A size 14 at the age of 14 she didn’t love the body she was in
But how can you blame her, she did have a seventeen magazine subscription
Airbrushed girls, with their perfect pin curls showing you how to be pretty
Gap thin thighs, the one thing she did despise but would certainly die
to get.
She tried it all
Starvation lasted not more then a week because for food she was weak
Switching it up
She would feed her addiction just to plummet it into the toilet and then flush it away at the end of the day
She tried it
Gagged so hard, stuck her fingers down her throat so far
Till she thought she felt her tonsils
Worst decision of her life
She never tried it again after that night.

She gave up the pursuit of the beautiful magazine look and lived her self conscience life
Grew up with it until it became her best friend..never to part until the end.
Junior year, she’s now 16 turning 17 and some things are starting to change
She’s getting attention from other guys and yeah it’s a bit strange

That day she stood in the mirror and just stared
Stared at what she avoided for three years
Stared at her curvature, skin, smile and then
That’s when she realized, she was actually a beautiful toothsome girl
A different kind of elegant pearl
Belonging to the finest columbine

She had the hips that every girl in her school talked about
The teeth of pearly whites that complimented her biggest smiles
She was growing into herself, slowly loving herself the way she is
Five years past now she’s in her 20′s
Her best friend from earlier years still pays a visit because even though she knows her beaut she still held on to her self conscience mess
Oddly enough it was her comfort from the first time they ever met.
Maybe one day she’ll find herself a new best friend
One that’s more uplifting then the last one has been

The deliverance of life echoed into that of pounding death
This frozen tower metamorphosing into a coffin sealed and fated
That gorgon’s gaze did I meet and uttered not a breath
Lost in those frightened eyes, thoughts left me sedated

“You stare so... Father, what is it?”

There I sat, day circling into night
By the dawn light through a reflection
I caught through their tragic sight
Left me gnawing at my hands, objection

“You put this wretched flesh upon us and now you may strip it off!”


Calmed my soul and silence we sat, another moon waxing

“Father, why don’t you help me?”

Left your lips while your languid soul seeps
Blind now with no words to offer
One by one perished but never did I weep
In the end
Hunger proved more powerful than grief.

Ours was like fireworks
in the mid-summer sky
Radiant,
       Iridescent,
                   Incredulous,
                              Alive
but the finale came suddenly, unexpectedly soon,
& the band played on,
as if nothing had changed,
as if a fountain of sparkling embers and flame
had not just erupted mere inches away.
And now,
where explosions once seared summer's sky with crackling thunderous incandescent delight
Only whispers and wisps of smoke remain,
Scattered by the breeze,
Whithered, then, by rain.
And of the evening's reveries precious little can be found:
some soured beer in crumpled cans, discarded haphazardly
surrounding a threadbare picnic bedspread
rumpled beneath the branches of an ancient live oak tree.
Dew now wet where lovers once had lain,
staring up into the night
in wonder, ignorant of such banal things
like: masquerading lust in love's robes, declaring,
"I've never loved a love as deep as the love I have for you,"
and truly being unaware of the uncanny substitute;
Or the unbridled disenchantment unleashed by abandonment
and the inevitable transience of an insufferable pain.

We ****** on bar balcony balustrades, over looking city streets.
We ditched tampons into trees rather than wait to satisfy our needs.
We left your ******* in a planter
on a patio under an eve
On purpose, So that some poor, unassuming shop-keep
Would find them
(along with cigarette butts and an empty bag of ****)
and have no choice but think to themselves,
"Did someone **** here?"
and then immediately understand the answer is
"Yes. Exuberantly!"

We defiled. every. place. we went;
giggling with glee at all of our indiscretions.

Oh how many indiscretions could there possibly be?
We shall know;
All of them!

And so we did,

And we were free.



On new years eve I carried you piggyback in your peacock blue sequined gown through the streets of our ****-soaked-gutter-of-a-town.
You were barefoot, drunk, and refusing to be told what to do,
that you had to wear your shoes,
that the streets were far to ***** and dangerous for your tender little feet- you said "Just let me be, It's fine. It wont **** me..."
then, looking at the gutter, continued,
"probably.
And these shoes already are, so..." sticking out your tongue
But I couldn't put you down.
Not in that place, not at that time.
Nor did I even want to. I could have carried you all night
(which was fortunate, because for most of itI did.)
We were declared the city's cutest couple by a stranger on the sidewalk whom we passed while galloping down the street, you, giggling, alight upon my back, running at full speed. This declaration was reaffirmed by everyone met.

