she set a polish to the brass pipes
with a careful hand she worried them
hours like a silent moving contemplation
she worked her way from one end of
the massive machine to the other
knowing every rivet
every dent and scratch
the hot steam leaving a sheen of sweat on her
the machines labored breathing filled her ears
alive to her she spoke to it
in a loving soft whisper
she felt the gauges and levers
with the familiarity of mother and child
knew its every creak and groan
with the heart of unconditional loving care
a steam engine is a living thing
a breathing feeling entity
a life of brass for bone
coal fire for a heart
powerful
deep
living
it loved her as much as she loved it
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 11:03 PM UTC
.
rusted tin can by the busted body
Of what was once a man
//
What have we done to ourselves ?
•
The hidden truths
Behind
Our plea to be seen as a human being
Who loves
//
Sad the song that lingers
The death that has arrived
The pain we invited in
And glorified
/::/
The pages of our poetry
Scattered in the wind
That end up
**** stained
In corpse strewn alleyways
( our lovers ! )
••
Write on Poets of Love !
Write on !
Till the last of you is gone
& in the Silence
We might find Peace
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 12:48 PM UTC
When the lights cut out
and the air feels thin,
your lips are pressed to mine
I can barely breathe.
The clock ticks slowly,
your scent makes me dizzy.
"No one has to know," you whisper
I only moan in agreement.
Your hands travel down my spine;
calloused, rough --
there I know that, even in the dim light,
your eyes, dark and sharp, still look up to mine.
My lips move to your jaw,
palms wet, running down your chest with cold sweat;
a nervous glance to the door:
"Don't worry, no one will come."
You pull my hair lightly;
your touch is soft, yet careless.
I treat you as if you were the finest porcelain
when, to you, am I nothing but shattered glass --
--you just keep insisting to step on.
I moan aloud;
you desperately cover my mouth.
My voice hushes, "I'm sorry",
but my flesh screams for more.
Our clothes lay thrown across the floor
and I watch them, stoic, waiting
while you leave your last marks
upon my neck.
Now it's 3 in the morning, I'm laying by your side
With a sigh, I stand up and change my mind---
quietly shutting the door,
kissing you goodnight.
It's not right; I refuse to hide
upstairs, on your shelves,
just like the books
you have never finished to read.
Walking home, all alone
I tell myself to forgive,
forget,
and forbid.
Because I would rather
gather dust on the box of our past,
than on your shelf, waiting
on our future.
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 12:54 PM UTC
present
for you, i’d remain standing
long after the trees sat down to rest
and the sun had done its best to make you smile
past
i realize your presence was heavy upon me
for years, damning praise and sharp silence
like tags poking out from brand-new clothing, reminding me
to cover you up
and worn, fraying threads betraying the fact
that my feelings for you were long past their due date
and i should just throw them away
present
i never threw them away, i just recycled them
somehow knowing that one day
i would find a use for this feeling, a cause worth standing for
and a body that stood in the same crooked way
you are not the same, you are better
than any face i used to hate, or any voice
that used to grate upon my tired mind
love turned to hate
and now the cycle repeats itself again
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 11:44 PM UTC
forever bound by
mutual Love
inextricably wounded
by mutual pain
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 10:28 AM UTC
****** all the boys
in the army
win
war is over
still a lesbian
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
Someone asked me the other day
"Do you like her?"
I thought for a second and smiled,
"Yes, yes I do."
"God, you're such a lesbian!"
I smiled and replied with,
"I know."
And kept on walking.
Later in the day
People were staring at me
And
Calling me names.
I held my head up
High
And smiled.
Nobody will stand in my way.
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
heart wants
people need
good man
body beautiful
hands place
dark skin
girl tears
broken feelings
past dream
dead touch
turn morning
**** thinking
sorry talk
turned lives
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 10:14 PM UTC