Our gazes meet
Sizzle
Alone in a sea of people
My pulse picks up
Pure. Liquid. Intensity.
*****. **** me hard promises in a heated exchange
My sparkling laughter attracts your attention
You want it
I bite my lips through conversation
Knowing you can taste me on the air
Feeling your eyes burn into mine
Tingles race up my spine
You set me on fire
Weaving slow through the crowd
Herding me into a corner of shadows
Soft curves fill your palms
Fitting perfectly
Hot, urgent breath on my neck
"Give into me"
Pushing your throbbing length against my tender flesh
You drive me crazy
But I am a monster
Taking and breaking wherever I go
Just when our mouths touch
Already panting into the air between us
I start to fade into your memory
The unattainable
Always just out of reach

Old telephone lines like fossils prehistoric, outdated
So many cOnversations by glowing screen
I could have been something you were really good at
Rhymes and rhythms shared over many mediums
Canvas, air, virtual, paper stain love
It's always the words that stick around
A mind can change anything into what it wants it to be
These pages turn yet still they remain unchanged
Tattooed, scarred into lyrics and get away car(d)s
I miss you
Whispered a mantra across the thin skin of your spine
Tingling the hemispherical split of right and left
Blind on one side, defective
The vision of freedom all at once clear then blurry
Catorax agoraphobia with a hint of I-will-not-open-for-anyone
Wish I could get the taste of unrequited desire out of my mouth
Burn clean the haunting of murky waters
Your sharp incisors still emerge from those depths to keep festering the wound

Further still
Heat laced with wet silk
Lassoing isn't so easy
With hair forever unkempt and breezy
Reckless, careless, tossed to the wind
I close my eyes only to rise and fight again
Broken through the quakes, the rubble
I've got moonshine veins
Laughter like bubbles
I wrap you soft and sweet spun sugar boy
Only to fall away, this run hiding toy
You put far too much into my hints and clues
I'll be your heartbreak if you'll be my muse
A deal is a deal, sing it soft, dance slow
I want to hear it all go down
I want to be front row

You went to that place
                         Where her flowers used to grow
Spilling hot, salty tears countless times
                    Left the air always smelling like the sea
Even years later
                       You can still hear her mermaid laughter
                   Echoing through the trees
Grown over with weeds now
                                      Sweet memories resting place
Much like the aching hollows of your heart
                   Anger rushes through the quiet solitude
           Urging your knees to buckle
Digging your hands into rich, wet earth
Sobbing great hiccuping gulps through mournful wails
                        True pain is that of loss
A circle is finally cleared
       Exhaustion floods the moment
Head heavily laid where she rests
                   Clouds hum by above the canopy
Digging into your pocket
Smiling softly now
            Grasping at incubating bleeding heart seeds
A hole here, a hole there
                                   She'll grow again

*For the dead never truly leave us

I had the weighted ghost of a palm once pressed
Now a phantom limb tingles
After reading letters you wrote while sick and prone against stark white
Heavy heart yearns to have you linger
Gentle is the softest whisper of your echoing "goodbye"
Tears slip to fall and form
Mirrored pools at my constant running feet
Each salted soldier fighting to remain
Still

Smoky jazz music floats on air
Carried by the whispers of prohibition
Deep woods moonshine
Flashing smiles from pearls to cigar tips
Soft velvet red coating lips
Hiding behind champagne glasses
Their fresh diamonds sing of blood
I watch from the office chair
Wing backed, cushioned
Fit for a queen
Bayou queen with swamp water veins
Ebony skin like satin
Whiskey eyes that take it all in
I built this from nothing, hole in the wall
This is my town
You have to pay to play
My debt book is thick
Your names like a mantra I hum beneath the saxophone tune
I'll get my money
*Or I'll get you

By Sverre G. Holter and Brook Ilges

I turn, giggling
Your fingertips just out of reach
Of my sensitive ribcage
Running full blown three-year-old style
Down slick hard wood hallways
I can hear your steps catching up
I grin
      
You turn, giggling
A cloud of dandelion seeds
Floating between my fingers; a
Handful of fog
Mocking me unmockingly with
Every echo thrown like the frisbee
That entertains the puppy
Until its teeth finally sink into
Slightly elsastic plastic that
Doesnt's mind the feeling
Of sharp, little fangs
Breaking what could have
Been skin, but isn't
When I catch you
(When you let me catch you)*
I'll growl and shake you
So hard you'll laugh
Until you go limp between my
Teeth
Lets us never, never ever be
More serious than
This