A pixie, you know, will always trip you up
(they're natural pranksters you see).
Their magic is undeniable, but oh what trouble they can be.

- My toothsome little faerie - You meant trouble for me;
but what a beautiful, beguiling mess you turned out to be,

You snuck pixie dust into everywhere we went, and
Dispensed it with abandon-
Spread it like caution to the wind.
Sanctifying everything and everyone we met.
That poor city was baptized in our joy.
It's sins washed into glittering gutters,
where we lay sparkling, genuine and loved.


We broke the records that night,
all of them, known and not.

We loved harder than diamond,
than a trailer-hitch to the shin,
Deeper than the fathoms of the trenches at the bottom of the sea.

We made soulmates seem like strangers.
We spoke nonsense fluently.
We shared mind and body, food and drink,
and careless wanton play.

It was

The most
     *******
          Fun
   I've ever had
       in my life...

Probably the most that I ever will.


Every moment I was with you had
the sizzle and the tease
of a bottle-rocket, lit
and held between my teeth.

I knew that I'd get burned
If I held it to the end,
But I did it just to prove I could;
To prove to me
That I was brave enough
To be unashamed
  To be unafraid
   To be.

Why is it that Poetry has never yet been subjected to that process of Dilution which has proved so advantageous to her sister-art Music? The Diluter gives us first a few notes of some well-known Air, then a dozen bars of his own, then a few more notes of the Air, and so on alternately: thus saving the listener, if not from all risk of recognising the melody at all, at least from the too-exciting transports which it might produce in a more concentrated form. The process is termed "setting" by Composers, and any one, that has ever experienced the emotion of being unexpectedly set down in a heap of mortar, will recognise the truthfulness of this happy phrase.

For truly, just as the genuine Epicure lingers lovingly over a
morsel of supreme Venison - whose every fibre seems to murmur "Excelsior!" - yet swallows, ere returning to the toothsome dainty, great mouthfuls of oatmeal-porridge and winkles: and just as the perfect Connoisseur in Claret permits himself but one delicate sip, and then tosses off a pint or more of boarding-school beer: so also -

I NEVER loved a dear Gazelle -
NOR ANYTHING THAT COST ME MUCH:
HIGH PRICES PROFIT THOSE WHO SELL,
BUT WHY SHOULD I BE FOND OF SUCH?

To glad me with his soft black eye
MY SON COMES TROTTING HOME FROM SCHOOL;
HE'S HAD A FIGHT BUT CAN'T TELL WHY -
HE ALWAYS WAS A LITTLE FOOL!

But, when he came to know me well,
HE KICKED ME OUT, HER TESTY SIRE:
AND WHEN I STAINED MY HAIR, THAT BELLE
MIGHT NOTE THE CHANGE, AND THUS ADMIRE

And love me, it was sure to dye
A MUDDY GREEN OR STARING BLUE:
WHILST ONE MIGHT TRACE, WITH HALF AN EYE,
THE STILL TRIUMPHANT CARROT THROUGH.

On our knees, working the naked Ken
to mount the clueless Barbie, making
them moan, screaming, "O! O! O! O!"
Dumb toothsome puppets, self-satisfied,

bubble gum Corvette, her small ***, huge knockers,
and nothing proven or dared, solving
bodies unlike those we pushed so hard against —
me and my Easy Bake, you and your erector set.

Rendered offenses
Sweat in the opinion, sakes
And due attention, to reason amends
Acting only a little saner, the stark stare a host makes...

Do you notice, evermore?
Anyway, the truth we prepose of...
Has a callous beginning, too sore
For a challenge of wisdom, that even does?

Prayers of dour anger...
For the aspire and means we favor
With a realm to a touch, tough knowing you and life's danger...
The reality of another fight, with sin as the futures flavor?

Speed has a question, dwindling in the wind
Suspect days, to redoubt and list the scope of an argument
That has the silence we afforded it, to keep the shadows of kin
Proper is as proper had, the hush of simple tomorrows, a problem to relent...

Toward sharing, the taste of a hoping kiss...?
That when recognized, sympathy is an answer; only a heed can tell...
The prayer of estrangement, has become a chastity's wish
Will a savior in love, know the better of kindness; here's your hell...

