Keiko Larrieux
Feb 11, 2010

Forever entangled
In every aspect
Of paper pampered baskets

Silicon words
Status dripping
From the print preserved.

Calling his name
He believes.
He is deserved.

Dance to your heart's delight, divide hate from your true love, if you think you have one
Tell her you desperately feel her within you
(How we aim to bring souls to truth when we ignore it ourselves)


She tenses
I sense her,
she bids me
to enter,
I defer
to her

Tramp-stamp style.
Apr 12, 2012

I done
the apple too.
I'll go
on the blame scale
with Ever & The Serpent now.

I just want to go
Tramp-stamp style.
All I need
is a steady pole
to dance on.
Hello, Wednesday nights.
Pass me the fifth
I wanna get belligerent & cocky.

I am living on Food Stamp Kisses.
Feb 11

Hands on my hips
Lips on my thighs,
Unfamiliar eyes meet mine,
They are blue this time.
He gives me the feeling my body misses,
I am living on Food Stamp Kisses.

The hint of a smile,
I step to the side
The spectacular glow
Of the moon outside,
Gives me the feeling my body misses,
I am living on Food Stamp Kisses.

I'm bound to run out
Of the vice that gets me high
I feel that I'm getting low
My emotions are running dry.
I'm craving the feeling my body misses,
I'm dying on Food Stamp Kisses

I no longer worry
About getting through the day
The words that you send me
Are enough for a century
Of needing the feeling my body misses,
And living on Food Stamp Kisses

I’m a stamp -
Raj Arumugam
Raj Arumugam
Sep 27, 2010

I’m a stamp -
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp” -
but I am a stamp
a postage stamp, that is;
unique and proud, in my own class,
for I’ve carried queens and kings and emperors
(I still do)
and I carry Presidents and Poets and Rock Kings
and Pop Kings
and Musicians and Legends and Heroes
and Gods and Nations;
and I carry sexy blondes
and old dames who’ve dedicated their lives to others

I’ve borne with no complaints
the weight of genius
and soldiers and founders of nations
and martyrs; and I do not discriminate
and with like gusto and color
I’ve carried tyrants and murderers and charlatans
and once-were-legends now the shamed;
and look, I can encompass the universe
and within the shapes formed by my perforations
I’ve held together flowers and birds
and all wonders of nature
I am each a poem, a work of art
I’m a stamp -
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp”
(What? You heard me the first time, did you?
Well, I’ll say it again for emphasis!) -
but I am a stamp in my own right, unique and proud -
though, I acknowledge,
the image of Royalty or Heroism or Greatness has
not saved me from various knocks and hard presses
and the rubbish bin!
But then, so have mighty royal heads rolled!
but look, hee…heee….heee…
I can be absolutely adorable,
and I just love, love it when you lick me;
and often too
I’m a collector’s item
increasing in value, and even with artistic merit -
though no doubt, there are countless with no idea
of how so darling precious I am
which is I why
I say proudly again:
I’m a stamp
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp”
(And what? Why do I repeat myself?
Well, there are thousands of copies
of one issue, aren’t there?) -
but I am a stamp in my own right, unique and proud
and I’ve created worlds all of my own
with pen pals and commerce
and industries and clubs round me;
and I’m not alone, you know,
well-supported by relatives
like prepaid postal envelopes, post cards,
letter cards, aerogrammes
all of us served loyally
by unquestioning Gurkha-style postmen and women;
and I’ve brought hearts and minds together
and I do it in a day or days and or weeks
and if I feel like it, I even arrive decades later! –
and there’s nothing you can do about it!
And oh yes, I can see, you’re prone to neglecting me -
you ungrateful scoundrels! -
first replacing me with cold
Franking Machines,
and cheap, unimpressive, unimaginative franking marks
and with postage meters
imprinting an indicia;
and all of you now
deriding my world as snail pace
in your world of instant e-mails -
but I persist, and I still am of much use
for - listen carefully -
and I say proudly again:
I’m a stamp
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp” -
but I am a stamp in my own right, unique and proud;
and if you, once in a while,
want to show me your loyalty –
come to a local post office and lick my royal butt!

Forward and fall in love with his own stamp of beauty.
Oct 13

I kissed someone in the night,
Then woke to moan my plight,
No one to sing my song with me,
But contentment soon the object of my sight,
The Maker is my might,
Who better to sing in harmony?
Than the one who gave to me?
The melody of soul.
He sweeps the stars in dulcet patterns,
And creams the clouds for frosting,
He bends the eyelash and reddens lips,
Adds all the sweetness to make our hearts dip,
Forward and fall in love with his own stamp of beauty.
The Stamper is the most beautiful;
No crafted canyon, or molded man can compare to the Maker of it all,
For he only takes what is his and gives it out like candy,
To the mouths of all his children, unaware of his hand.
I want to be aware, to see indescribable things,
To watch with inner eyes what few else have seen,
To hear a song of a different dimension,
Lovely amidst dissension, and run towards that which can,
Really, give me what I want,
Give me what I need.

May 23, 2013
#dream   #beauty   #single   #stamp  
Excuse me, who gave you my stamp of approval

Excuse me, who gave you my stamp of approval
to look at me with such audacity?
If you enjoy looking and not talking, I suggest you google
girls with no self-respect or authenticity.

You think I enjoy being stared at by a stranger?
Or is it that you simply see me as an object,
or that talking to me would result in danger
of finding between us a mental disconnect?

Listen up, boys of age middle school and onward:
girls don't profit from any gawks or crude comments.
And if you want a real relationship that's less awkward,
then make conversation, start friendships, then commitments.

as though God took a big rubber stamp
Hannah Johnson
Apr 7, 2011

there is a word on my forehead

as though God took a big rubber stamp

and a bright red ink pad

took me by the back of the head to steady me and

pressed it right on

making sure every letter

was permanent

then He let me go.

i wandered around lost for awhile

at first only vaguely aware something was there

i knew very well the looks i received

meant i had a lable i could not see

but the more i squinted at myself in the mirror

the deeper the lines bled together

i knew i was smudged

but was still illiterate.

i woke up to it one day

the world suddenly

all too clear.

and when i looked in the mirror then

reading the word meant now

i could define it

no longer allowing the opposite

turning stigma and shame into

something i can work with.

My Name Here
My Name Here
Jun 27, 2011

Today. I was almost hit by a car,
wearing a scarlet dress
the way I least wanted to die
by the grill of an SUV.
The engine grinned hotly in my face.
the look on his face was priceless
I bet mine was better.
as I gasped, no room in
vocal cords for screaming
held my hands out
as if that would stop the metal from moving
tires screeched.
I don't know why he turned so sharply
I don't know why I put my arms out
or had to walk that way
that particular day
my hands shook  in line
at kinkos, holding back every chemical
mixing violently.
saying please and thank you
for two sheets of paper
that could have mattered less
pulling sunglasses
over my face with a case of the shakes

life just stamped me with an appreciation
for itself
only taught by almost getting hit by an SUV.

life went on around me, the workers in yellow on the corner
got a few moments of thrill.
the folks at Starbucks
the other people grinding their teeth at the stoplights.
a moment excitement.

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