i.

Mine Dame
Unfasten mine cream pigment barong;
Scuff the tiny button's, serenadeth me with Tagalog.

ii.

None need for baon
Where we shalt go is not strained by materialism;
This is not a place of Balaam.

iii.

Mother-naked, ourn quiddity's latched
None leviathan demonic's, no human electronic's;
Mine darling, hug closely, none murrain pain's to be hatched.

iv.

Mine foremost, drinketh with me
Amour's Buko juice as a toast;
A barkada of high-up angelic's to guide ourn ghost's.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication/Filipino rose

open the door
a man stands there with a smile
the package he passes
is not on my Christmas list
that doorway sure is no chimney.

shaking, frightened, it's finally time
alone, i unfasten the bag,
as if it's the first brithday
that my grandma is no longer with us.

this was the most expensive present
i have ever received
although the grantor is no ******* Santa Claus
&
that instant i recognize
my existence
lies in these jars.

i outwitted mother nature
if i begin consumption
i live

if not well.....*How Will It End?

I want to cut you up in little pieces
And scatter you amongst the sky
So you will be reflected in every pool of light
And shimmer like a halo around every face

I want to distill your very nature
Wear it like a perfume on my skin
Letting it permeate my every pore
Seeping
Inside
Me
To my very core

I want to reach inside your chest
To unfasten your heart
And swallow it whole
So it will beat forever in tandem next to mine
Each beat imparting
Every word
You could never say aloud
Love
Want
Need
Mine
Please
Please


Your eyes are by far my favorite
Two sparkling jewels
Hidden like a holy secret
Underneath your veil of lashes
One look and you
Undo me,
Unravel me,
Undress me
Again, again.

Behind my lips
I keep your kiss
My smile suggesting a clandestine wish
Only you possess the key
To unlock me
Turn it slowly
So I may relish the twist of my womb
And the fire that travels up my spine
To light my eyes
So that you will know
What you
Must
Do.

I want to cut you up in little pieces
And scatter you amongst the sky.

when the lace
from my shirt
fell away,
you helped me
tie it back
together,
even though i know
you'd love to love me
uncovered

i knew,
you cradled
the scars
the sunlight
gave me,
you kissed
between my ribs
where the swollen
skin lay tender,
you would have
stitched them up
if you knew how

i remember
the ultrasound
my fingers took
of your heart,
i could see it
beating
red and angry
in your chest,
trying to
unfasten the ties
that held it inside

my palms
were hot, but
they healed you
my scabbed knuckles
brushed over your eyes
and you settled
into me like a gasp,
slowly but alive

sweetheart,
i would
end the earth
in one swift movement
if i could watch
the asteroids fall
in your eyes

Tonight the softness of the air
touches my skin gently.
Like once your fingertips did.
The air blooms
with moonlight and Jasmine.
A breeze touches the flowers
one by one
Roses Dahlias Carnations
night stock and Gardenia.
Ahh Gardenia your favorite.

I close my eyes
in my mind my senses
bring you here to me.
You are wearing the gown
that once we were married in.
Your lips so red
and eyes so inviting.

I touch you long flowing hair
I can feel the softness of you
even in my mind.
You reach up and
unfasten the ribbons
that hold it.

it flows like a storm
over my bare chest.
Outside I can hear
the ****** of your laughter
like a sweet night song.

But it is only the
windchimes
that you loved.
bringing me back
to the empty heart
That only you could fill.

(Readers I been going crazy to write  like this for a long time so if it suxs  too bad lol please read its a bit long also 4 those who do ty for reading & commenting)
________________­_______________
She seen his stares since earlier in the ball room & during most of their acquaintance's growing up also when he'd visited her family at her home in Hampshire... She bluntly ignored his many advances while
at the Queen's Ball and she also publicly shunned him in front of  many aristocrats, He asked her even then to be his wife, She flat out said NO! with out going through the proper channels it  "*******" just wasn't done,  Her chaperon Lady Gideon was no where to be found so she did what she thought was best and walked away from him as fast as her small frame would allow.  

