mimi-bordeaux - Hello Poetry

Animosity pushshove prosePic by Mimi Bordeaux hit me harder whack me up to the point of unconsciousness pinch me til it hurts me sting me like it was a wasp bite my arm off like a shark flinch when I come at you burn your insides as I approach with the adze in my hand shrill high like a woman as I **** one heel on your **** parts and press down until you are screaming at me to stop nitpick me in front of my peers make fun of my achievements right up to the end pull my hair out and thump my head against the dresser 12 times trip up my every move then whallop me in the face thump you over the head with thick rings on my fingers crack your back with a whack thwack pummel you in the face with my hands slam **** you man ram your ears into a car exhaust pipe batter and splatter you in blood and bruises— for the years you took from me Mimi Bordeaux 7 October 25

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Oct 10, 2025

Oct 10, 2025 at 2:19 PM UTC

Animosity

Animosity pushshove prosePic by Mimi Bordeaux hit me harder whack me up to the point of unconsciousness pinch me til it hurts me sting me like it was a wasp bite my arm off like a shark flinch when I come at you burn your insides as I approach with the adze in my hand shrill high like a woman as I **** one heel on your **** parts and press down until you are screaming at me to stop nitpick me in front of my peers make fun of my achievements right up to the end pull my hair out and thump my head against the dresser 12 times trip up my every move then whallop me in the face thump you over the head with thick rings on my fingers crack your back with a whack thwack pummel you in the face with my hands slam **** you man ram your ears into a car exhaust pipe batter and splatter you in blood and bruises— for the years you took from me Mimi Bordeaux 7 October 25

21

Dry eyed poetry The night I died I wake up early — 5am — and wipe my withered eyes of sleep — I peep out the at the dewy green lawn now beaded with moisture —and feel like rolling in the lush flourishing foliate freshly The morning rain creates crusts of hoarfrost as the sun rays sprays its gay day light bright — into the hot rooftop — top Leaning over my window sill I smile at the crow barking at the piece of crust I hold tightly — Windows here are non drafted — non sealed — cracking — leaking — creaking and I see next door’s open back gate A deer frolics its way across the parkland and into the forest badlands Recently I saw a cockroach appear — jumping past quickly as if he knew I was enemy number one I didn’t try to get it — rather let it go along the way — across the bench and up and into the cupboard — not wanting to assess the mess it might leave after being in there Bush ‘Dread Zed’ said he would be in the brushwood after ten only he didn’t make it again Decorated and funny he lacks punctuality and reliability — erasing points off of my mindful mentality tokenistic consciousness He left a gas map — mishap — catnap — fat-snack for the girl with the large rap — *** — sat —in her lap — Cat — a friend of mine who I occasionally sleep with Gyani and Tao exercises for the limber and supple take out the late afternoon not quite as rough as past classes Little do I have left of my Iyengar yoga instruction I did for over ten yearsor over ten years Agile as a jaunty kid of eight I stretched — up — doing the crab — better than everyone else in the class — down into a headstand holding for over fifteen minutes then pitch a perfect posture poised in plain sight for everyone to see The instructor liked to push us But that was a while ago and existing (time) takes on a different meaning as you grow older It appears as an extra second of life that you must have had but can barely imagine nor remember doing or living Or driving in — or dancing with— or gallivanting over — or jumping out of the box— or stuck inside the head— or in a blank space — Maybe just around the corner and back — Clued to be fed up with exhaustion and desire to change — sometime — when? Tommy draws a picture of tomorrow evening at dusk— wild eyed and smart I like him a ton — I feel his head slump on my shoulder and tears flow from his pretty face — ***** dawny fawny drawny — until morn — down his cheek — like salty sea anemone Hanging for a hit Gear is easy to come by here Otherwise you would go mad Insane language is spoken by the tongue of Eastern Europe — Old Czech Republic — Croatians — mixed with cheap red wine makes crazed gloating girlfriends scatter — plot the data in a bottle and fly away Some folk say things like ‘don’t change’ when they really mean ‘I wish you would alter your clothes’ Sam dances around me like a dervish A special man who was at the *** end — break up — early of his laddy to go Futile bit — **** of a little kiddie — exited Poor sore raw roar furore More tears are fraught with gaunt ****** leanings — meaning seeming yearning — gone boyo of 15 — Sam reminds me of an older woman — wise wizened— Grown men cry too during a Guffaw — **** taking falling off hopping laughter The end of the story Mimi Bordeaux February 11 2025

