Tag Archives: prose

Bathe


Bathe

Bathe

Bathe in the smugness of others

Flirt if it is a must to interact

It’s of no importance

You’re the task-at-hand

You’ve grown unnoticed

Then uglier with greed

Witness the competition

Try to entrap your ego

You easily spot the crazy ones

By the sheer fact they choose a straw

No children to neglect here

Let’s say good-bye

Yes the crime has been noted

My finder’s fee is large

I must take your sport

Standing tall in this sudden crowd

Emotions clear by the hair on your head

Let’s speed dial the band

They fall distinctly and lightly weak

Pains one to watch

When they claim better

No rhyme in a rhythm

Wicked to beat

Yet smelling sensational

My ink fades to blot

Noticing blood in the water

The victim laughs knowing a drop

Will create clouds in the wetness

Maybe just bad teachers

Or stubborn to be taught

Ovulation dictates my choices

Knowing you have been a mother

Without a daughter to be seen

Spaghetti’s and Sprite

Meals eaten continually

Run and win to kill

Maybe being dirty

Will take you back to Paris

I parked and bored

Some guess this never to be proved

Third Cup is next to scatter

I’m not at all impressed

Fingernail tips so black

Same color as my cousin

Let’s go let’s go let’s go

Where can I bathe I have to know.


Weaker than Yesterday, Stronger than Tomorrow


She cried

somewhere deep in her chest

like the lions roar

but somehow stronger

not even remembering

the details that brought her here

and as she trembled

she felt that when

yet nothing else

could make the difference

for an empty soul

like her broken heart

and confused mind

physical destruction

her self harm

her life had brought her here

for no particular reason

with no particular purpose

the pain is what drove her

now it’s what owned her

and nothing can change that

not even a reconciliation

she feels no self-pity

no guilt

knows she is innocent

but fools herself

into believing

that all be true

she knows no truth

and has no fight

unable to strike

without consequences

far greater than her pain

she has no one to turn to

know one to talk to

in theory at least

because how could you talk

of such horrible things

that almost brought her to death

she’s weaker than yesterday

stronger than tomorrow

sits numb in today

as does she

she is anonymous

must be protected this way

will die to practice this

and live to ensure it

why her

before even she could move

her destiny was determined

her mother completely unaware

if only we could see

what lies before us

before it does

just maybe

just maybe

we could stop pain

since when does the mean

rule the world

such a stupid question

from a naïve girl

wonder what a magician

would cost to remedy

the life of the child

out of surgery

into recovery

from a broken heart

and she to be opened

and rectified

but not before the child

seems they will start again

with strength in there will

she cannot

now will left to be shown

a capture snapshot

of just one moment

when together they were

as one

knowing nothing of the future

that would bring them such pain

undeniably

ruining their lives

forever

and never

Dedicated

to a young sweet teenager. And it has been told she is seemingly exactly like her mother.


A brothel’s ceiling fan


As my memory rests

I never forget why I loved

They told me innocence will never last

I am 40 something, needing to be hugged

Once drenched in pain

Choked back in childhood

When I would dip my right hand

In that gray flour and its gravity

Love is so rare

A handful of ash holds

The entire worlds weight

I belong a long way from here

Will you plunge through my home door

Announce by dance you are here

Get me tied in a love knot, bitten free

Let’s still get stoned

Show me your veined hands

We’ll play and slumber in my life boat

Only to wake, feeling your breath

On my neck. Don’t tell me I am beautiful, show me

Let me learn from your animistic release

Depend on this breeze, as we do our chemicals

To cease my fear your embrace that seeks to still me

Truth is I need to be inspired and dream of you

It’s true there must be an angel smiling on her face

When she thought up ways to put one on mine

Only in tears though do I speak in the dark

Keep your predatory clench in your powerful jaw

It hurts to eat, so you surrender my needs

Inspiring me, releasing me, strengthening me

Now gathering up moms clothes for the poor

A litter of souls, I love as I was protected

Dreadlocks or crew cuts, i spend with my life

Pleasing up my men, only one broke

Blown open, a girl again for the first time

I listened to the earths heartbeat, finally

I am inspired, everyone I miss left hurt

Some have claimed my heart as theirs

When my last love came, he slid a palm

Across my eyes and lent me his mouth

Laid his head in the middle of me

Bent me, and my face rests on the

Meadow of his chest, again to listen

To the earths heartbeat

I see many windows vacant

No one keeps the brothel‘s ceiling fan

Or the infants mouth sewn shut

Suppose none of us stay in one place long

Last night my dream was so deep

My bed came UNroped from it’s actions

My father in the doorway, dead

Just home from the graveyard shift

Inspired as I possess that brothel’s ceiling fan

It has seen all that I do

It is silent and wicked

I find comport as it has seen worse

It’s blue

My brothel’s ceiling fan

My favorite toy and rhythm

Count its turns, as it drills a new hole

Tragic

Tricks of magic

Mix it

Or magic in tricks

Depending on the gift of its breeze

While doing chemicals

Expired

Piles of condoms

Blue.

My magic brothel fan.