She did indeed find Lady Gideon in the kitchens with  the cook in the "Blimey!" broom closet. NOW on this night she'd truly become his and pay for her misdeeds & mistreatment's of him at The Queen's Ball...Duke Lincoln Pierre held his new bride Virgina Abagael Pierre  
tightly as he assaulted her mouth thrusting his tongue in her mouth- parting her lips in a seductive dance, as his hands moved lavishly up & down her buttocks, betwixt her bodice caressing her breast.

Lincoln tried hard to control his need for his new bride,  He was supposed  to be with his "mates" for another hour or so whilst his-  " well now" his wife's maids readied her for their marriage bed.
Lincoln couldn't wait & as he rushed his guest out the door not even
waiting for Jefferey his Butler to do so, He ran taking the steps two at a time, His need for Virgina was more then lust.  He wanted her ever since she shunned him at the Queens ball & as he visited her home--  watching her bloom into womanhood, Tonight she'd pay for his humiliations of that night at the Ball. He burst open the door and bellowed  for the maids to Get OUT!

At once they went running like rats. All except Beatrix stood her
ground and told him in not to kind-of words that  "She" had to prepare Virgina properly and He was acting reckless.
Beatrix  was his nanny & nursery maid, she was  also there when he first open his sparkling  hazel round eyes, God rest "Duckies" soul, His mum, she died in this same bed whilst she gave her last breath for this handsome devil.  His Da,  poor man was getting on in age and this was a wish he left in his will to be fulfilled before he died. "Lin" as she'd called him must fulfill but without scaring the poor chit off.

She unfasten Virgina's stays & hooks as fast as her old hands would allow, before she could help her out of her bodice  "Lin" ushered her out....Well she'd said her peace and exit Lincoln's rooms praying as she left.....
Lincoln kept  up his assault  while Virgina had a look of fear & misunderstanding in her mahogany sapphire eyes, Her small frame was shaking to her very core,  Poor chit but it couldn't be helped he was in a rush to be done with virgins and their silly concepts of love ex specially this "his" new prudent bride,  Yet he wanted to make her come alive, bring out the "bleed'in devil" of lust he knew was trapped deep within Virgina's un tapped core.
Lincoln teased and licked as he removed her clothing, ripping a bit of fabric in is haste, she kissed him back! Shocking his own sense of sensibility.

He picked her up splayed her on the bed and stared at her dark luscious Honey chocolate  creamy coco skin, it shined like a lovely indigo ocean on a summers night.
With carious longing and dread,
it was still an interesting moment Virgina didn't know what to do and as he capture her waist she felt  even more unsure, sensing a thrilling sensation wash over her,  Her new husband Duke Lincoln Pierre kissed her with un-abandon lust Virgina instinctively crawled up to the head board on the bed, as she did so her new husband reached for her in a blink of an eye she was caught in his steel grip, she cried out not for pain but because she had no ideal what he meant to do with her,

Lincoln laughed and made a tsk tsk sound as he pulled himself atop of Virgina.  "My Lady I beseech you please leave off I mean you no harm''
Lincoln proclaimed yet his meek smile said he was lying,
Virgina only stared with her mouth gaped in a perfect lush O shape.  
Her husband undone he own clothes  in a heated rush.  
Once done he stalked towards her kneeling on the bed.  
With Virgina's gaze fixed tranquilly on his stiff shaft, she looked at it apprehensively  she wanted to move away yet her limbs wouldn't allow her to and with banned tears threatening to over flow
she ****** in her breath as her capture Duke Pierre her husband climb a top of her.  