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Feb 11, 2025

Feb 11, 2025 at 3:35 PM UTC

Tears are not Enough

Dry eyed poetry The night I died I wake up early — 5am — and wipe my withered eyes of sleep — I peep out the at the dewy green lawn now beaded with moisture —and feel like rolling in the lush flourishing foliate freshly The morning rain creates crusts of hoarfrost as the sun rays sprays its gay day light bright — into the hot rooftop — top Leaning over my window sill I smile at the crow barking at the piece of crust I hold tightly — Windows here are non drafted — non sealed — cracking — leaking — creaking and I see next door’s open back gate A deer frolics its way across the parkland and into the forest badlands Recently I saw a cockroach appear — jumping past quickly as if he knew I was enemy number one I didn’t try to get it — rather let it go along the way — across the bench and up and into the cupboard — not wanting to assess the mess it might leave after being in there Bush ‘Dread Zed’ said he would be in the brushwood after ten only he didn’t make it again Decorated and funny he lacks punctuality and reliability — erasing points off of my mindful mentality tokenistic consciousness He left a gas map — mishap — catnap — fat-snack for the girl with the large rap — *** — sat —in her lap — Cat — a friend of mine who I occasionally sleep with Gyani and Tao exercises for the limber and supple take out the late afternoon not quite as rough as past classes Little do I have left of my Iyengar yoga instruction I did for over ten yearsor over ten years Agile as a jaunty kid of eight I stretched — up — doing the crab — better than everyone else in the class — down into a headstand holding for over fifteen minutes then pitch a perfect posture poised in plain sight for everyone to see The instructor liked to push us But that was a while ago and existing (time) takes on a different meaning as you grow older It appears as an extra second of life that you must have had but can barely imagine nor remember doing or living Or driving in — or dancing with— or gallivanting over — or jumping out of the box— or stuck inside the head— or in a blank space — Maybe just around the corner and back — Clued to be fed up with exhaustion and desire to change — sometime — when? Tommy draws a picture of tomorrow evening at dusk— wild eyed and smart I like him a ton — I feel his head slump on my shoulder and tears flow from his pretty face — ***** dawny fawny drawny — until morn — down his cheek — like salty sea anemone Hanging for a hit Gear is easy to come by here Otherwise you would go mad Insane language is spoken by the tongue of Eastern Europe — Old Czech Republic — Croatians — mixed with cheap red wine makes crazed gloating girlfriends scatter — plot the data in a bottle and fly away Some folk say things like ‘don’t change’ when they really mean ‘I wish you would alter your clothes’ Sam dances around me like a dervish A special man who was at the *** end — break up — early of his laddy to go Futile bit — **** of a little kiddie — exited Poor sore raw roar furore More tears are fraught with gaunt ****** leanings — meaning seeming yearning — gone boyo of 15 — Sam reminds me of an older woman — wise wizened— Grown men cry too during a Guffaw — **** taking falling off hopping laughter The end of the story Mimi Bordeaux February 11 2025