With a baring lip, that has suggested a toothsome reply to quips
And hearts to accept the solace of terror, a harrowing finish to past lies...?
That began and ended with a promise found in the bolting and gray wits
Of a dread simplicity, still running to wisdom's charity, which requited...

yeux de TwiligLanguecoquette
Me noyer dans ta bave
Vivifier moi tranquille veut
Sable nuits nous Endulge dans
Obscurci par l'opacité des duskiness
Préparez-moi dans airify fraîche
Jog moi comme au sein ont été clarifiées
Faire un tour
Montez,
Talk toothsome
Sirupeux ludique
Glissant sur ourn propre amour
Sueur Ambrosial
Pas savoir aux hommes ou aux fantômes
High Hopes rester élevé
extranjeros amorosas contrairement à la plupart
Chéri
Bien fait
Kins d'exposition au-delà
Non destiné à la page en kiosque
Éveils subissent-sons popping
Sécréter les crys de chiens hurlants
Dynamitage comme un sprite
Délicieux sur des plaques d'esprits
Plébéiens à l'attribut non du monde
Brutes de la romance désespérée
Nous feras danser l'amour de la mine de danse
Nous seras valse dans laquelle tu ourn étapes
Voyage un de l'autre!      ( french)

English-

Twilight eyes
Flirtatious tongue
Drown me in thy slaver
Vivify me for tranquil wants
Sable nights endulge us in
Obscured by opacity of duskiness
Brace me in cool airify
Jog me as within were clarified
Take a ride
Get in,
Toothsome talk
Syrupy playful
Slippery on ourn own amour
Ambrosial sweat
Not known to men or ghosts
High hopes to stay high
extranjeros amorosas unlike the most
Darling
Well made
Kins of afterlife exposure
Not meant for newsstand page
Arousals heated popping sounds
Secrete the howling dog crys
Blasting out as a sprite
Delicious on plates of minds
Plebians to non world attribute
Brutes of hopeless romance
We shalt dance the dance mine love
We shalt waltz wherein ourn steps shalt
Trip one another!!!

Bribing for Uthamaki survival,
Made Kenya a fortune’s fool,
Not only Kenya but those that gave
And received bribes of all sorts,
Job favour and money favour
To make Uthamaki an eternal kingdom,
They all chewed un-toothsome slices
Of the public fortune’s fools,

They were bribed by cars, money, jobs,
Lands, upmarket houses. And all the stuffs
Of bribery regalia, and then they went dumb,
On truth and facts of the day; them; Chiloba and
Chebukat, dumb they went holus-bolus in the manacle
Of the claws of Uthamaki and its jostle for eternity,
Like the victims of slaughter in Tolstoyan epics.
They hated the truth and fell in love with falsehood,
Feeding children of Kenya on the brutality of Gebelawi,
Faked elections and police brutality in the alley of Samantha,
She died seeing the club of a full geared anti-riot police, it was
All but power of the bribe in the vacuum of conscience,
The true desire of our ages, ages, ages, ages; desire for ages,
A bribe can ****, yes it killed Musando,
A bribe can ****, yes it killed Juma,
A bribe can ****, yes it killed Samantha Pendo,
A bribe can **** yes it killed Stephanie on the balcony,
The bribe kills brutally when taken in line of duty,
A job promotion to job security fight for Uthamaki,
It kills brutally when received in line of avarice;
More land, houses in Karen, swollen bank dove-cots,
Free lunch and air-ticket windows of the bribe,
That can ******* to death when siring Uthamaki,

A bribe kills reason, mires power of truth,
A bribe fetters love for truth but bigotry extolled,
It can sent you to Paris sprinting with the keys
To the server room stuffed in your pocket,
A bribe warps the mind of the giver and the taker,
It makes democracy look the platter on which
Was John’s head, I mean the Baptist,

Uthamaki nourishes itself on the power of crime,
Looting, corruption, ***** riches, prostitution, lawless
hawking, Cartels, land-stealing, insider contracting,
faked academic testimonies, employment by tribe,
gangstering like Mungikification of the youths, insider
tendering, and now computer-generated uthamaki
all but nothing less than power of the bribe,

legerity is full in the hands of Uthamaki,
to condemn the sit that loves the truth,
fairness and justice is the harmful light to the bat’s eye
of Uthamaki, Uthamaki and the truth are oil and water,
uthamaki and the truth are as a Muslim and pork
uthamaki and the truth are an Israeli and an Arab,
they are an anti-thesis, Kenya a battle-field. Uthamaki
the thesis of imperial selfishness, democratic truth
the poor child of Kenya on the guillotine made of bribe,

Uthamaki has the name an epiphany all over,
Hospitals, schools, roads, avenues, maternity homes
Colleges, toilets, airports, prisons, barracks beyond zero,
And so forth, they all bare the name Uthamaki,
Uthamaki where are your age-mates and prison mates
Imprisoned for parting in struggle for freedom, Uthamaki,
You have stolen Kenya’s history and slaughtered the owners
At the slaughter-stone of bribe, using the tribe as your Knife,

I can't tell if any fleas
Have smaller fleas upon them;
But I can feel that on these fleas
Are giant jaws; and toothsome.

