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11.9k · Jan 2015
Elephants are my
Cecelia Francis Jan 2015
Elephants are my
favorite, but I
hate giraffes

I don't trust
the horns
on their heads

Or how they
coerced evolution
into upgrading
their necks, legs AND
tongues -greedy
little *******-

Just eat from bushes
or averaged sized
trees like a normal
******* herbivore
6.3k · Apr 2015
Constitution pollution
Cecelia Francis Apr 2015
Constitution pollution:
the constable ruining
the ******* consecration

A soluble solution:
grape sipping blood
letting to fully bless
the humors
5.7k · Feb 2015
Bike
Cecelia Francis Feb 2015
Bike
tryke
unicycle

Pedalling
with both feet
and no hands
-gaudy helmet
for safety-

Still inevitable
the blackness and
scratches of
pavement

Ride or die
Collab
3.5k · Jan 2015
Life is a mandala!
Cecelia Francis Jan 2015
Life is a mandala!
Everything is a mandala!
-oh my God, I can use my lungs-
Nothing lasts and nothing
matters, however lovely
or terrible

Murderous fingers ripping
unimposing string of
yarn, row by
hourly row
@sq our mantra
2.8k · Aug 2015
Moon princess
Cecelia Francis Aug 2015
Moon princess
always- too volatile
for a prince or king-
stranded in a cold crater
created from some flaming
tongue lashing then leashed.

Some stupid *** quote says:
"If you can't handle me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best"
But it should really be:
"If you can't handle me at my worst then maybe I ought to go the **** away until you can tolerate me again because I'm not in any position to foist my shitstorm on anyone"

Or maybe I should stick to the original
Constantly inbetween inordinate pride that says I deserve the world and my gut telling me I'm not worth ****
2.7k · Mar 2015
Striked kite
Cecelia Francis Mar 2015
Striked kite
-lightning bolt-
key: string
rod electricity
2.7k · Jan 2015
The poem reaper
Cecelia Francis Jan 2015
The poem reaper
-sleek and discreet-
awake after its
long sleep

Post-hibernation:
does one address
the thirst or the
hunger first?
2.7k · Feb 2015
She tastes her tongue
Cecelia Francis Feb 2015
She tastes her tongue
-stuttering, spluttering-
and recoils -bitterness
and bile- slobber down
the side of the chin,
spitting it out.

She tapes her tongue
to the front of her
teeth -so that it
does not touch her
uttering buds going
down-

Slurping loudly
the syrupy silence
and its sounds
her thirst grows
to frenzy

Sacrificial  
blood offering
-trembling-
to the ancients
within her
Assembly of the doodles that are my notes from She tries her tongue, her silence softly breaks M.Nourbese Philip
2.6k · Jan 2015
I'm no real
Cecelia Francis Jan 2015
I'm no real
thing

some flash of
magical realism
-the force but not
the subject-

existence in the
vibrations and singing
of mushi, but not exactly
becoming those
tufts of light fully
2.2k · Sep 2016
Regular Sized Rudy
Cecelia Francis Sep 2016
"Regular Sized Rudy?
Why do they call you that?"
"Just look at me."

Yes, look at me. Are
the laces of my corset
tied tight enough?

Do I deserve lust
if ******* show
in this underbust?

Is my masculinity
compliant and
where it needs to be?
This is my second Regular Sized Rudy poem lol I think the first is better
(a waltz in  3/4 time)
2.0k · Jan 2015
I dance with
Cecelia Francis Jan 2015
I dance with
body electric
blue and
sliding,

Let me
teach you:

Yoncé flexin
-*******,
*******-
hands up
hips rolling
like loaded
dice

Song over.

9-5 just
to stay alive
another month
2.0k · Apr 2016
My mother tongue
Cecelia Francis Apr 2016
My mother tongue
is my father's language.