40

Spiked Mulled Wine Sweat like a corpse in a (dawny dowdy dawny) copse a forest of flies fire flight of twi-light seeblack-blue opalesque pearlescent nacreous pancreas lining wining dining ending up with the light of jesu hindu master tweaks his little bells (out of) their shells coapting coaxing sticking it to the masses passers by dreary teary bleary feeling alone with your ***** dog ‘galbador’-real name — allyl cyclohexyl glycolate why do I always look so socially drawny mawby scrawby lordy baggy galpy scaredy catty claggy faggy end of this drive eyes filled with pus? cuss the weather tether me knees together going mad already bad and sad dad went years before and after mum did leaving is all they know how to do well it’s s a gift from my parents to scarper when the kids get too rowdy loudly maudlin goblin mouldin thoughts on one left side of my brain open cranial sacral chakra larkerseratonin my dopamine receptors say hello to chemical imbalance of my lead head said dead just alive kept going by a senior psychiatrist who took an interest in my case file larger than life itself between two good neurones bashing clanging together growing like a manic bipolar transistor with a psychotic disorder between two good neurones bashing clanging together abruptly adroitly soulfully she let me in goll golly goldy go comatose come home poem dome my tome reads like an amateur souless epiphany head of aching shaking making noises of doom moon soon will be half shaped circle of like please bring my elixir its own packet what’s that racket downstairs towards the bottom back to me head of aching shaking making noises of doom moon soon will be half shaped circle of like fife mife byfe lyte lyfe pyfe myfe brittle bendy bandy bones blown down drown no sound when you’re under the water immersed submersed macerated saturated ****** scouser louse in my hair won’t go away

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Aug 21, 2024

Aug 21, 2024 at 10:04 AM UTC

Spiked Mulled Wine

Spiked Mulled Wine Sweat like a corpse in a (dawny dowdy dawny) copse a forest of flies fire flight of twi-light seeblack-blue opalesque pearlescent nacreous pancreas lining wining dining ending up with the light of jesu hindu master tweaks his little bells (out of) their shells coapting coaxing sticking it to the masses passers by dreary teary bleary feeling alone with your ***** dog ‘galbador’-real name — allyl cyclohexyl glycolate why do I always look so socially drawny mawby scrawby lordy baggy galpy scaredy catty claggy faggy end of this drive eyes filled with pus? cuss the weather tether me knees together going mad already bad and sad dad went years before and after mum did leaving is all they know how to do well it’s s a gift from my parents to scarper when the kids get too rowdy loudly maudlin goblin mouldin thoughts on one left side of my brain open cranial sacral chakra larkerseratonin my dopamine receptors say hello to chemical imbalance of my lead head said dead just alive kept going by a senior psychiatrist who took an interest in my case file larger than life itself between two good neurones bashing clanging together growing like a manic bipolar transistor with a psychotic disorder between two good neurones bashing clanging together abruptly adroitly soulfully she let me in goll golly goldy go comatose come home poem dome my tome reads like an amateur souless epiphany head of aching shaking making noises of doom moon soon will be half shaped circle of like please bring my elixir its own packet what’s that racket downstairs towards the bottom back to me head of aching shaking making noises of doom moon soon will be half shaped circle of like fife mife byfe lyte lyfe pyfe myfe brittle bendy bandy bones blown down drown no sound when you’re under the water immersed submersed macerated saturated ****** scouser louse in my hair won’t go away

46

Shallow Victoryprose for enmities Where were you when I was tied to a tight right fright fight flight- out of site- bed of nails? Where were you as I climbed the river’s apex- onto the bridge to jump into the grubby gray filthy foul nubilous turbid Yarra River during afternoon peak hour? A couple of years later I found a path that led me to solid ground. The floor of leaves: ashen brown- dried from the autumn skies that frighten the forest walls lived my torso and mind. Decision plus: chambering up the tree-big burly branches to hang on to or to just hang: whatever you please- I swung backwards and jumped down only to feel fervently frighted and let down by myself. Bad reasoning is the corner stone of every neuro-domapine- lacking- serotonin- high- chemical- affected-aneurysm-apocolptic-trip-of- nine- inch holes- cranium-madness Am I supposed to weep at a funeral every other time? Or cry at birthdays? I don’t know anymore. Lost the music in the ears. Loud as London buses. To Camden Town or Finsbury Park Back North where we lunch in Hampstead Heath. Meeting with the dead-turning life into sugar- was my soul brain fed properly. Nice to hear the dream come truly alive. Ears are made of wax. Eyes to peer in. Tax merchants visiting their wards. I exist as a soiled tar glum stolen by a grub ancient times ago.It’s about the whole rage. Ripping into your sick mind and gut stripped out of you like a lamb slaughtered. Another organic area of bile. Living with a sin or kin. Blabber- bub-drums-it into a ball Dearth path laugh quark Dim- win-din-pinned and high on smack Hot tot rot amaze me with your scream number 1 Bella- we all been one sometime