These fleas are opportunists, sure,
They hop from leg, to arm, to floor;
Each leaves behind a bit of gore:
There's nothing smaller I abhor.

They're nearly invisible and yet
Upon me I can feel them set;
And tear out great big chunks of- Nyet!
A bigger fiend, I've never met.

it has become
cliché
we know
the once delicious
alien
names are
only
everyday
not
fiercesome
not
fiendish
not promises of
blood
drenched
daggers anymore.
these names were
standards
rally around the flag wear the flag
proudly
pin-striped lapel on porch on bumper
these names
fail
fall
flat
we must seek
something new flavored with
just the right taste of
wet
iron
new
rallying cry to
gather in
constructed
terror
behind
architecture
unknown
shelter
united deflected covered wrapped
against
this
shiny new promise
seductive new enemy more
toothsome
sharper
and
we are re
focused dis-
tracted
bound to-
gether
against
new pre-
fabricated
foe
with tasty new name
and we can watch mouths agape
drooling
fascinated
seduced
titillated
the new-fashioned series waiting for
next
exciting
episode
while outside
elsewhere
plump ravenous generals
masticate
digest
defecate
small
carcasses
empty
skulls
s­hredded
skin
under a
building-powdered
once golden
dome

Nobody can comprehend;
It baffles one and all
Just how much I love Edam
And pine for Emmental.

Gouda smoked is very toothsome
The same is with Gruyère
And Mozarella and I have
An eternal love affair.

Cheddar when it's sharp and sweet
Is an absolute delight!
Parmesan, simply divine
When it is aged just right.

Some may call it an obsession
But I don't seek a cure,
For though all the world may melt away,
My love for cheese endures!

She soldiers on
with a limp
from an old gunshot wound
that put a stammer in her soul.

She hesitates upon standing,
and often winces at an over-hastened step.
Stairs are her nightmare, as is most anything up.
Like being trapped
in a cage made of rubber bands
she is limited, but can force her way
in some direction.

She wont tell you how she got it
nor even where it really is.
The thigh, the hip, the gut; as is anyone's guess.

My money's on somewhere else.

She is dissolved in some solution
made with three parts carbolic acid
two parts toothsome regret
one part
pure concentrated time.

If I could pick her up and carry her
I would
but she
would scream, and kick, and holler
I know. So I'll let her limp
It's her way.

I don't mean to be trigger happy.

The undetectable delectable soul
Contemptuously consumed
By the indelibly doomed
The spirit a commestible
Ingested in full
By the restless evil
eager for prey
Every morsel digested
In a remorseless way
gluttonous beast desires the taste
The lecherous feast goes not to waste
scrumptious for toothsome consumption
Vicious parasitic imbuing of
Delicious sacrament of ruin
Does not satisfy the appetite of wicked delight
The monster hungers for just one more bite

Stale greens served again
At the same tables
Echoed conversations amidst the
Glow of brilliant faces
In a room, a windowless
Place of task and
Of mere knowing

We traded desire for
Errant follow-though
Like chapped lips locked
Where we might have gone
- A mouth of salty water -
If we had not stayed
- A chassis’ curdled rust -

We dream of tired eyes
Sleepless till the dawn
Sore hamstrings while running
Chasing the stuff unknown
A lemon meringue
First ****, then toothsome
So inspired by where we reach

zeitgeist
yuppiedoms

xanthic
whatsits

vibrate
unabashedly

toot­hsome
salutations

requiring
qualifications

pernickety
officiald­om

nagging
malestroms

leaving
kindness

jaundiced
imoliated

**­rrendous
gargoyles

feign
empathy

disastrous
calamity

boodles
a­tonement

I feel
I learned
to speak

by reading.

