when you can't tell methane from Mexico
liz paula
liz paula
Mar 24

When is it that you've had enough
when you can't tell methane from Mexico
and the bruises on your knees
resemble the hickies
from the drug dealer boyfriend
you left last summer

I remember him very well
and picture his blurred face
Looking at me longingly
from between my legs

he was sweaty
and I was vulnerable
and he used every inch of my body
to convince me of his desire

but I dont mind
and an certainly not shameful
of that curiosity I developed
for telling skunk from week
and the admiration
and sexual frustration
for the cholo type of boy

sometimes I miss you
but maybe those are nights
that I'm not getting any

Joel M Frye
Joel M Frye
Feb 9, 2011

Conjunctions creak, the adverbs ache,
nouns bear more than they can take.
Verbs are screaming for Ben-Gay
while pronouns atrophy away.

Adjectives have lost their bite,
possessives just give up the fight.
The subject's upset, naught agrees,
which weakens metaphoric knees.

Contractions all together moan;
the objects better left alone.
Ah, life is at a frightful stage
when poets and their poems age.

"The Minister of Silly Poems will see you now." :P
2-9-2011 JMF
inhaling our methane
Jonny Angel

Hunkered down,
freezing in nylon
we spooned,
hugging one another,
inhaling our methane
& laughing,
as gale-winds screamed
all around us,
the only sounds we heard,
high up on the cold shoulder.

as anal methane fills the air
Lady Francis

So big this tiny hole opens up

And the sound blasts out so abrupt

The stench suffocates the breathing

Water comes to eyes everywhere
as anal methane fills the air

No one wants to be blamed for
the toxic air un-freshener

Everyone assumes its the bum
and moves away from her

I try to keep a straight face until
I get off the train

Then locate a rest room
and check for stains

As traces of methane gasses are exposed in places the earth
taylor roff

As traces of methane gasses are exposed in places the earth has chosen to reveal in manners that are hazardous
My scars are revealed in a way that has less passion than two lovers fighting for a last glimpse of each other as time passes
Fragments of ashes fall faster as massive blasts create matter in dances that hold the fragrance of eminent disaster

Produce mucho methane
John F McCullagh

There’s safety in numbers
I’ve oft heard it said-
Unless there are ninety cows
stuck in a shed.
Those numerous ruminants
Munching on hay
Produce mucho methane
in the course of a day.
Ninety odd bovines
Snacking on grass
Take in the fuel
And produce moos and gas.
Those flatulent heifers
Many cow pies produced
Until a stray spark
blew a hole in the roof.
It was shocking to the farmer
And a blow to the farm,
But at least we take comfort
That not one cow was harmed.

based on an incident in Germany
Let's let more methane out into the sky
Mackenzie Murphy
Mackenzie Murphy
Apr 16, 2013

Let's return to carbon
Decompose in the sand
Die together hand in hand.
I've been dying to meet someone like you.

Let's let more methane out into the sky
Our skin has been burnt by the shiny sun
Our bones have been frosted
Like the limbs of winter trees,
And our eyes have seen both be done.
I will love you to bits and pieces until
I am bits and pieces.

Let's quit this dying and
Die for what we did
For it was for each other, in which we never lived

I've been dying all my life
To meet someone like you.

The methane helps me stay alive.
Caleb Eli Price
Caleb Eli Price
Mar 3, 2011

What did ya think,
Uh oh,
Did ya think,
You could float on with the rest,
Just sink into the mess.
Did you,
Want some help up,
Did you think you'd help yourself up,
Or maybe you realized
The methane helps me stay alive.
And when you,
Sat there thinking,
With your hands against your palms,
Did you think you could just get up and then sink into my arms.
I'm sorry,
I neglected to tell you,
I am just a ghost.
I am just a spirit or a memory at most.

© 2011 Caleb Elijah Price. Reproduction in whole or in part is strictly prohibited.
Methane speaks
Keiko Larrieux
Dec 17, 2009

Slushy, grungy, muddy
Plaster wall
Smashing plates
States fall

Branched anger
Tearing fear
Leafy goals
Plaster wall
Experience molds.

Lights out
I began to shout

Lit by ignition
Methane speaks
Losing cognition
I feel weak.

Luckily, blind
I knew you could see
Water leaked
Imaginary guarantee

I am safe.
Swallowing debris
Like a hero without a cape

I decided to run for ages
Under leafy dreams
Everything burned
Now it’s my turn

I decided to run for ages
I looked back .
I see burned pages

Leafy branches withdrawn
My whole life wasted.
My whole life is gone.

its' dense methane skies.
Mar 10, 2010

Can you see the path
I've made to the stars?
Where moonlight defines
a very good night,
where the moon's fury spills
her soft silver light
over twenty million poets
all at once.
I walk barefoot upon
the stars.
I write of gentle revolutions,
Saturn turns out to be
my best friend.
My pathway leads back behind
the sparkling pools of Neptune,
the pools much more blue than
its' dense methane skies.
As I sit beneath this tree
of Paradise,
wish YOU were here.


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