so perfect
I remove your covering
Naked for all to see
Hold you in my hand
Even more enticing
Lick my lips with anticipation
Open my mouth
Take you in
So smooth on my tongue
A mouth full of sweet, sticky goodness
I swallow you down
Bit by bit
Inch by inch
Until you are completely consumed
And then throw away the peel
Shameless, I am, just shameless!
And yes, fins/cass/dyao/phish do need to expose their brilliant and lovely minds for discussion on this topic, I SO agree!
that's just banana cruelty
refer to the previous post for the proper technique
Originally posted by PastaNazi i like how when you squish a banana in the peel really hard, it oozes out all mashed from the splits in the seams...feels nice in the hand
Comments
but WHAT the heck is with LOVE that sends poetry to the orchard???
apples AND oranges???
please... I think the topic warrants some discussion
ie.
Swallowed
Look so perfect
I remove your covering
Naked for all to see
Hold you in my hand
Even more enticing
Lick my lips with anticipation
Open my mouth
Take you in
So smooth on my tongue
A mouth full of sweet, sticky goodness
I swallow you down
Bit by bit
Inch by inch
Until you are completely consumed
And then throw away the peel
Shameless, I am, just shameless!
And yes, fins/cass/dyao/phish do need to expose their brilliant and lovely minds for discussion on this topic, I SO agree!
in spongy iris flower beds
salt logged, non-osmotic, bent
the phase change constant
creaking washed
showered
clean
and stand alone
in what mote
may I now swim
(perhaps i should but dig my own?)
nowhere in my trite repose
a literal and gaping whole
a dried up late spring waterhole
i smite my Siamese dream
as hard and as fast as it smites me
because today
it’s all it is
but, i digress...
forgive?
external ganglia frayed, praying for a quelude, anything, some thing to start the reel reeling in the right direction (where I live)....
ever notice how much a fish brain remembers? quite sad, really, when i think about how many exposures to fake presentations they endure... the scents designed to elicit a strike so some jerkwad with clean pants can feel like a man.
but, i digress...
again
interesting?
externally ganglial umbili-cords ignored, cautered,
fall off and rot in the noon-day sun
a kiss goodbye to my deprived
a kiss goodbye to my deprived
counting the ways
this quiet love shines
while my dinner-bell judgment
sulks in a corner somewhere
with nothing to do
nothing to react to
i can sit
in peace
and smile
"so... this is what it's like to be an adult?"
i wont throw myself from a cliff, declaring
I LOVE!!! YA-HOOOOOOOOOOOU!!!
when i can snuggle up
in your ethereal lap
my ethereal nose
scents your down-nestled calm
be at peace
this day my love
continued grace
rise above
this day my love
continued grace
rise above"
i am humming this softly as a prayer
*a flower for you*
if i keep kissing on you, coleen, the boys are going start lookin'
so what?
kisses to you
in spite of
and in front of
all of 'em
We Think Not
Suppose Heaven is Void.
A black, swirling anti-matter.
Synapses loose, souls not even bouncing.
Suppose Heaven is space,
and that space is too great,
too wide, no, too roomy to encounter God.
Would we, in all our thought-processed souls, embrace that existence entirely whole?
Would sometimes we scream for the flesh-gravity that held us so tightly to our little lives?
Where in between humming a John Denver song, elbow deep in dish soap clouds,
we watched salt-free tears hit the streets of our dreams.
We think not.
Now suppose that Heaven’s the Promise.
The Promise beat down on the Rock of the Ages,
thumped down upon the Good Book's thin pages
and filling the minds of mild wild-eyed Christians?
Suppose, if you must, that Heaven’s been told, in total.
That Man’s greed-colored glasses left out no bold detail.
The streets of gold, the gossamer wings,
the manna to each little black sinner’s dreams.
In all of these quaint suppositions, now I
should hope that my entry to Heaven’s more like
a quick digital pulse of the passion to head
my arms splayed,
with little bright stars in each hand
my eyes opened now,
and absorbing the glory
of everything God’s ever given to Man.
And then, hush now, in the following calm,
a blush and a breeze on my left ear soft whispers
every tear
you never cried
saved someone's life.
btw, i'm not saying that just for the hugs and kisses - though they are always appreciated.
hugs to you.
pasta sucks compared to me!
k
no, seriously - gracias mi amigos, muchas gracias
there are, in fact, SOME things I can't write about, LOL...
i wrote a poem about it, wanna see?
gawd, i'm a dork, yeah? x number of votes from me say "hell yeah you are!!!" , or... I am... or
aaahhhhh fuggit...
HUGS
bestest bestest bestest.
*reads for hours apon hours....*
HI!
(this bump's for anOmis who said... keep 'em coming
Couldn't have said it better myself!
And that Yellow character ain't so bad neither!
Oh, and BTW, "shit" is da shit, little momma!
You make the day go faster.:)
dude, that's crazy insane! i give you all the credit for being able to remember even one 3-minute piece....way to go! are there any that allow you to refer to paper? my memory sucks.
are there any of these competetive performances held in michigan? this is totally cool. keep it up, kid-o!
would you like another banana?
...shameless indeed! lol
refer to the previous post for the proper technique