I don't remember
the joy of shouting
with accuracy

some signified
entity aloud,

but I recall the sensation
of annoyance at sounding
out the toothsome shapes
at such a slow pace

compared to the force of
words creation exploding
in meaning and references

within such a
small space.

I remember that first dose
From the gawky greeting to affecting adios
In the drunken darkness I prowled
Watching that boisterous dancing crowd
I thought you a goddess, a toothsome treat
And from the golden apple did I eat
Small bites
Became all nights
All nights blurred into days
It’s all kind of a haze
And now
I can’t take more of you
My receptors are bound by your molecules
Our relationship is a sigmoid curve
Your affinity to my nerve
An agonist, baby, is not what I need
To ween off this goddess dependency
I now just tolerate
I mean I just acclimate
But without you my heart palpitates
I am nauseous, I sweat, and I shake
An antagonist is what I seek
For I am far too weak
I mean without you I am nothing but lonely and depressed
In a dark alley needle obsessed

Luminous flame with its gossamer glow
orange hue reflects off thy pure marble
blue fractal veins, the calm river I trek
relish thy flesh planting lips on carpal

under thy luster thy hypnotic spell
an ephemeral release from daily hell

Garden of Eden, oh how do I feast
only if I could be thy true Adam
but I am an Adam for all sweet Eves
the serpent hissing to bite the apple

Coiled scales swaddling flesh, whispering
tongue in thy ear, toothsome words, promising

milk and honey.

Bell-hollow throat of
pomegranate aril sweetness. Toothsome
syrupy streaks ribboning down
pharynx and larynx, red-
burnished trachea and battered
lungs. Jugular pulse-point
metronome, Mendelssohn on windpipe
*****: andante maestoso moans
burbling 4/4 pharyngeal trills.
Writhing duet on the marital
dissection table. Composition on
the anatomy of love.

Fuzzy orb so small and sweet
      Plump succubus plucked by hand
      Orange pink and yellow treat
      To fulfill a hungers toothsome demand  
                          
Demeter's gift, O' how ripe
      Put the flesh between my teeth
      Ears delighted with phoebe's pipe
      Lounged lazily listening in edens wreath

Juice streaming down my face
       Junes comfort, worth more than gold
       Sleep coming to make its dreamy embrace
       Hammock sway, as I slowly cross the threshold

What a sin
What a grave sin
A fox in
A sheep’s skin
Echoing the mob’s
Democracy-peace-and –unity-
Packed wish
Enunciating bright days
They will soon relinquish,
He touched
In every credulous heart
A sensitive cord,
Cognizant, an all-out support
To him
They will accord.

True, he basked under
Taps on the back
To his expectation ten fold
And laudations untold.

Nothing toothsome he left
In the political rhetoric dish,
With colorful diplomacy
He adored
To garnish,
So he made many
Their speculation
To relinquish.

He also won the international
Community’s “go ahead!”
Abstaining from
Their customarily
“We are afraid!”
They declared
“He has no fault!”
Smirking behind his back
“Congra a Trojan horse
We have got
Who buys all what
We say
Without a grain of salt,”

To solve the paradox
The mob must unmask
And chase
The fox,
A jackal
In a green pasture
Is unorthodox.//

It's what you wanted,
right? A prime cut, cool
in the middle and hot
to the touch— toothsome
and tender, fresh from the
embers, a just-how-you-like-it bite.

Toothsome candy she drips,
Like syrup
Sticking fine
To thy heart....

The bereaved must sing to the passed,
must wail upon the deaf skies our frailty.

Given just moments upon this crust,
like toothsome bread to savor until swallowed,
we must praise the baker his craft.

There is not a noise we make
more truthful than the chewing,
the soft crumb yielding to the jaw.

Put an ear to the loaf to hear
the children's song of the womb
in faint wisps of steam and contraction.

Yes, the bereaved must sing,
must wail upon the crust and the crumb,
must howl upon each sawn slice,
must sob, perhaps stoic and silent,
upon the torn, chewed and swallowed frailty.

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                        Cry "Havoc!" and Let Slip the Dogs of Joe!

That’s it. I’m not visiting the White House
Presidential dogs that bite are just too much
(If only Joe kept rabbits, or even a mouse)
I fear they’d find me toothsome to their touch

I wish I could attend a poetry reading
Or see Marine One land on the White House lawn
But I don’t want to be the lunch the dogs are eating
Or their contains-real-meat dog chewy-bone

I’m not visiting the White House, okay?
(And I haven’t been invited anyway)