If you were a book
I would stay up all night
Feverishly flipping pages
Soaking up every single syllable
To know your ending

If you were a tropical island
I would explore your lush, secret interior
Spending long, lazy afternoons naked
Sun drunk on your shores

If you were a ***** joke
I would throw my cackles to the ceiling
Careful to not burst windows
Making sure to retell you often
Your punch line only gets better

If you were a roller coaster
I would wait in line for half the day
Just to be caressed by your safety harness soaked in other's sweat
Not to mention your talent with G-spots,* I mean forces*

If you were early morning
I would brew you strong and extra hot
Sipping cautiously at your ceramic edges
Watching blue smoke lazily curl
Then taking deep gulps as you cool
Buzzed on you till the afternoon

If you were mine
I would fill up your long dried and crusted ink wells
Encourage your laughter to come out to play
But above all
I would love you. Madly.

You have to do it all
Just to know where it gets you
Spilling *** and secrets through verse
Begging me with lined pages to give in
I am the mountain
You are monsoon season
Wearing down the face of my resolve
The echo of our mingled passion lingers
Like the scent of your skin against mine
From pushing to pulling we are connected
Through fingers buried deep in pulsing veins
"This is where you belong"
You slither along my curved neck with a southern draw
I wish miles were clouds and we could sleep forever
The comforting eclipse of moonlight stopping time
I apologize for nothing
As shadows fall across your smile
You will not wait
I am not the one

Honey moon
Wild free nectar racing through
Late July veins like rain
You are that razor edge
Awareness of the separation
Between corporeal and physical
Melt through, right on down
To the event horizon
Twisted molecules braiding
Memory
This is alive
This is
This is you
This is me
This is now

*let's not waste it

I smell like ***
Air heavy with the palpable heat of I-Cannot-Sleep arousal
Why do you have to be so delicious?
You gorgeous, bearded, mind fogging  *******
I rage at you from miles away
Crackling edges of my ire willing you to wake
The wet, slippery heat of my core begging for you to take a taste
To give relief
Strung so tight you could play me without tuning
Your deft fingers ringing such sweet melodies
In the soft silence that is all I have for a caress
My self-rung sighs speak volumes

She pearlized the stage
Slippery, conch shell translucent
Dancing on air it seemed
Or Venus rising from open seas
I could not break away my gaze
As her cresting form broke the waves
Rolling me under just as easily
As root torn kelp in stormy late spring

He started out by telling stories about his childhood
All of us crowded around him
Our mouths caught open wide with wonder
When he recited heroic tales of dragons and fire
Adolescent eyes as round as saucers
The smell of starry nights and wild fire permeated
A cabin built by his calloused hands casting shadows at sundown
Bears always came out at night
We could hear them outside of our tents foraging
He would leave them crisp apples, sharp teeth crunching
Soon our deep breaths mingled with crickets
The whole valley asleep and quiet beneath us
As we dreamt of bean talks and Grandad's guarding sword

Little viking hallow
Sharp turns and horns of arctic white
You stole through me like Valhalla thunder
A lightening flash to burn this bright
Odin's rough touch never felt so good

Nature has deemed fit to bless the female form with monthly...troubles
Once taboo to speak of
Many grew up ignorant of their own blood
Only that it's purpose signified
Their readiness to be sacrificed
Lower than cattle, owned, bartered
A son meant continuation of line, of name
A woman was an acquisition
Nothing more
Many a young maid, trembling on her wedding night
Forced to open her heart, her ****** body
To a man, hopefully gentle
That she had only just met
Let alone speak to
A groom preferred his bride
Meek and mild
Untouched by even her own hands
To know pleasure was to be a wanton
Nothing pure could be so passionate
When our very nature dictates us to be so!
Society views our struggle as
"Having come a long way."
How reprehensible to say such a thing
When we are still victimized
Underpaid
Objectified
Abused
The media flaunts only those
That are deemed "beautiful" by a panel of judges
When in fact all of us radiate
For we are governed by the moon
*Our very *** harnessed by her silvery pull