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Jun 21, 2024

Jun 21, 2024 at 5:51 AM UTC

Shallow Victory

Shallow Victoryprose for enmities Where were you when I was tied to a tight right fright fight flight- out of site- bed of nails? Where were you as I climbed the river’s apex- onto the bridge to jump into the grubby gray filthy foul nubilous turbid Yarra River during afternoon peak hour? A couple of years later I found a path that led me to solid ground. The floor of leaves: ashen brown- dried from the autumn skies that frighten the forest walls lived my torso and mind. Decision plus: chambering up the tree-big burly branches to hang on to or to just hang: whatever you please- I swung backwards and jumped down only to feel fervently frighted and let down by myself. Bad reasoning is the corner stone of every neuro-domapine- lacking- serotonin- high- chemical- affected-aneurysm-apocolptic-trip-of- nine- inch holes- cranium-madness Am I supposed to weep at a funeral every other time? Or cry at birthdays? I don’t know anymore. Lost the music in the ears. Loud as London buses. To Camden Town or Finsbury Park Back North where we lunch in Hampstead Heath. Meeting with the dead-turning life into sugar- was my soul brain fed properly. Nice to hear the dream come truly alive. Ears are made of wax. Eyes to peer in. Tax merchants visiting their wards. I exist as a soiled tar glum stolen by a grub ancient times ago.It’s about the whole rage. Ripping into your sick mind and gut stripped out of you like a lamb slaughtered. Another organic area of bile. Living with a sin or kin. Blabber- bub-drums-it into a ball Dearth path laugh quark Dim- win-din-pinned and high on smack Hot tot rot amaze me with your scream number 1 Bella- we all been one sometime

27

To Lose Everything and Die for it Punch me know how it feels how it goes away too soon like its memory holding the pull of time holding out for something punch me in the guts how is it feels like pool of blood pressure lowing it feels like pool of blood holding a pitch in decay decades of forlorn expulsion of punch list of items in the guts free to call pulling me out of time call the feels like pool of blood holding a punch me know how it goes away too soon golden hours on methadone climbing and scoring a high from the closest thing to blood pressure lowing the punch me know how it feels holding on to the feeling like blood spilt on a pool of soil golden brown hasish found in my pocket and two years after that hit me in the guts feel how it goes holding a pitch and putt goal in mind to star in my own golden hours brow beaten path to gold punch me know how it feels Holding up the rush of running to nothing a globe holding on to it like how is it feels golden blood pressure lowing the punch me in the guts how are we feeling blood holding up the acolyte it goes away too soon punch me know what you are missing golden hours on methadone climbing and closing gate to star in my own and operate a higher level than God holding on to nothing is happening fast as you running away from too soon punch me know when it comes to blood pressure lowering your thoughts down to memory card punch in the head all gone to her head now holding on my way to freedom of memory cells broken and missing like chemical reaction to antidepressants is so sad down in the morning and in my night time memory punch in the morning and night at golden hours blood pressure lowering your price list for closing gate to freedom blood golden brown hasish found in my pocket with the ticket to hell never gone through the whole day without your consent format time it moves around universe floating around your body slowing growth and you feel like punch me know how it feels like pool going too soon holding the pull out of your life holding the baby of love despite the gate to freedom of golden hours on methadone climbing and scoring a high good byeall gone to her head now holding on my way to freedom of memory cells broken and missing like chemical reaction to antidepressants is so sad down in the morning and in my night time memory punch in the morning and night at golden hours blood pressure lowering your price list for closing gate to time it moves around universe floating around your body slowing growth and you feel like punch me know how it feels like pool going too soon holding the pull out of your life holding the baby of love despite the gate to freedom of golden hours on methadone climbing and scoring a high good bye