Little did her husband know she'd wanted  him all her life she longed to become his bride but she had no ideal it entailed this rough treatment of her person to gain access.
She'd sit with her own nanny "Liv" short for Olivia  
at Hyde Park watching as his carriage made it's rounds.  She dreamed even then to marry him, his eyes always laughing and He was forever teasing her when He'd visited  her "now" deceased parents lord Duke&Duchess; Harrisburg. She'd dream he were always saving her from dragons and evil villains.

But tonight he seemed the Villain.
As he touched creatively over her she felt flushed, his hands trailed down to her hairline where her tulip was hidden as he proceeded to caress her he felt for her budded rosebud playing teasing  rubbing his fingers with gentleness over her.
He continued until Virgina's head was thrashing wildly left & right on the pillow she was scared and shocked not knowing what was coming over her,  she wanted something--   this need that was growing  building within her, she didn't understand and it made her feel weak with a longing she couldn't comprehend, as he removed his finger & hand a light yet cool breeze cam through the cracked window causing the sensation to slowly subside Lincoln moved down trailing kisses as he went his mouth hovered mere inches above her tight yearning rosebud he bet down and tasted honey as he licked in an out of his new bride, sliding his index finger within her tight silt wile wrapping his mouth around her budding rose, he ******, gently  causing Virgina automatically to lift her legs wrapping her hands in his golden brown hair.

He felt her throbbing shaking and he wanted to laugh because of him she now new what it meant to be pleasured,  Virgina began trembling with a urgency not knowing what her body wanted just that she liked this feeling that washed over her from her toes up to her Honey dark coco head.  Her long brown auburn hair fell in waves of curls around her as she melted to her husbands ministrations.

Lincoln could barely contain his want and in his eyes His new bride was a wanton ready for plucking like a ripe strawberry, His little filly was bucking beneath his demonstration's.
He'd played with the God's wile tempting the devil & now there was Hell to pay...  Sadly for his new ****** bride he could no longer hold back, he wanted to consume her, his control was failing, wreaking havoc on his now intoxicating senses.  

Virgina bucked up towards his mouth letting out a seductive cry breaking Lincoln's last restraints  
He spread her wide held her fast
both his hand on either side of her hips as he lead his shaft within her lustrous wet inviting opening, moving in her swiftly as to not cause any more unnecessary pain,
He felt her maiden-head give way but it was to late t pause, he try not to move slow,
which with half in sympathy he wanted to stop his penetrating ****** yet his need for release in his new ****** brides velvet tight silt kept him urging forward deeper&deeper; within her tight walls.

Virgina let out a piercing scream as she also called out Lincoln's name twas an interesting moment when a fierce jolt consumed both occupants of this lovers den, she cried out as he ******'ed deeper still within his new bride....

No longer did he want to  punish her he felt something chip away at his heart releasing a need to want more then her body as they coiled becoming meshed together in legs & limbs traveling on waves of ******* bliss.
Duke & Duchess Pierre