My mother had a
tongue like her own
like my own and all like

their father's tongue,
whose first father's tongue
was the first to lick up a
word and taste it.
1.9k · Jan 2015
The ballade of boiling pots
Cecelia Francis Jan 2015
Dribbling drops from above,
sunken in cieling
seal skin smooth
saltfish nicely
butchered
bubbling

Floats and
sinks for
ocean floor
kisses
-coquetishly-

Can't stay too
long,

Hey, I'm Mister
Meeseeks,
look at me!
Can you finish cooking?

Can't exist too
long

Simple tasks in
order to give
them a quick
and proper
inevitable
heat death
1.8k · Feb 2015
My bae has got
Cecelia Francis Feb 2015
My bae has got
these loving arms
that never get enough,
and let me roll too
much

I've got it good, I've
got a good one who
makes me good as new
even as the new
moon rises
1.7k · Jan 2015
King Midas
Cecelia Francis Jan 2015
King Midas
has donkey
ears

The truth
-in a shallow
ditch-
covered by
a thin layer
of dirt
1.7k · Jan 2015
Beauty the
Cecelia Francis Jan 2015
Beauty the
incunabula
-first traces of
anything-
of poetry

Feelings
-known but
unnamed-
spurned
from the
sublime
1.6k · Jun 2015
I spit bars
Cecelia Francis Jun 2015
I spit bars
like a pharmacy,

Got a ***** preachin,
like a homily
1.5k · Aug 2015
I'm on my worst behavior
Cecelia Francis Aug 2015
I'm on my worst behavior
like Drake

These ****** leaves in fall
and I'm a rake
1.5k · Nov 2015
The clit of some text
Cecelia Francis Nov 2015
The **** of some text
is not in the ******
or the lips of a lover

What pleasure resides
in the text? Is it in its being
written or read or dead?

It radiates from the turn of
the page, the rest of some
sentence forgotten in sleep
tercets from my manuscript
1.5k · Jul 2015
Bitter pill picnic
Cecelia Francis Jul 2015
Bitter pill picnic
tables set to
prepare the
banquet

Pilgrims gorge until
pillow stuffed
full of itself
and doubt

Doubled over tummy
ache: dummy done
did to itself
-regrettably-

Pillow fluffed and
mattress flipped
to fight the
mighty itis
1.5k · May 2015
To taste you is to slip into
Cecelia Francis May 2015
To taste you is to slip into
that Freudian pit, and
turn a baby still
****** fixed:

To tongue out
the parts that might
identify you fully
1.5k · Jan 2016
We all wear clothes
Cecelia Francis Jan 2016
We all wear clothes,
and lick our lips
against the cold.

As a child things close
with a ziplock zip, and grass
made you a woodland nymph.

A sentiment arises on the first
day of school—and you say: never
let me go or let me go at once—

With a stubborn tug
in the passionate bones
long gone by lunch
1.4k · Jun 2016
If fusion were just
Cecelia Francis Jun 2016
If fusion were just
a cheap trick to
make gems stronger,

then would Garnet
have even found
Sapphire and Ruby
to begin with?

Is our comfort made
from presence or
conversation and
which is stronger?

The side effect of
unconditions is that
thing expectation
dreads; some book
already read

turned its page and said:
I am made of love, boldly
with inflated lungs, but

what is love
even made of?
Steven universe
1.4k · Mar 2015
Variations on preach
Cecelia Francis Mar 2015
Love proves
inadequate at
every turn

****** niggling
over stupid
****

Shed no tears

Ain't like he
crying over
you
1.4k · Mar 2016
The effect of Kirito's yell
Cecelia Francis Mar 2016
Is the line under
the signifier: a thing
not self-originating:

And the I that takes
a pleasure in watching
it identifies with the self
watching it happily identify

This representation of the
self in verbal and then
ideal form to be faster,

Faster, faster, because
Mommy is near and I have
wings and can ******
you with my bare hands

It's an understanding
in an unconventional way:
To say that the utterance
gives way to strength
I sense a pattern
1.4k · Aug 2015
Ten fingers
Cecelia Francis Aug 2015
Ten fingers
went to tend her
garden of buttons:

The right hand kisses cheeks
with Mr. **** and then greets
The Twins with a tender twist,
as the **** on the door when

He comes,
and we lay atop each
other to be a team—of beams
of light strobing across some sheets
of ice, maybe—with steadily raised stats
I think I've been reading too much #bernadettemayer
1.3k · Oct 2017
There are men
Cecelia Francis Oct 2017
There are men
with loud voices

I've been taught
to fear since birth.