My heart feels sick
For the disease growing be-
tween us pulling soft

I am black lace kissed with stardust
You are brilliant, faded, hand me down
Tie-dye
Leaving the smell of afternoon naps
Sleepy smiles
And camp fires in your wake
Turning on my Mother Nature
Let's get to dancin'round these flames
Licking the space between our skin
Heart beat rhythms driving hips
To sway against our strings
Connected.
Summer rain steaming mmm please
Feel your heat getting closer
A river runs through me
So in tune, I pulse for you
Aching with the distance
That seems to always separate
Our good timing

Blowing candles
Twenty and nine
The supposed last joyous year of youth
I still feel 12

Many sorrows
Many great blessings
Ribbon together in bright May pole colors
This beautiful weaving of my life
I wear it close, this art work
For even the tiniest of words
Have effected it's pattern

*Our age should mean no more than acquired wisdom
Like fine wine we sip on memories
I am no different
A toast to you Birthday Girl
Make a wish for me

I am sorry.

Three words that can help heal
Yet we often find it so hard to utter
Our pride gumming up our tongues
So they lay silent, our lips mute
I have never understood that difficulty
To take responsibility
Regardless the action
We are built to withstand pain
Not create it

Look around you.

Pain is an art form
One we have perfected
In what could be the sunset of our civilization
We are still as un-evolved emotionally
As our dawning
Such great pains are taken in the name of progress
Foul atrocities that stain our hands
When working together, as one heart
One whole
We could have sparkled bright in these last rays
Instead we are judge and executioner
With little thought to how we will look
When that sun rises again

Son, women (sigh), women are a kin to the ocean
Riding the currents of their emotions
Through cold and warm
Swelling, ebbing
Pulled by silvery moon
To navigate their shifting tides
One must be a patient sea captain
Hurricanes and tempests may steal your hope
Hold fast! Secure the rigging!
Listen to the wind though, my son
Her siren's song will guide you through to safe harbor
On those days when you reach calm waters
The aches she soothes in your soul
Will be worth any perfect storm

If you were a book
I would stay up all night
Feverishly flipping pages
Soaking up every single syllable
To know your ending

If you were a tropical island
I would explore your lush, secret interior
Spending long, lazy afternoons naked
Sun drunk on your shores

If you were a ***** joke
I would throw my cackles to the ceiling
Careful to not burst windows
Making sure to retell you often
Your punch line only gets better

If you were a roller coaster
I would wait in line for half the day
Just to be caressed by your safety harness soaked in other's sweat
Not to mention your talent with G-spots, I mean forces

If you were early morning
I would brew you strong and extra hot
Sipping cautiously at your porcelain edges
Watching blue smoke lazily curl
Then taking deep gulps as you cool
Buzzed on you til the afternoon

If you were mine
I would fill up your long dried and crusted ink wells
Encourage your laughter to come out to play
But above all
I would love you. Madly.

Instead of oceans for eyes
She had puddles for skies
Everyone always telling her to dream bigger
She could not see past her own figure
Tainted and painted with innocence, with sight
Only knowing her small thoughts
Never really taking flight
Open up, radiant flower
Praise them all with your wide eyed wonder
Finally seeing the forest for the trees
Taking in wonders she thought she'd never see

Screening all of my calls
Past tense
Cell phone out the window
I have nothing left to say
My borders have been shut down for ages
Rust making them squeak
Easy out unable to be found
Thoughts stream uncontrolled
I want you
Get out of my life
**** me
Shut up
Tuesday mornings are a *****
Filtered through and watered down
I am not a predecessor
Only a predestined failure
Stay away
I only keep words
Words of goodbye

I am compelled to lay it all out
***** laundry bleached, sun dried
Phased moon
Waxing, waning, new, full
A constant reminder of our will to change
Inherent ability to shine as much light
Or cast as much shadow
On our faults as we choose
Enter police interrogation lamp
I...am selfish
I lie
I steal
I supplement dealing with emotions with chemical relief
Often responsibilities lie unfulfilled
Compliments make me uncomfortable
I need to learn to let go
I look at myself too long in the mirror
I enjoy *** to the point that it has made my partners less confident
I procrastinate
My heart will always ache for someone I cannot have
I allow others to take advantage of me
A short list in comparison for all that I have to atone for
Yet I remind myself every day
I am only human
As are you