Always Me Ayeshah

"Linda this is your victim so you have to inflict the first wound" said Rusty.  Responding to Rusty's words Linda picked up the nail gun.  "Linda you don't have to do this" pleaded the man.  "I have kids that I provide for.  My name is Timothy Yates.  I have a wife" said Timothy.
Linda silenced Timothy with a swift kick to
his testicles.  "Look Rusty it actually think we care about it's pathetic little life" said Linda.  Placing the muzzle of the nail gun on Timothy's foot Linda pulled the trigger.  Firing a hard sharp nail into Timothy's foot blood squirted into the air.
"AAAARRRGGGHHH LINDA PLEASE STOP!" screamed Timothy.  Timothy's screams and begging for his life only made Linda even more hornier and excited.   Linda walked over to Rusty and kissed him on the mouth and slipped her tongue in his mouth.
"Its your turn baby" said Linda.  Linda gave the nail gun to Rusty then stepped back and shoved her hands in her pants.  Walking over to Timothy, Rusty began to beat Timothy in the face with the nail gun.
The more Rusty beat Timothy in the face with the nail gun the harder Linda masturbated.
Placing the nail gun back on the push cart Rusty grabbed the jar filled with acid.
"Timothy you're in a world of hurt" said Rusty.  Pouring some acid slowly on Timothy's other foot Rusty smiled as the smell of burning flesh crept into his nostrils.
"AAAARRGGHHH MR. LOCKLEAR PLEASE DON'T **** ME SIR. I BEG YOU PLEASE DON'T **** ME" screamed Timothy.  Looking back at Linda, Rusty was thrilled to see Linda getting off on her victim's agony.
High on the smell of burning flesh Rusty floated over to Linda.  Pulling Linda's hand out of her pants Rusty ****** and licked her juices off her fingers.  "How do I taste?" asked Linda.  "As sweet as honey.  It's your turn again" said Rusty.
Grabbing the scalpel off the push cart Linda slashed Timothy's left thigh.  Like water from a water hose blood sprayed through the air.  "W,W,WWhy are the two of you doing this to me?" asked Timothy.  "Because it's fun Timothy and people like you make me sick" said Linda.
Walking over to Linda, Rusty took the scalpel out of Linda's hand and cut Timothy' s throat.  Seeing Rusty take another man's life made Linda ***** all over again.  "You have to find the next victim" said Linda as she turned toward her husband.  
"I already got one picked out.  She's a pill popping ****** *****" said Rusty.  Getting down on her knees Linda unfasten Rusty's pants.  She pulled out out his ***** ***** and placed it in her mouth.  She ****** and ****** for what felt like an hour.  Filling her mouth with ***** Linda happily swallowed the huge load.
"C'mon it's time to get rid of the body" said Rusty.  Rusty could hardly get the words out of his mouth cause he just finished an ******.  "Linda baby go get the chainsaw.  We have to get rid the body" said Rusty.  
Rusty began to unshackle Timothy's lifeless body.  Walking back into the darkness Linda brought back the chainsaw.  Timothy's body hit the floor making a loud thud.
Rusty cranked up the chainsaw and dismantled Timothy's body.  Linda ran back up stairs and brought large black trash bags back down to Rusty.  "I'll get rid of these body parts.  You stay here and clean up" said Rusty.  
"Ok" replied Linda.  Rusty went and put the trash bags with Timothy's remains onto the back of his black Ram truck.  Rusty drove throughout the city of Green Haven and dumped Timothy's body parts in dumpsters on the north side, east side, west side, and south side, of Green Haven.
When Rusty returned home the smell of bleach, Pine Sol, and other cleaning products greeted him at the door.  "Linda I'm back" yelled Rusty as he walked through the front door.  "Come down to the basement Rusty.  Well this was the best Sunday I ever had" yelled Linda from the basement.
The next morning the rays of the sun came peeking in through the bedroom window of Rusty and Linda Locklear.

Written by Keith Edward Baucum

“Unbind
Unclasp
Uncover
Uncurl
Unfurl
Undo
Unfasten
Unfold
Unhing­e
Unhook
Unleash
Unlink
Unmask
Unroll
Unveil
Unclip
Unlace
Unzip
­Untie
Unbutton
Unlock”

“Undress.”
“Understood.”

Unravel

The fragrance of the pink lotus
fails, the jade mat hints of autumn.
Softly I unfasten my silk cloak,
Who is sending a letter from
among the clouds?
When the swan message returns,
the balcony is flooded with moonlight.