If the intermittence
of skin flashing between
two articles of clothing is
where seduction occurs

then where is the
****** gaping cloth
of a yell?

Is it in the cavernous tongueless space
of parted lips: in some silent inky
strident echoing taste
or
in the tightness of vocal
chords pulled taut, the strain of
raised forehead and neck veins?

There's a weight in
my chest like a weight
in his bed, heavy and
unsatisfied and
thinly veiled.

I think somehow
the look on my face
must be a pleasing design:

a familiar retraceable
state: a reminder that
I don't mind him,

I know my place:
in a small, quiet space,
in his arms when its late,
on the drip of the spit on the tip of
his tongue: a flash of flesh over pale teeth:
a site of intermittence: in a hesitation

a fearful hesitation
barthes, chord progressions
1.3k · Dec 2014
I want to
Cecelia Francis Dec 2014
I want to
write words
in hasty brush
strokes,
-messy yet
precise and
in its right
place- smear
and blend two
words into one
to create new
hues

How can I
paint a
poem?

How does
one display
indefinance
with definite
things?
1.3k · Jul 2015
Summer Mantra Haiku
Cecelia Francis Jul 2015
Peep that new growth bae,
werk them thighs, drink water, sleep:
Glow the **** up *****
1.2k · Dec 2014
If poetry
Cecelia Francis Dec 2014
If poetry
were
currency

We would
exchange
goods
for prose

Tip with
metaphors
or
similes
-if you're
rich-

Authors
on the
stock market
-portfolios
of long poems-

It'd finally
be like
how money
feels
Oink oink goes the capitalist pig
1.2k · Aug 2015
A mother bird sat and
Cecelia Francis Aug 2015
A mother bird sat and
sent another mother bird at
some other burning tent

So away she went
1.2k · May 2015
Winged migration
Cecelia Francis May 2015
Winged migration
to flee from migraine
irritations:

I was the shadow
of the waxwing slain,
flung and flew through
wire flues on the roofs

To be some happier
glove, not on hand
1.2k · Mar 2016
The Ancient Magus Bride
Cecelia Francis Mar 2016
Oh my God, I forgot
how ******* amazing Manga
is and I wonder can't

Remember why I ever stopped
reading it tickles then torments
my sensitive nature and
reminds me

I am a romantic when
my green grows and swells
resonating from her hand on
his coat or her resounding
"I belong to him" sound

It sounds like drivel:
to need so little as a trope's
grip of some coat in a storm
Mahou Tsukai no Yome
1.2k · Dec 2015
How many ties are there
Cecelia Francis Dec 2015
How many ties are there
exactly and when does
the schism occur?

At some point, a
stance is taken and
a yell is given

“Look at it! Look at it!
I want all of you
to look at it!”
1.2k · Apr 2015
Hypocrite tournament
Cecelia Francis Apr 2015
Hypocrite tournament
put the hippos in a
tourniquet

Turnt a bit
too turned up

Two ton tummies
summo wrestling,
who will win?

