mallory
American
I am the all-singing, all-dancing crap of this world.... I am the toxic waste by-product of God's creation. / / I rarely write. When I do, I bust out a quick poem in five or ten minutes and call 'er good. / / It would be the greatest tragedy to die untouched and scarless. / Go out and live. Love. Take risks. / That's where poetry comes from.
Why can't I ******* write?
I always used to be good at this;
It wasn't even any work.
The words
dripped from my
brain
And ran down my pen
to the
page
Creating a freeway of ink
For my thoughts to travel by
Along the curves and edges
of every A... B... C...
The paper was a playground
crawling with capering rhythm and
frolicking thoughts that
would romp with my emotions
the instant they ran off of my ball point black Bic...
And I've never been much for
GIMMICKS
so forgive the e. e. cummings ripoff earlier,
and for the all caps just now but
I just want to distract you from the fact that
This Is Not A Poem because
I can't think of any ******* thing to write.
Sep 13, 2010
Sep 13, 2010 at 7:13 AM UTC
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/i-must-leave/
I AM posed- nay, I'm poised
Don't you dare make a noise
Darling, I noticed you notice me...
I know your "juice" is "flowing"
As the product of knowing
The things that I want you to do to me
Yes, you're hypnotized
At the jewel 'twixt my thighs-
just... Mmmmmmm, succumb to your slavery
Till the night becomes morn
And your muscles are worn-
But alas! Now your trance is tapering
I watched your allegiance die
As you kissed and bid me goodbye
And then you went on back home to her.
How you move, how you taste
Your method, not replaced
You truly do make this kitten purr
I will forever remember
That sixteenth of November
And the angel kisses down my spine
But love, don't you ever doubt me
as "go on without me"
Was truly what was best at the time.
Jan 12, 2010
Jan 12, 2010 at 10:37 AM UTC