emily-b - Hello Poetry

Mushrooms the size of my angered fists are growing outside of my house; As if there isn’t enough poison in your leaving alone! The rain that spawned them is a nervous sweat-- The world is afraid to tell me it lied. He gives no plea for forgiveness. Just flouting of my emotion, My ability to love. The taste of your kiss still warm on my lips-- I **** fungus from between the still wet grass There must be a bit of you in there! It comes as a surprise: the white-gray flesh won't kiss back! If I sink my teeth in— I suspect I’ll be poisoned, Where were my suspicions of you? I should have expected your worst, But you kissed me back, so I took advantage of that. Why not? Your lips tasted bitter, but good. What a terrible feeling! To Lose my sense of pride— Lose my sensibility. I conclude: If I love; I lose. I irrationally fear that they might cut down our trees-- Your poison takes all of my lovers from me They’ll tie neon green plastic bows around trunks And axe them down Until I bleed— Until the mushrooms leave.

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Jul 12, 2010

Jul 12, 2010 at 10:37 AM UTC

Replacing you with mushrooms

Mushrooms the size of my angered fists are growing outside of my house; As if there isn’t enough poison in your leaving alone! The rain that spawned them is a nervous sweat-- The world is afraid to tell me it lied. He gives no plea for forgiveness. Just flouting of my emotion, My ability to love. The taste of your kiss still warm on my lips-- I **** fungus from between the still wet grass There must be a bit of you in there! It comes as a surprise: the white-gray flesh won't kiss back! If I sink my teeth in— I suspect I’ll be poisoned, Where were my suspicions of you? I should have expected your worst, But you kissed me back, so I took advantage of that. Why not? Your lips tasted bitter, but good. What a terrible feeling! To Lose my sense of pride— Lose my sensibility. I conclude: If I love; I lose. I irrationally fear that they might cut down our trees-- Your poison takes all of my lovers from me They’ll tie neon green plastic bows around trunks And axe them down Until I bleed— Until the mushrooms leave.

27

come lay beside me in my bed- I'll trace a path from your ankles to head and in the morning warm my dear lift your head and hear the pucker of my pink lips by your ears You're my dream in reality the object of my sensuality palpitations in my ventricles heartbeats your fingertips control smooth inhalation of your soul appeals aching to learn how your body feels

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Jul 12, 2010

Jul 12, 2010 at 1:13 AM UTC

lust

come lay beside me in my bed- I'll trace a path from your ankles to head and in the morning warm my dear lift your head and hear the pucker of my pink lips by your ears You're my dream in reality the object of my sensuality palpitations in my ventricles heartbeats your fingertips control smooth inhalation of your soul appeals aching to learn how your body feels

11

Gabby Abrego I'll never let you go go unless we go to Mexico and you be come a hobo! Then I'll go. and fetch the so co. so we can dance to disco eat enchiladas with adobo pick the **** out of our Afros! We'll feel so funky, the people will get spunky when we arrive on donkeys, and ride around their towns! We'll befriend all the junkies and give them howler monkeys, it'll be so funny we'll laugh until you cry! Ohh! Gabby Abrego I'll never let you go go unless I get you prego then I'll run like mad! cuz if we had a baby I'd stop being lazy get as famous as THE LADY support you like Eminem did for his baby. So Never Ever leave me Or I'll succumb to Scientology and go even more crazy my world'd become a mystery. I'd rather be a rhino rather be tricked into a ***** rather be married to Bono in a movie starring J.Lo be forced to live with Yoko Ono have red eyes like an albino than to ever be with out Gabby Abrego!!!

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Jul 12, 2010

Jul 12, 2010 at 1:01 AM UTC

A silly poem for my best friend, Gabby.

