A B Perales: Favorites

Sep 2013 A B Perales

R

What is Love?
is it the way you
get nervous and
pace with your
hands (not) on
your hips?
the way you
purse your
lips together
when you
get angry?
the way you
can't help but
smile when
someone makes
a ***** joke?
is it the way your
eyes light up when
you talk about her?
Is it the way you
cared for me so
unconditionally?
the way you make
butterflies flit and
flit in my stomach
even when i was
asleep?
even when tears
consumed my
eyes to the point
where i couldn't
even see you in
front of me
anymore?
the deepness of your
voice consumes my
thoughts and i
cant swim out.

Love is the way you
say my name.
Love is that knowing
glance you give me.
Love is when you
wrapped your arms
around me tightly
because you knew i
was fighting my
demons.
Love is when i stifled back
tears when as I told you
I was happy for
you.

my heart is on fire
from the poison you
left over and im
burning a whole
hell of a lot,
dear.

Sep 2013 A B Perales

Questioning Eyes

Sep 2013 A B Perales

Morgan

Questioning Eyes

He has those dark eyes
Widened with concern
And softened with kindness
Those questioning eyes
That beg to see past
The skin that holds
And into the holder

I know
they say love will
only stand in your way...
But what if love is the
only thing that makes
this messy life feel okay?
Can love be
my reason to stay?

Sep 2013 A B Perales

The Way of Pleasure

Sep 2013 A B Perales

Misadventures of Crow

The Way of Pleasure

Voluptuous.
Wafting smoke,
wan displays, embraced.
Hold the shame.
And:
carry yourself
along the Way.

Liberation
is the name of Her
shoulders and clavicles,
sinuous and ripe
swells,
the music of Her body
thrums.

My church:
Her vesica unveiled
uncoils the serpent.
Then, and then
only,
the shuddering
agony. Be.

Ubiquity
is the stone of Her altar,
death Her skeleton key.
Many locks; one door.
Enter.
Wake up.
Matter doesn't.

Surrender
is not an option, but
an oath of fealty.
One flesh
is
Forever.
Dreams fade.

Repenting
these depraved virtues,
the vice of Her worship
grips tightly.
Die.
All honeyed luster
and deep silk.

*****
is the tinge of Her kiss,
Her laudanum love
the needle ******!
Down.
It all points
that Way.

In nomine BABALON.

Sep 2013 A B Perales

Stardust

Sep 2013 A B Perales

Elise

Stardust

You are the closest thing
I have to a star.

10w

Sep 2013 A B Perales

Sunset

Sep 2013 A B Perales

Elise

Sunset

You told me you would never drink to get drunk because you saw how it made your grandmothers marriage fall apart and your dad always yelled loudest with a beer in his hand.
You didn’t want to forget life because I made it beautiful.
Maybe you forgot that now that you’re getting drunk every weekend.
You told me that life was worth more than sitting around clutching a bottle of whiskey because you had seen what it did to people and I know your mom was ***** but that makes no difference to why she would have a different voice when speaking after one drink.
You can’t make all the excuses for her anymore.
I’m not listening.
Maybe you forgot the time she screamed at me so much I cried.
You held me close on the way home whispering
“she didn’t mean it, it’s just the alcohol speaking in her voice”
I wonder if you’re proud of those pictures of you with ping pong ***** and half naked girls but I would think if you were you would post them yourself and not tell Alex to.
The light has left your eyes and even though your mouth is smiling your mind is lost.
Maybe you forgot all you promised me
I wonder where the boy I loved went

probably lost himself in the alcohol on those saturday nights

just like his parents did

you obviously can't keep your promises like I can//it's like the sun set in your eyes, and never wanted to rise again

Sep 2013 A B Perales

The Distress Of My Past (Adult Content)

Sep 2013 A B Perales

Flawless Contradictions

The Distress Of My Past (Adult Content)

The wind of the lines
Words that are unhinged and woeful
Vunerable enslaved with fear
As my anger grows heavy
Yet I guilt myself into you

My pretty red lipstick is ruined
Covered in your cheap sticky *******
Having me feel shamed
You don't handle rejection
My guts are shattered
You make me eat the blame
Harrasing me until I'm lifeless
Then you mock me
As I spill my veins

Contains ****** content ADULT

Sep 2013 A B Perales

A Beautiful Mystery

Sep 2013 A B Perales

Hannah Turner

A Beautiful Mystery

There's something beautiful that comes
from observing strangers.
Two lovers sit next to me
As I look out the airplane window.
I wonder if they will get married someday.
Or maybe they already are.

Across the aisle an older woman sits
reading the latest edition of "Sky Mall"
and sipping a cup of coffee.
I wonder if she's tired
or maybe she just wants to get to her destination.

Behind me, a tall young man
is taking a nap-
I wonder what he did the night before
that made him so sleepy today.

Its beautiful really.
The way stories come together,
cross paths, and vanish in this elegant mystery.

I can't comprehend
the power of God
to make the lakes below me
and still know each heart in here so deeply.

And I'm not going to try.

Because I wasn't made to understand everything.
I was made to stand in awe at his intricacy.
And right now, looking at creation in the plane and out-
I can't help but wonder-how anyone could doubt.

"We're all the same, desperate for a change, we're all the same, we need your love"

Sep 2013 A B Perales

Couch Conductor

Sep 2013 A B Perales

Sydney Ranson

Couch Conductor

Amber drips from the 60’s-style lamps
on two end tables.
Brassy-orange and bulbous,
they illuminate the tangled tracks.

The light spills onto the floor
like heavy freight abandoning its car.
It spawns the locomotive shadow
cast by my grandmother’s sunken-in couch.

I nestle myself snug between the pillows,
dense and flattened by years of Sundays.
Sundays that bring my father
close to his brother, not a brother at all.

I peer over the edge
and heave a hushed “all aboard.”
Grandma sleeps to unwind
the day’s knot of exhaustion.

Each bone-bleach white fiber frays
from the chemotherapy that robs
her gnarled hands of their strength.
This one-way ticket marks the end of a journey
of a once well-oiled machine.

The exhales of a CSX
spout its peppery breath out in opaque puffs.
I am a conductor, tearing the ticket
of tonight’s traveler.

Rising to my bare feet now,
I sink into the cushion like wet sand.
The train thrusts and in a single bound,
I leap from the ledge and leave my lone passenger.

The cars whir and hum alongside me.
Deafening metallic wind rusts the edge of the rug.
I’m still waiting for her return,
and in denial that it was her last train.