We stand before them gray and numb
wake up
All eyes vacant, fingers lax
wake up
Waiting patiently, thoughts sterile, for meal time
wake up
On the menu today is fascism
wake up
But we've been fed that so many times before it is
considered comfort food
wake up
All of our threadbare clothes are dull, without variety
wake up
The food sits soggy and weighted in our ravenous gut
wake up
Clawing at the cage of our hearts to do something
wake up
To be something
WAKE UP
Yet still we toil in our once free soil
WAKE UP
The feel of dirt under our nails the only connection to the earth we have left
**WAKE UP

Subtle twists and turns
Make my thoughts tangle
Unsure of what hail Mary affirmation will redeem
What little intellect inferior artists contain
I am not being cruel
Or even over judgemental
Just honest. Truthful.
Prescreened, pre-cleaned
You did not pass muster
Left on the stoop to await another bus
Perhaps one more tolerant of shabby verse
Hopefully a few extra seats will be open to house your assumptions
Leaving ample space for your empty, arrogant rantings

Your crazy haloed spectrum smile
Curves lazy slow sweet amid early morning
I tag along, you step inside
The braided lengths of our hungry fingers
Time slows
My sighs stream softly into wishes
Neon tinted bubbles capturing swirl wind
I focus on their ascent to star dust
Right where I want to be

Helium balloons smell strange
Lending a birthday clown like quality to the sterile state of hospital rooms
My feet hurt from running fluorescent hallways
Your gown was never tied right
Even after you slipped away
Down in the morgue, cold, laying in wait
While I cry myself into exhaustion amongst your death soiled bedding
Still smelling like sickness and you

Winter has settled into caustic bones
Brittle, alkaline, unrepentant
Fine snowflakes layer a hybernating heart
Memories of summer long gone
An ebbing tide of loneliness recedes
Giving way to the numb after glow of acceptance
Sharp splinters of ice break through frost bitten skin
The illusion of warmth lulls to sleep aching thoughts
Each movement painful and creaking
Breaths becoming laborious
Eyelids heavy and lethargic finally close
Left to dreaming of the sun once more

She walked through the window
Stumbling and reeling
I called out to her hollow
Have a care for the ceiling!
She turned bleary eyes
Smiling crookedly at me
Her face one of several
At the same time three
Amber liquid in a crystal glass
Sloshing over the brim
The newly mopped floor
Whispered sternly and grim
We are only watchers here
Sitting silent and long
As rocks often do
Listening  to a  stream's running  song

Parallel we run our course
Only difference in choice
You may say it is the scenery
Or how you see
When in the midst of knowing
We know nothing and all

There is no loss
Between the palms of our joined hands
Nervous dew turns strong holds slippery
I did not wait for you to walk away
To let my heart fall
The tender fountain of my youth
Slowly drying as days pass
Not wanting to let go
I hold tight, regardless of our sweat
Keeping you by my side

This internal cataclysm
Incurable but I am hoping
That my mid-twenties tragedy will transform
My biological clock into a vortex
Sending me shooting forward to see that I am divine
Then back again to this impending mortality
I cannot see the future, endless
Possibilities take form in the shape of current faces, places
I often wonder if in fact I am as I claim
"OK"
Words like strong, will of iron and resilient
Pair with my story when told by others
My version is much more malleable
More like gold in the hands of Hephaestus

You've got this seven year itch
Gone through about 31 to find
The right fit for your glitch
Guitar strings for heart rings  
Hips grinding against your newest
Ink splatter


I see a face that has launched ships
Baritone stiff and moody
Like a cigar bar on a Sunday afternoon
They are all hiding from their wives
When they come to watch these shadows
Quiver

Florida hot sand winds carrying the rich scent of citrus
Waft through open stalled markets
A thousand flora exposed to my salivating glands
Creamy veined melon rinds, sweet and dewy
Are pale globes gracing the chest of our own mother earth
Feeding all of her children with sun drenched nectar
I discover the prickle of Pineapple
Sharp edges similar to that of Loki's temperament
Playful, forgiven,  excused for it's very nature
Bins of giant emerald plantains
Sit bulbous, suggestive and engorged
A not so delicate reminder of the Forest God's potency
Enough to curve the blush of any maiden's cheek
My hair lifts with the breeze
Catching every scent in a swirling kaleidoscope of colors perfume
Ready to bottle and bring me right back to this moment
The market's end is near, one last row
Mangos as far as the eye can see
I pluck a Champagne from the pile
Bite in deep, juice running down my now-happy-childhood chin
Mmmmm....giving over to the experience of such bright flavor
Spirituality at it's most base
*This must be the taste of God's ******