The blossoms drift on, the water flows.
There is the same yearning of the heart,
But it abides in two places.
There is no way to drive away this yearning:
Driven from the eyebrows,
It enters the heart.

clean lines cut shiny wet skin

cold menacing eel eyes meet
a jellybean nose child's sticky fingers,
calculating; deriving the smoothest way
to unfasten Oshkosh suspenders
in a sun-drenched park, with fierce
protectors, and the wrath of an angry God,
one that judges perverse men and protects
innocent children,
but God must be on vacation;
too quickly, aplomb aplenty,
he slithers past the slide where
a trio of blond ringlet drenched heads tantalize
when the boys hop and jump
their curls excitedly bob, mimicking the children's movements.
the man, he waits, tucked
in a leafy green pardah, a veil.
the sun crawls into the clouds;
thunder bellows in the distance,
and like a mercy, a tiny raindrop
hits his eyes, which he has closed
in respect of this jubilant miracle.
the mothers grab their own sticky handed babies
and run for drier places
and safer
though they only heed the rain
and not the man peering from the soaking foliage

flash of lightening.
darkness.
a scream.
silence.

Google defines detach as--
"disengage (something or part of something)
and remove it."
But Google could never tell me
how to detach myself
from the feelings that
consume me
and swallow me whole.

I'm not being irrational.
I'm not blowing things out of proportion.
I'm not overreacting.
I'm not being dramatic.
I'm not being hypersensitive.

Before pointing your fingers at me,
I want you to look at yourself.
Do you have empathy?
Do you realize these bad things can happen?
You may not say the words you speak
with the intent to hurt
but that is exactly what you're doing.

Stop ******* dancing around the problem,
like it's this fun thing to do.
Violation.
Tears shed.
Screams.
Hands on a body that isn't theirs.
Pain.
Blame where it doesn't belong.

This is reality
and you have no right
to decide how this story goes.
I ask you to step back
and think about the ways
in which you are impacting others.

If I can't detach myself,
neither can you.
******* talk.
Say words that mean something.
Speak the truth.
This is painful.
I refuse to let you pretend
as if it's not.

This is all I think about.
Unfasten, disconnect, separate, remove.
Pull off, free, disengage, loosen.
I wish I could.
I really do.
But there's nothing that can make this
go away.

I feel the walls closing in.
My breaths are shorter.
Tears.
I want to escape
but you can't escape
your own feelings,
your own pain.

It must be nice to
de
tach.
How lucky
you are.

I remember now,
Trying not to fall in love,
Fighting the emotional pull.
Just one of the best feelings ever,
It teases, taunts, torments, and plays,
With alluring, delightful sweetness.
Especially during the early hours,
Though not in a bad way, never that,
But in a self-serving pleasing way.
Having one latch onto certain tunes,
Replay those pleasurable moments,
Unfasten the catch releasing desire,
Indulging in salacious imagery,
Until eventually, we are grounded,
Or, we manage to escape, floating free.
Either way, the secret inner-resistance,
Is lovely to behold, making one smile,
Laugh unexpectedly, or consider deeply,
All within the space of a few heartbeats.
One becomes wholly consumed, yes,
Heart all~a~flutter, nerves jangling.
The telephone rings, bated breath,
Dry-mouth, such clammy hands,
A faint cracked whisper, ‘Hello?’
Only to be, just someone else.
The anticipation now running riot,
Unknowns spinning beyond control,
Imagination hot and fevered,
Created scenarios rise and fall,
Rise again, twist into, ‘what if?’
Before dissipating into hazy dreams.
And we know, yes, deep inside,
Once beyond the very early stages,
The truth is clear, should have seen,
Resistance is, quite useless, when,
Trying not to fall in love,
I remember now.

Paint me naked with your pen.
Write me naked with your quill.
See me naked in your mind.
Open your eyes wide.
Rip my cloak from my shoulders.
Unbutton my crisp white linen blouse.
Open it wide.
Peel it back.
I'll turn around.
You may unfasten my fresh white bra.
I feel fresh too.
Remove my breast restraint.
Let it fall to the floor.
Run your fingers down my spine.
It's wholly sensitive.
Undo my jeans.
Gently slip them over my form.
Cautiously lay me on your bed.
We kiss with fire.
My ****** are black.
They're French in style
Now you see me near naked.
And then que sera sera!
(C) Livvi