Gabby Abrego I'll never let you go go unless we go to Mexico and you be come a hobo! Then I'll go. and fetch the so co. so we can dance to disco eat enchiladas with adobo pick the **** out of our Afros! We'll feel so funky, the people will get spunky when we arrive on donkeys, and ride around their towns! We'll befriend all the junkies and give them howler monkeys, it'll be so funny we'll laugh until you cry! Ohh! Gabby Abrego I'll never let you go go unless I get you prego then I'll run like mad! cuz if we had a baby I'd stop being lazy get as famous as THE LADY support you like Eminem did for his baby. So Never Ever leave me Or I'll succumb to Scientology and go even more crazy my world'd become a mystery. I'd rather be a rhino rather be tricked into a ***** rather be married to Bono in a movie starring J.Lo be forced to live with Yoko Ono have red eyes like an albino than to ever be with out Gabby Abrego!!!

36

The flooding puddles of your eyes reflect nothing but the skies and trees with leaves as dead as skin on elbows in winter. Your two-toned heart won't separate the simple verbs to conjugate from be to am to are to is-- the peeling of our action. I'll wait for sunlight, blue skies, and stars I can wait for spring! Wait for your words to mean what a dictionary describes. Grey does nothing for your eyes. They still twinkle with delight soggy grass and slippery walks like soggy emotions in your slippery thoughts. You're winter now. I'm spring. You're dead--I'm thriving. your plea for surviving, what hope! What loss! What cost! God shouldn't have trusted you with that smile. Your rat-like grim untrustworthy guile. That duplicitous manner in which you speak Oh how you out shine your *** Your failed promises, attempts to leave me. to please me. Oh! How you leave me pleased! Your tokens broken, torn and stored In wires above my bed slip visions of you in my dreams. A morning sight, such sweet delightful beginnings to long dragging days. Even through your thunder storm Your vexation brings me joy.

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Jun 28, 2010

Jun 28, 2010 at 5:57 PM UTC

thunderous

The flooding puddles of your eyes reflect nothing but the skies and trees with leaves as dead as skin on elbows in winter. Your two-toned heart won't separate the simple verbs to conjugate from be to am to are to is-- the peeling of our action. I'll wait for sunlight, blue skies, and stars I can wait for spring! Wait for your words to mean what a dictionary describes. Grey does nothing for your eyes. They still twinkle with delight soggy grass and slippery walks like soggy emotions in your slippery thoughts. You're winter now. I'm spring. You're dead--I'm thriving. your plea for surviving, what hope! What loss! What cost! God shouldn't have trusted you with that smile. Your rat-like grim untrustworthy guile. That duplicitous manner in which you speak Oh how you out shine your *** Your failed promises, attempts to leave me. to please me. Oh! How you leave me pleased! Your tokens broken, torn and stored In wires above my bed slip visions of you in my dreams. A morning sight, such sweet delightful beginnings to long dragging days. Even through your thunder storm Your vexation brings me joy.

35

Even alone in our graves, we're surrounded by bodies memories seep through dirt like groundwater. a marble quilt stretched across our eventual bed what a dream we'll find death! deja vu on repeat in our heads: ticking clocks still clack after their battery heartattacks just reverb in your eardrums as real as phantom pains or the shame you feel when they state all your claims in my court of appeals. if we breathe, we receive the past's blessing we crave-- desire. demand: hungry open palms of our hands. So I stroll their napping grass blankets my minuet appreciation for the invitation to your bed but my dreams are still too foggy for my heart to be dead.

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Jun 28, 2010

Jun 28, 2010 at 5:29 PM UTC

grave nap

Even alone in our graves, we're surrounded by bodies memories seep through dirt like groundwater. a marble quilt stretched across our eventual bed what a dream we'll find death! deja vu on repeat in our heads: ticking clocks still clack after their battery heartattacks just reverb in your eardrums as real as phantom pains or the shame you feel when they state all your claims in my court of appeals. if we breathe, we receive the past's blessing we crave-- desire. demand: hungry open palms of our hands. So I stroll their napping grass blankets my minuet appreciation for the invitation to your bed but my dreams are still too foggy for my heart to be dead.