When the rain finally falls
A tidal wave of emotion breaks free of rise and pitch
Drowning my hollow cavities
I feel full
Mouth open, jaw unhinged desperation
If I could resist, let it flow through and disapate
But no I dam it up inside
Limbs numb
Pressure tearing me apart
I can still see filtered sunlight on the surface
An anvil taking me down sits heavily
My chest it's reluctant lover
Thoughts drowning in shadowed depths

Pieces fall
Snowflake shapes
Each reflect differently
In its descent from Hrímfaxi's mane
For I am Nótt, scarred by shadow
A blanket of stars tattooed across my brow
Reigns of frost dangle from crescent fingertips
Guiding dreams through the night

A crimson muddy ravine is marked on both sides by
massive cliffs towering over the precession below. A figure wrapped
in white muslin and rubbed with ash  is propped up on a stone altar. Around the figure
tribesman and women dance hard, their eyes wild, their curled fingers wicked.
The figure is not touched by the dancers almost as if he is diseased. I realize
at this point that that is exactly what is going on. A plague has swept through this
tribe and killed many. They burn the bodies on these altars to appease the gods
and to beg mercy. The dripping fat and flesh pools in the mud below, making a small trickle of filth that led to near by water. Down river from this tribe is a whole different world. Here instead of being dark
skinned the people are very pale. All of their houses are remains from shipwrecks
put up into trees and connected by rope bridges, hammocks and twisting vines. Below the fields are
covered with water. Below the surface was their crops. Melons, lettuces, berries, peppers all kinds of
earth like flora but every species glowed softly with a pulsing beat. The pale tribe was very careful walking through the lines while harvesting. One rough handling could ruin the whole crop. A sense of fear was here all of the people smelled strongly of it. I could still hear the drum beat of the sick tribe. All work stopped and slowly everyone turned to look at me. Just then a loud crackling sound shot through the sky. A bolt of lightening struck close. Gasps could be heard all around. I looked quickly at my feet in the fields of water and didn't see the glow. The fields were black. The pale faces around me sunk in, gaunt and hungry. Their mouths worked but I could not hear them. My vision went blurry then black, fading away from their struggle.

He could tell something was different
Every time he looked at her
She was always changing
First her hair, color, cut, style
Fingernail polish
Then it was the look in her eyes
A faded, jaded comparison to the lighted jewel that use to shine
Voice inflections, tastes
He could tell she was moving on
How did he broach the subject?
Who could he confide in that would care
She stopped sleeping
Her once, monthly girl night turned into twice
Then every other night she needed their "support"
Walk in closet became a hallow mausoleum
Still smelled like his favorite perfume
Strange calls coming in past midnight
"Just my mom." she would say
Leaving their bedroom whispering softly into the phone
He could tell things would never be the same

He was a trilogy master
Leaving out the brisk bite of winter chill
Extremes to an extend
Always turning back again towards the light
Engaged in graphic silence
He toiled
Ink stained fingertips acrid as he bit their half moon edges
Dragons and fire burn across the pages
Blank ones waiting their turn to soak up his imagery
Sand dunes sweep across his vision
Night landscapes forever shadowed in darkness
Howeling mountains inundated with sharp-toothed beasts
His pen swirls with magic and mist
At once a slave and master to his words
This is his world
One of falling asleep on half-written sentences
Waking up from vivid dreams to create again
*This is his world

Tender blossoms unfurl
Against a spring rain back drop
The forest is silent
To an untrained ear
A white tailed mother can hear a twig snap
Protecting her young from all harm
The finch can hear a cricket play
A filling breakfast for the quick to rise
Close your eyes...
The day slows, your lungs expand
In that space between heartbeats
*you can hear the leaves breathing