It seemed so much as no new and uncommon thing
   that what passes on as only a disappearance,
   is but a temporary postponement of something
   long withheld in feelingfulness, in treason of one’s
  desire or simply, a hand which is there, or kept in a pocket
   scouring for loose change, a hand which, somewhere,
    is known in accurate proprioception: refusing to be held;

  I swim against the current not
     for the water behind your river
     that dreams of fish

   I wake not underneath the bowl
      of moon slated by sensorial howl,
     whose wounds are white like
      a face once held in between palms

  and sleep almost endlessly, together
    with everything that twitches, slewing
  to avoid collision, alliterates to blur meaning,
     sways fervently to addle meeting

until we let loose a sigh, and unfasten ourselves,
   dropping pace and both our eyes meet.

Grandad did keep a pig and chickens also a monkey which was either sat on his shoulder or up on the clothes rack which was set high up in the kitchen..sometimes we would unfasten the rope that tied the rack, and did that monkey chatter as it fell towards the kitchen table..happy days.

My Grandad kept in the back garden ,a big fat rosy coloured pig.
Not the one that did a jig
but another
which was certainly a smelly thing.
Granpa would bring it bits and bobs and the pig would grunt in its approval
until the day came for the pig's removal.
It ended up in 16 dinner bowls and on one big serving plate.
I have to say pig tasted great with apple sauce
But of course
I miss him all the same.

sometimes i decide to be brave
but in doing so, i put on a set of armor that covers this delicate body
no one can hurt me this way
no sword can pierce my skin
no word can break my bones  
nothing at all will harm me

but . . .
what if . . .

one day i decided to be brave
and take off this metal illusion of safety
because there are times when bravery means being able to feel
even the pain
some days, it isn't holding yourself together, but shedding tears that takes the most courage
as i unfasten my breastplate and drop my shield
i think to myself
this is living:
not shielding yourself from feeling
this is healing
only by allowing yourself to break

Your eyes
unbutton every button
unzip every zipper
unfasten every clasp
and tear through my soul
like a ravaging bull
hungry for a meal.

I'm sorry,
but I'm not meant to be
devoured...

Briskly moving through brisk weather
Death under each step I take.
Time is up now, minds are turning
Fear and freeze about to break.

Polyester coverings buttoned tightly around her
Similar to feelings unable to unfasten.
Bound around her neck and made of fur,
Slide it off in a fit of passion.

Building up slowly during late autumn months,
Sadness and anxiety and desire.
Desire.
Desire.

Craving, itching, lusting for more;
Locked in an apartment and confined.
Books are my company and in them I explore
All of the worlds that have made my mind blind.

The girl with polyester coverings,
Hang up your coat.
It is time for a rediscovering
Of your very first note.

When I was walking, my life dropped out of my pocket. It fell and it shattered. Pieces were scattered all over the ground, so I took a long while to find every one. When I’d thought I’d found every last one, I looked again, and again. I went to the store and I bought some glue. As I was gluing, a sharp piece of my life cut my little finger. My finger cried and it cried and my life cried with it, and the glue, once white, turned red.

I continued to glue, and eventually, I glued my life’s pieces into a ball. I looked it all over and then I discovered, I had forgotten a small shard on the table; where could it go?  I have used all the spaces, and I like what my life has become. I held my life in one hand and held the shard in the other. I could not take my life apart again, unless I want to start over. So, with the small shard, I closed my hand, and threw it over my shoulder. ‘There, now it’s gone and I don’t have to worry.’ I thought.

I put my new life back in my pocket, and went on walking. I saw a nice man on the street across from mine and smiled. He smiled back and so we crossed paths and we talked and we laughed and we walked together. I started to think about how close we’d become, and how happy I was, and I decided that it was time. Out of my pocket I pulled, my mended red life. He smiled and told me ‘It’s lovely.’
He then pulled out his, which was ragged and worn. I lied, I said ‘I like it’ although I did not. We tried to hug, but we just didn't fit. Our lives kept getting in the way. He got angry and snatched them both up and threw them down on the ground. Once again, my life was shattered.