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Jan 25, 2024

Jan 25, 2024 at 5:54 AM UTC

To Lose Everything and Die for It

To Lose Everything and Die for it Punch me know how it feels how it goes away too soon like its memory holding the pull of time holding out for something punch me in the guts how is it feels like pool of blood pressure lowing it feels like pool of blood holding a pitch in decay decades of forlorn expulsion of punch list of items in the guts free to call pulling me out of time call the feels like pool of blood holding a punch me know how it goes away too soon golden hours on methadone climbing and scoring a high from the closest thing to blood pressure lowing the punch me know how it feels holding on to the feeling like blood spilt on a pool of soil golden brown hasish found in my pocket and two years after that hit me in the guts feel how it goes holding a pitch and putt goal in mind to star in my own golden hours brow beaten path to gold punch me know how it feels Holding up the rush of running to nothing a globe holding on to it like how is it feels golden blood pressure lowing the punch me in the guts how are we feeling blood holding up the acolyte it goes away too soon punch me know what you are missing golden hours on methadone climbing and closing gate to star in my own and operate a higher level than God holding on to nothing is happening fast as you running away from too soon punch me know when it comes to blood pressure lowering your thoughts down to memory card punch in the head all gone to her head now holding on my way to freedom of memory cells broken and missing like chemical reaction to antidepressants is so sad down in the morning and in my night time memory punch in the morning and night at golden hours blood pressure lowering your price list for closing gate to freedom blood golden brown hasish found in my pocket with the ticket to hell never gone through the whole day without your consent format time it moves around universe floating around your body slowing growth and you feel like punch me know how it feels like pool going too soon holding the pull out of your life holding the baby of love despite the gate to freedom of golden hours on methadone climbing and scoring a high good byeall gone to her head now holding on my way to freedom of memory cells broken and missing like chemical reaction to antidepressants is so sad down in the morning and in my night time memory punch in the morning and night at golden hours blood pressure lowering your price list for closing gate to time it moves around universe floating around your body slowing growth and you feel like punch me know how it feels like pool going too soon holding the pull out of your life holding the baby of love despite the gate to freedom of golden hours on methadone climbing and scoring a high good bye

4

Memoirs of an Evening Dig deep deeper — never good enough — no the psych won’t open up just for anyone — you have to be a special kind of person — one so scarred that even the track marks don’t show. Wear tear bare it well — tolerate the tension dread devil dog that comes with it. Down hard tonight and in my mind wears a friend calling me back but I can’t go why not? Oh, **** I need to go! No no you must be here for your mother’s visit. She’s younger — like when I was a teenager — speaking eloquently — nothing as frightening as the demented dada painting that came later.

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Jan 25, 2024

Jan 25, 2024 at 5:53 AM UTC

Memories of a Nightmare

Memoirs of an Evening Dig deep deeper — never good enough — no the psych won’t open up just for anyone — you have to be a special kind of person — one so scarred that even the track marks don’t show. Wear tear bare it well — tolerate the tension dread devil dog that comes with it. Down hard tonight and in my mind wears a friend calling me back but I can’t go why not? Oh, **** I need to go! No no you must be here for your mother’s visit. She’s younger — like when I was a teenager — speaking eloquently — nothing as frightening as the demented dada painting that came later.

4

And so I came across your big ocean the bold seas of the Pacific, feeling your hands already the sensual flowing glowing through the skin. My eyes are shut down from the endless days of wine and talking all night through social media no real touch oh how do you make me feel like a real man I'm afire fervently brushing past the hoards of travelers rushing around excuse me I'm thinking of your body what is it like. There is no longer a wireless barrier between us our wires are cut mouths open to big brash kisses, my tongue will eat you luscious lady who changed my world. Oh hello is this true..is it you?

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Dec 15, 2021

Dec 15, 2021 at 7:52 AM UTC

Tale of Two Lovers

And so I came across your big ocean the bold seas of the Pacific, feeling your hands already the sensual flowing glowing through the skin. My eyes are shut down from the endless days of wine and talking all night through social media no real touch oh how do you make me feel like a real man I'm afire fervently brushing past the hoards of travelers rushing around excuse me I'm thinking of your body what is it like. There is no longer a wireless barrier between us our wires are cut mouths open to big brash kisses, my tongue will eat you luscious lady who changed my world. Oh hello is this true..is it you?