23

clouds are water and air and light cumulus floats puffy smoke in the sky and the spaces between are bluer than her eyes. But I am mesmerized-- their ability to float, carefree and flawed their billows explode. pure and unique their moments are fleeting while they cycle through I keep repeating my woes and my wonders my carbon and water I'm looking up while they're looking over. when I die I'll be white-- powder keg in the sky cling as thick to the air as I do to her smiles. I'll filter the rain for the people below instead of pouring my tears on her head alone. I'd rather be a cloud than this mass I've become rather be weightless and die with the sun, rather see oceans and rivers and seas than drown in my wishes of floating in breeze.

0

Jun 28, 2010

Jun 28, 2010 at 5:29 PM UTC

Cloud

clouds are water and air and light cumulus floats puffy smoke in the sky and the spaces between are bluer than her eyes. But I am mesmerized-- their ability to float, carefree and flawed their billows explode. pure and unique their moments are fleeting while they cycle through I keep repeating my woes and my wonders my carbon and water I'm looking up while they're looking over. when I die I'll be white-- powder keg in the sky cling as thick to the air as I do to her smiles. I'll filter the rain for the people below instead of pouring my tears on her head alone. I'd rather be a cloud than this mass I've become rather be weightless and die with the sun, rather see oceans and rivers and seas than drown in my wishes of floating in breeze.

28

Zero is not an absolute. I have seen worlds open inside her circular form-- the expansion and contraction of edges, curved longings curbed: suppressed then exposed-- everything we've wished for in our beds. Zero has infinite chance-- ringed and rung out-- sung and restrung her points connected positive and negative glued and preserved presorted for our convenience. There is nothing convenient in the sputter of our silences we spit and bite, tender nothing solicitous starvation. Our sympathetic matter of course. Zero is not nothing. She's bigger than comprehension-- compensation and competition Zero teaches us: What alone could be If we alone, weren't one.

0

Jan 23, 2010

Jan 23, 2010 at 6:03 PM UTC

0

Zero is not an absolute. I have seen worlds open inside her circular form-- the expansion and contraction of edges, curved longings curbed: suppressed then exposed-- everything we've wished for in our beds. Zero has infinite chance-- ringed and rung out-- sung and restrung her points connected positive and negative glued and preserved presorted for our convenience. There is nothing convenient in the sputter of our silences we spit and bite, tender nothing solicitous starvation. Our sympathetic matter of course. Zero is not nothing. She's bigger than comprehension-- compensation and competition Zero teaches us: What alone could be If we alone, weren't one.

20

Her skin clings but won't bark-chip and I am stuck pondering the contradictions of lust-- confusions and revisions of the same desperate line But-- I loved you, I loved you, I love you never sounded right. I have a fervent untrimmed wick. When I flicker: I slip-- unless I forget and dial tonight. I will not call. But her eyes closed tightly when she kissed me-- I watched as her eyelashes fluttered and fell on my cheeks-- I will cry your wishes away. I will try to forget we existed. I will twist and thrash unleashed and unabashed I will make a loud noise. I will scream in my sleep when the moment to choose confronts me. Then, Why when our fingertips itched were our tangles strewn out in obsessive neat lines-- my lust and the pain in her taking. my desperate ache for her lip. for the smell she occupied and wore like the smell of mold on trees I cannot change the way she bleeds.

0

Jan 23, 2010

Jan 23, 2010 at 5:59 PM UTC

cannot change

Her skin clings but won't bark-chip and I am stuck pondering the contradictions of lust-- confusions and revisions of the same desperate line But-- I loved you, I loved you, I love you never sounded right. I have a fervent untrimmed wick. When I flicker: I slip-- unless I forget and dial tonight. I will not call. But her eyes closed tightly when she kissed me-- I watched as her eyelashes fluttered and fell on my cheeks-- I will cry your wishes away. I will try to forget we existed. I will twist and thrash unleashed and unabashed I will make a loud noise. I will scream in my sleep when the moment to choose confronts me. Then, Why when our fingertips itched were our tangles strewn out in obsessive neat lines-- my lust and the pain in her taking. my desperate ache for her lip. for the smell she occupied and wore like the smell of mold on trees I cannot change the way she bleeds.

29