The Brothel’s Ceiling Fan


An electric ceiling fan.

the brothel‘s ceiling fan

as my memory rests

i never forget why i loved

they told me innocence will never last

i am 40 something, needing to be hugged

once drenched in pain

choked back in childhood

when i would dip my right hand

in that gray flour and its gravity

love is so rare

a handful of ash holds

the entire world’s weight

i belong a long way from here

will you plunge through my home door?

announce by dance you are here

get me tied in a love knot, bitten free

let’s still get stoned

show me your veined hands

we’ll play and slumber in my life boat

only to wake, feeling your breath

on my neck. don’t tell me i am beautiful, show me

let me learn from your animistic release  (animalistic?)

depend on this breeze, as we do our chemicals

to cease my fear your embrace that seeks to still me

truth is i need to be inspired and dream of you

it’s true there must be an angel smiling on her face

when she thought up ways to put one on mine

only in tears though do i speak in the dark

keep your predatory clench in your powerful jaw

it hurts to eat, so you surrender my needs

inspiring me, releasing me, strengthening me

now gathering up moms clothes for the poor

a litter of souls, i love as i was protected

dreadlocks or crew cuts,i spend with my life

pleasing up my men, only one broke

blown open, a girl again for the first time

i listened to the earth’s heartbeat, finally

i am inspired, everyone i miss left hurt

some have claimed my heart as theirs

when my last love came, he slid a palm

across my eyes and lent me his mouth

laid his head in the middle of me

bent me, and my face rests on the

meadow of his chest, again to listen

to the earth’s heartbeat

i see many windows vacant

no one keeps the brothel’s ceiling fan

or the infants mouth sewn shut

suppose none of us stay in one place long

last night my dream was so deep

my bed came unroped from it’s actions

my father in the doorway, dead

just home from the graveyard shift

inspired as i possess that brothel’s ceiling fan

it has seen all that i do

it is silent and wicked

i find comfort as it has seen worse

it’s blue

my brothel’s ceiling fan

my favorite toy and rhythm

count its turns, as it drills a new hole

tragic

tricks of magic

mix it

or magic in tricks

depending on the gift of its breeze

while doing chemicals

expired

piles of condoms

blue.

my magic brothel ceiling fan.

kindle or smashwords or createspace


droplet


Blue dye being dropped in a saucer of milk.

Blue dye being dropped in a saucer of milk. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

droplet

and so,

she refused to ponder

why she was dry

when water poured from the sky

and lizards scattered for cover

she could not be penetrated

not even by nature

and so she walked with her cane

both hips out of joint

while smoking a menthol

never a worry to be different

bruised ankles and a slippery umbrella handle

kept her mind working

read into that all that you will

she minds not of your opinion

one single droplet

found on pavement

had her mesmerized

wanting to squish it

but could not bend forward

or tumble she would

ugly she truly was

to the degree of scary

side note of an information tidbit

huffed then and proceeded to limp

the garden was wet but still not she

cactus were buried amongst the arrangement

all rooted for future growth

yet many dead, pedals brown

when all should be sketched

charcoal stones dirty from bugs

earths dirt seemingly the cleanest element

must rectify these dead beings

able and ready having not able to get wet

not work but an act of bravery

hips screaming she still persevered

finishing her sculpture of nature by early afternoon

she moved forward to strut her journey

head facing down

no sign of happiness even when she tried

she bitched and moaned

how hard done by was she

not liked by a soul

she loved no one

adored herself

spoke rudely to agitate

yelled at younglings

kicked stray cats

with the power to know

just how to disappear

timing was critical all the time

allow her the space

she will steal it all

listened to everything

so ammunition was ripe

tasted her bad breath with delight

hairy chin as the elderly sport

careless of appearance to delight

seeking refuge in her plastic bags

the cart that stored them was faulty

one wheel flat, another wobbly

held exactly what she needed in life

her skin was plastic

made of colors

torn and stretched

to encase her life

protect her assets

coffin her rubbish

maybe she tasted bitter

maybe not

but onlookers swear she took her shots

hot to rumble anyone

like fried eggs, her center was soft

she led on to new passengers

smoked a pack a day

with black tea stained teeth to prove it

she smiled often to gross someone out

snickered at their reaction

her cart was having a trial

mechanic she was perfection

the cart would soon skateboard again

determined at any thought she lived

every now and again she could be spotted

gluing her shoes to keep her soul

who judge her, how long did she live

those types are delicately snobby

still the water dropped from the sky

yet not touching her one drop

maybe magic held this old woman

maybe fluke attacks to her being

pages of coupons lying to herself

where there is no money one must pretend

seeking refuge in handouts that begged

sought-after compassion to spite her demeanour

kill them she thought at 1st and offering

one that would save her for the next hour

giraffes slowly walk by this rainy day

birds were hiding in towering trees

worms were not afraid

it was them that had to be eaten

to survive the war on water

she left her life a while ago

now just functioning as she must

proud of her anger she moved forward

ate her worms and fixed her cart

in her matrix she was immortal

meeting for nothing

despising the people

even animals large and small

make no apologies

and found herself thirsty

raised her face towards the sky

opened her mouth

it took more than 1 droplet

refreshed she smiled blackening teeth

and turned to stare at a stranger


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