1

If I had to be a deity I would be mine for it is only one’s heart that keeps beating within the crown the handsome jewels adorning my torso grub beneath the surfaceI have heard they choose the lowly men for this job and so it is I your blasted heat blown in from the North wind chill factor 95 who walks the red carpet smiling down at you peasants all the **** from the village meandering mice for men filth grown up as female a rat disguised in a ruby gown who gaze upwards at my size gold rings and wealth of spirit Open the hatch for me please see my time of dying. My time has come

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Apr 15, 2021

Apr 15, 2021 at 6:39 AM UTC

In the Time of Dying

If I had to be a deity I would be mine for it is only one’s heart that keeps beating within the crown the handsome jewels adorning my torso grub beneath the surfaceI have heard they choose the lowly men for this job and so it is I your blasted heat blown in from the North wind chill factor 95 who walks the red carpet smiling down at you peasants all the **** from the village meandering mice for men filth grown up as female a rat disguised in a ruby gown who gaze upwards at my size gold rings and wealth of spirit Open the hatch for me please see my time of dying. My time has come

2

Forever Ever or Never Forever does it exist? Forever is never doesn’t exist. It betrays hearts, breaks bones in its subtle nuances. It takes love, makes it eternal but it’s not. There is nothing just worn down cloth from the gaggery. No one has any right to tell. Love has no name so don’t expect it to deliver your ***** pleasures. Aphrodite has a mirror_ it reflects your world of despicable lust. Her voice flogs those who use its dance for uppity pose. Freyja was here with Eros flown away. I am impassioned with this. Never born_trapped in mother’s uterus_screaming forever. But you released me. This hideous hateful horrid hobgoblin always down inside inner core gutter’s sewer range. Crawling with the dregs- scrags_ slags lovers who have been banished for a dream of sensuality. Unbeknown to every scab here, I am to see_ relish freedom_ hovering, staggering towards my light, the golden globe IBurning gone but not forever as there is no ever or nowhere forgone. Person of steel lifts me out of the gutter- carrys me on her back to the hollowmen hole. I’m gone.

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Apr 10, 2021

Apr 10, 2021 at 9:20 AM UTC

Forever Never Ever

Forever Ever or Never Forever does it exist? Forever is never doesn’t exist. It betrays hearts, breaks bones in its subtle nuances. It takes love, makes it eternal but it’s not. There is nothing just worn down cloth from the gaggery. No one has any right to tell. Love has no name so don’t expect it to deliver your ***** pleasures. Aphrodite has a mirror_ it reflects your world of despicable lust. Her voice flogs those who use its dance for uppity pose. Freyja was here with Eros flown away. I am impassioned with this. Never born_trapped in mother’s uterus_screaming forever. But you released me. This hideous hateful horrid hobgoblin always down inside inner core gutter’s sewer range. Crawling with the dregs- scrags_ slags lovers who have been banished for a dream of sensuality. Unbeknown to every scab here, I am to see_ relish freedom_ hovering, staggering towards my light, the golden globe IBurning gone but not forever as there is no ever or nowhere forgone. Person of steel lifts me out of the gutter- carrys me on her back to the hollowmen hole. I’m gone.

6

The Hunters Gathering They gave me something I couldn’t find forever mine now dipped in brine *** end of cynicism cattle call callous catfight calling spitfire baby come on light my fire death to us part let’s gather our remorse throw it into the timber yard let it rust along with my other trophies of lust desire grief biding my time spits on her fits before injecting it ravenous like the eagle eye she has for this trade of grub watch the seaweed drown her mourners daydream saliva salty on the wasp love is taken here gone is the one who became lost in the hunters gathering.

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Nov 26, 2020

Nov 26, 2020 at 2:43 PM UTC

The Hunters Gathering

The Hunters Gathering They gave me something I couldn’t find forever mine now dipped in brine *** end of cynicism cattle call callous catfight calling spitfire baby come on light my fire death to us part let’s gather our remorse throw it into the timber yard let it rust along with my other trophies of lust desire grief biding my time spits on her fits before injecting it ravenous like the eagle eye she has for this trade of grub watch the seaweed drown her mourners daydream saliva salty on the wasp love is taken here gone is the one who became lost in the hunters gathering.

2