I picked every piece up and I cried big, wet tears, which dropped on the shards of my life. The wet pieces clung to the dirt, as they lay, and became smudged and filthy. It was hard to tell which were mine, but the ones I thought were his, I picked out and threw them far away. I pulled out my glue, and started again. When I was finished putting all the ***** pieces in place and I looked at the relics of my life; Sad, broken, mismatched and in peril.
I took my poor life, and I put it in a small box; it was dark, and it was tight on my life. People could not hurt it. People could not see it. I could not see it.

When I was out walking with my life, hidden away in it's box, I saw a nice girl. She smiled at me, and I smiled back and paused. ‘No, this won’t happen again.’ But the girl approached me, and she told me she liked me. I couldn't help but reciprocate; she was beautiful and sweet and I loved her. She pulled out her life and I turned away. ‘You don’t like it’ she said. Her eyes filled with tears and she began to sob. ‘No, I really do, please don’t cry’ I told her. ‘Mine has been broken so many times, I hid it away’. I pulled out the box and tried to unfasten it, but it would not open. I pulled and I pried but the box wouldn't budge. I became angry and I threw the box at the ground. The girl walked towards it and picked up the box full of my shattered life. She gently lifted the latch and looked inside at the shards. She smiled. She put her life inside with mine, and put the latch back down, and she dropped it. ‘What are you doing?!’ I asked, confused and disturbed.

‘I'm mixing our lives, and when we got home, we’ll mend our life together.’

I carefully stitched your name
embroidered each memory,
each beautiful piece of art
into the delicate walls
of my beating heart.
I put aside the threat of pain,
the tearing apart,
the risk of scars that would remain,
in the hope that I would never
have to
unpick, unfasten,
you, again.

How I was wrong.
And the unstitching never gets easier
and the short sharp scratch
Each time, you work your way back
Hurts just as much as the last.

Unfasten every safely tight insecurity and crash into a wall of failure, to disguise that you're really not happy.  Delusional glass shattered into ****** open skin a flooded mess of blood and confessional drama queens sin.  Prepared daily to support our difficult decisions with karma tasted burdens.  You're magazine religion makes me sick with all your false information.  

And the papers say you committed ****** once again, addressing that you're accident from behind the fire.  Let someone else take the blame of a narcisstic evocation, so you can continue this game.  While they're all in the hospital defining they're face like yours all the same.  So touch up that skin another ride is going to begin.

They usually come at night
When fighting the battle of sleep
I recall the window, green and purple blankets and sheets
I am a walking video tape
Broken VCR rewinds
Without being touched, my brain is the television on which it repeats

Classroom desk, The Color Purple, Letter one; repeat
2:00, surprised, they usually come nighttime
Video cassette jostled in its compartment, forcibly rewinding
No, please let me go to sleep
The thoughts take my limbs and bind
them to my sides, wishing for the refuge of sheets

How I want to burn those sheets
Maybe the tape would no longer repeat
Take the memories and unfasten
them from my mind. It was never at night
No sneaking into bedrooms, sleep
wasn’t any harder than usual, only rewinding
When we were home alone, rewinding
Inside those sheets
I wonder if he could still sleep
Does the repetition
Haunt him at night?
These memories belong in boxes sealed
in ***** basements like ****** up Christmas presents not meant to be opened, tightly wrapped
Red ribbon on the spool, rewound
like the film tucked away in a cellar without lights, dark as midnight
Upstairs, I am safe, a breeze from the open window blows sheets
of watercolor paper sprawled on the table with repeating
brush strokes. The chair next to the window is a fine place to take a nap.
Here, ill recordings do not interrupt my slumber
Bandage
I’ve read that victims will often put themselves in situations that repeat
the traumatic event. Time is the one thing I cannot rewind.
I sit in a room of strangers filling out sheets
about healthy coping mechanisms. I think of my hard-bedded room; on the wall there is a nightlight

But still. Some nights, it’s on repeat. The boxes open while I sleep.
Some nights my head is still a video tape
They creep up the stairs and into my sheets when I’m not looking. Like tiny spiders that know how to push the << button.