We are our addictions
If not we wouldn't be willing to
Bleed so quick
On an endless search to find like minded companies
When we are successful we dig in
Casting out whitty barb edged hooks
Exotic, ****** verse to shock and ensnare
I can feel yours just as easily as I feel myself sinking into you
Our chaotic experience of the waking world
Leaked out on paper, line after scathing line
Consume. Saturate. Devour. Paralyze.
We soak up the mysteries.
The miseries.
And everything in between
Sharing and tearing
Scaring and airing
Naked. Open. Bare.
Our soul fire burns up quick and bright like coal
The smoke often just as *****
Eclipsing preconceived notions
You know nothing of our dark pleasures
Aching secrets that have us wandering into the night
In search of something.
Thousands of words but never enough
Always searching for something
Our indulgences outweigh your pride
We will air your laundry too, uncaring
Just enough to shame and cower
Our only vulnerability is our inability to succeed from our talents
For it is only in death that we find **immortality

Vines of apathy stunt the growth of many
Listlessly moving through their day
Burdened by our way of surviving
Cold, without empathy

Where has our compassion gone?
Things cannot console you when you need a warm touch
A hand to hold
A sympathetic ear

We, all of us, are made of star dust
Cosmic stuff
Coursing through Big Bang engineered veins
Yet fluoride calcifies our connection with that energy
Pineal gland silent, radio waves dead

Nature is in harmony, was
Until us
Now she has lung cancer, poisoned waters
Fields of dust that go on for miles and miles

What have we done?

Clean energy, Eco-friendly products
THE KNOWLEDGE TO GROW OUR OWN FOOD
Is at our fingertips
Big Corporate wants you to stay dumb, numb and greedy
Feeding their insatiable need for more with your own


If you look closely, real close
Starting with your own actions and priorities
You will find that what once was a co-habitation with us in the mix of this great planet
*Is now us at the top, alone

(By Brook Ilges and
Sverre G. Holter)


There's fire in it. Chestburn. Lungs
And lava, heart in heat; blood
Boiling. When I move,
Steam escapes from between
My ribs.
They cage a dragon's mouth.

Our edges cauterize
Unable to stabilize this searing
Electric firestorm
We coalesce into colors
Streaming through our nerve
Endings
Pulsing the rhythm of ages
Into the space between our gazes
Your scalding hide sets us apart
A rough reminder of the scars that
Stitch beneath

Sometimes.
Sometimes I find myself.
Sometimes I find myself
Biting down on
Whatever is left of myself
After the vulcano sighs and
Withdraws its black; its
Ashes; its pieces of planet's
Core, just to hold onto
Something with
Something.
Sometimes I wonder if
The memories of surgical
Sutures are all that keep me
From falling apart.
Take my mouth; I'm saving
My hands for
My heart.

Darkness falls, low light lingers
I trace the confines of your cage
The lock rusted and still
A key exists, the heart resists
Too damaged to offer naught but numb
Cutting through pumice walls
Fiery thorns thick, penetrate with ease
Such paltry designs of recovery
I'm fading fast
While you still burn.

And while one of us fades burning,
The other burns fading, and all is as
It all should be, as two stars
Decide not to form a solar system, but
Instead to brush themselves into a painting
Of a dream that a child that has yet to
Become just dreamed; awoke from
And whispered: "I want them to
Be my mother and
Father..."

The heavy weight of his gaze penetrated the darkness
More aware of him now than ever before
Something has changed
Been following her for years starting as a child
Picking wild flowers at dusk
She could feel his hunger as it swept over her
Primordial awareness
Her breath hitches, throat dry, tongue swollen
Say something
She needed to know what to do
Closer to her now
Shuffling across cool wood floor
His eyes are a black pit, colorless
Whether rage or lust fuels him she cannot tell
Nostrils flaring, cheeks flushed
She is unsure
A bead of sweat slides down between her shoulder blades
His pupils contracted slightly as though it registered
True fear crowds her prominent thoughts
Lust.
Some sorcery has ensnared him, erratic
His canines visibly lengthen
I cannot wait to taste you. Dripping honey sweet his whisper slashes
She knew she was in trouble when she felt her secret flesh moisten
She inhaled sharply feeling  his earthy scent saturate every cell
Gliding palms skim softly across her pale chest up around the silky curve of her throat
She has waited for him to claim her for years
Slipping through the darkness
Always watching
No longer.