Mounted champion
munching on
mountains:
A hypo-hippo-perbole
1.2k · Jun 2015
There was no hope
Cecelia Francis Jun 2015
There was no hope
for Dubliner Dedalus:
a shift from naturalism
into the bizarre

Not enough to effuse
or diffuse: a hero
in the firmest sense
1.2k · Dec 2015
Regular-sized Rudy
Cecelia Francis Dec 2015
"Regular-sized Rudy?
Why do they call you that?"
"Just look at me,"

A touch of incongruity,
like a rogue ****** in
the parking lot of Rite Aid
that's like really close to the entrance

He said: "I want us to
be happy, and normal,
and I want to treat you better,"
Just look at me.
1.1k · Sep 2015
I pluck her panties
Cecelia Francis Sep 2015
I pluck her *******,
like a bouquet

Tie that *** up,
call me Christian Grey
1.1k · Apr 2016
A coupling doubling
Cecelia Francis Apr 2016
A coupling doubling
effect of the thoughts
ability to produce

Itself again in a
body not too far
away from the self

Like a tool or limb, like an
extension of the brains
primary function to organize
1.1k · Aug 2015
Embouchure
Cecelia Francis Aug 2015
Embouchure (n).

A certain lemon-*******
puckering of the lips pressed
against a moistened surface;

a sure fire way of producing
some string of singing sounds
from some dictionary terms.... might get back to these
1.0k · Mar 2015
Are we really done
Cecelia Francis Mar 2015
Are we really done
with phrasing? I mean, I just
wish someone told me
1.0k · Feb 2015
Disappointment ointment
Cecelia Francis Feb 2015
Disappointment ointment
to treat the pigs
at their disastrous
appointment
-oink, oink-
o ink o inkling
clinging and lingering
938 · Oct 2015
Tough titties like
Cecelia Francis Oct 2015
Tough ******* like
rough kitties with
soft—but mangled—fur
932 · Dec 2014
Taste full
Cecelia Francis Dec 2014
Taste full
waves made
rolling
moare of
you

discom
bobulated
model
compiled
of tons of
things not
made of
us
in a
constant
grasp
of your
bending
banyan
limbs a
mangrove
combinding
to keep an
open
meyend

total
composite
of things
outside
of me
930 · Mar 2016
You are likely to
Cecelia Francis Mar 2016
"You are likely to
succeed if you try!"

Perhaps that's why
I find a part of the
self in verbal form

At the subatomic level of
this and that there is a Platonic
good vibrating like mad, like a
mountain flower

Saying "Yes, I said yes,"
will you yes to its yes?
Yuki Yuna is a hero, chord progression
923 · Jul 2017
A pot bubbles
Cecelia Francis Jul 2017
A *** bubbles
up and under
the shaky lid
clamped shut.

As a child,
my mother would
chide me for

lifting the lid
of rice and
stirring too early.

I was letting
out all the
steam.

But the bubbles
sticky white and
bursting over begged

to be released.

For a time,
my body was
not my own.

I boiled,
simmered,
then cooled.

Lifted the lid,
scraped the sides,
and stirred.
900 · Dec 2014
A haiku on babies
Cecelia Francis Dec 2014
Why the **** are you
so ****** cute, you little
chubby sack of fat
890 · Jun 2015
Love or free
Cecelia Francis Jun 2015
Love or free
who you want,

they're gonna
die anyway
886 · Mar 2016
She's changed and
Cecelia Francis Mar 2016
She's changed and
much more sensitive
than she used to be like:

She'll cry if something
is sad enough to cry
about and say "how sad!"

To herself, she says
softness can be a reverse
blade sword that cannot ****

It says "I will not ****," with
a murderous strike: a representation
of a murderous stroke, twice

Removed from a first killing
swing a springtime of ******
youth and creative expression

Exists in the ego only and
the line between signs a
flash of the you in the universe

How natural and harsh, such
lovely waste: an amazing
mazing system of constructing
Idk a weird combination of influences
874 · Jan 2015
Ithaca
Cecelia Francis Jan 2015
The day of
her affair

And Poldy
-in love-
allowing it

A father invites a son
into the kitchen,
talking before
he walks
him
out

Reentering
the house at night
filled with evidence
of Boylan

Crumbs brushed
off the bed
-ten years
since-

Feet at the head
and head at the
foot, a behind
kiss to Gea-tellus
Earth mother
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