Take Me Back

Do you remember
when we were teens Darlin.
Call a strong sea wind
to blow away the foggy hazy years.
I see us now clearly it’s us my love.
We are lay beneath the oak tree in the park.
That summer day when school had finished.
We are drinking cheap wine
right from the green bottle.
I am rolling a joint.
We get high and a little drunk
I unfasten your shirt
you kiss me deeply.
Wow I can still feel your heat.
You tell me I am beautiful
I say beautiful is for women.
We had *** in the wild outdoors
even in the earshot of home.
We were not friends back then
only lovers if you call lust love.
Look at us now we are all grown up
Our three children asleep in their beds
The nice house and cars.
You with your conservative
dress for success suit
the complete modern mom.
I am sat reading gardens monthly.
Do you remember when it happened?
getting grown up like this.
God darling
I would give it all up
for one crazy day when we were young.
your bra and ******* on the floor next the bed.
The faint smell of our burning joint
in an ashtray next to the bed.
And us on it
like the two wild animals we once were

A sole preacher of the wilderness

To thus attest, the Lord’s word

Of numbers great, from lands afar

Would flock to him

To the river Jordan with baptizing

A righteous man, John the Baptist

Of whom would practice, righteous ways

To tell the people, flee from sin

To warn them of a coming king

A worthy man, much greater than him

Yet Pharisees and Sadducees could not appease

Nor make-believe, of apparent good

For turn away from solemn sin

Of God’s kingdom, enter in

Simply clad of camel’s hair, simple food, home of bare

From Nazareth, so Jesus came

To be baptized, God’s holy plan

Yet worthy not, to unfasten his shoes

Open heavens, spirit of God

A symbol of, the coming King



Written by Geraldine Taylor ©

South Shields memory time.
John Smallshaw
23 April 2013 at 09:01 · London ·


Grandad did keep a pig and chickens also a monkey
which was either sat on his shoulder
or up on the clothes rack
which was set high up in the kitchen,

sometimes we would unfasten the rope that tied the rack
and did that monkey chatter as it fell towards the kitchen table,

happy days.

My Grandad kept in the back garden ,
a big fat rosy coloured pig,
not the one that did a jig
but another
which was certainly a smelly thing.
Grandpa would bring it bits and bobs and
the pig would grunt in its approval
until the day came for the pig's removal.

It ended up in 16 dinner bowls and on one
big serving plate.
I have to say pig tasted great
with apple sauce
but of course
I miss him all the same.

MAN OF IRON

My fingertips
touch your dress

remembering
the first time ever

caressing your curves
...through it

your body covered
in its flowers

remembering
******* you

your dress
gently resting

strewn gracefully
across a chair

tame now
in the moonlight.

Once again
tenderly I

take it
(unfasten it)

fingers touching
its hem &

longingly
(lovingly)

...iron it.

*

Guess this is MAN OF IRON PT.2 IN 3-D!

*

A MAN'S WORK IS NEVER DONE!

Remember every
flounce & frill

of your white summer
frock

how enthralled I was
by how it fell

capturing the swell
of you in it's

...every motion...

the two of you
captivating my heart

only now realising
what a *****

of a dress
it is to iron!

Can anyone listen
                                bravely?
without predetermining hear?
Say
                          without saying?
Cheer,
                          Silently?
lighten
                              black
unfasten
                     themselves
rage
                         when calm
prevent
                      catastrophe?
Pause
                                like a DVD
Rewind
               destiny?
Promise
                             with certainty?
Love
        while listening?