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 Nov 2015
david badgerow
today is a day in autumn poised somewhere
on the toasted bread color spectrum
except wetter and chewier this morning
the gold light found me solemnly dancing
in the mud among the cypress knees
digging down to the bone to pass
this skin deep writer's block

the sun seemed huge and flat
when it sailed over the evergreen hill
misty on the beak of a warrior owl
but like me it's burning on the inside
tingling the tip of my spine causing
the blood in my arms and legs to buzz
beneath the unshockable woodpecker
with his tremendous hammer where
the monarch butterfly holds court

my skin becomes streaked with brown
as my bare feet slap the water face sending
slow elongated ripples through the swamp river
when the sun begins to spray tie dye off my shoulders
i'm haloed like a young madonna among the
jabbering leaves and whinnying branches

last night there was no howl at the moon cliche
as i let the hungry rain eat me i burped out
a victorious purple bird-sized butterfly
fighting in a gossamer heap from my tum
for my own confused psychoactive salvation

i'm still splashing and swooping
by the adenoidal afternoon
as the wild fox whimpers on the hill
the angelic chorus kicks in when
an ethereal forest nymph emerges
with her hair washed fresh
by the crisp autumn rain
out of the long trumpet gun barrel
of an orchid and dips her silken tongue into
the blue gray puddle of dew collected
in my bare navel

her skinny fingers flit between
the woven strings of an autoharp and
my arms fall limp like the branches of a wind
bent pine toward the fuzzy backs of centipedes
my chest glistens with perspiration
and my lips begin to quiver nostrils aroused
by the organic mating smells in the
daisy and dandelion clusters i
absorb through my open pores
like clear clean shining light
honing priming myself
into a glorious monumental
semi ***** pustule
 Nov 2015
david badgerow
i want to brush your hair in bed
i want to kiss your ears until you fall asleep in my arms
i want to make plans to conquer the world with you
i want to get lost in the immense galaxy behind your eyes

i want your toes to be buried
in the small of my back on cold mornings

i want your mouth to be the one that nibbles
my fingers when we're holding hands in public

i want to lounge with you on top of me
inside a sunbeam and read the same book together

i want you to give me those torturous
hold me down crying tickles i claim to hate

i want your thighs to jiggle when you
sing and dance in the hallway

i want you to know that i'll die without your
quick good-morning bad breath kiss

i want to tumble and tell secrets with you
on fresh warm sheets

i want to be the wall you throw your
anger at after a long frustrating day

i want to flail with you
against every imaginable current

i want to listen to your heartbeat
with the soft pink stethoscope of my lips

i want it to be your fingernails that leave
my back red striped and scarred for days

i want to be the pillow made of flesh you scream
and fall into with exhausted tears on your cheeks
when the world turns its back on you

i want to hear the music your belly and throat make
when you laugh in the kitchen and it echoes
through the house late on a quiet night

i want to be the one that calls you back
immediately after you hang up on me because
we're just not communicating right

i want you to hold me like an alcoholic
grips a bottle and rock me in the dark while
i drown my pain on the swell of your chest

i want to be your siamese twin connected
at the earlobes creating cloud animals in
a soft green velvet summer field

i want to own the shirt you wear on sunday mornings

but more than anything
i want to be beside you
when you climb that
******* mountain
I'm coming from afar
I tell the woman
the last time I came
I could walk straight to the river
now monsoon mud has made a mess
can only glimpse the river's face
is there still a way on dry feet?

She raises her eyes
no way she says
it's all shrub and slush
but you can have a look at my garden
pomelo and papaya,
gourd and green banana,

I haggle over price
wouldn't settle for less than a bargain

she smiles all the way
succumbs with ease
for the take a bag too she gives.

As I leave her on the falling day
I feel no loss
not finding the river's way.
 Oct 2015
Sjr1000
Here we go
Round and round

It's all there
in that loving sound.

Your sweet eyes, they close,
Your lips, they open to mine
Here we go
Round and round
Singing our loving sound.

We know life will drag us down
Fingers grasping at ledges
All the way down
Here we go
Round and round.

I came to  you
You came to me
We both whispered words so true
We took a chance
We took the leap
Holding on to each other
All the way through
Here we go
Round and round.

Our eyes, they locked
Our arms, they held,
That grassy hill
Soft and sweet
We left our feet
Rolling round and round
All the way on down.

The skies above
The ground's below
We're somewhere in between
I know you know exactly what I mean,
Here we go
Round and round
Singing our loving sound.
 Oct 2015
NV
BUT YOU HAVE TO STOP TELLING PEOPLE,
THAT NO ONE WILL LOVE THEM UNTIL THEY START LOVING THEMSELVES.
YOU HAVE TO STOP PLANTING THIS IDEA IN PEOPLES BRAINS THAT THEY ARE UNWORTHY OF LOVE,
JUST BECAUSE OF THEIR OWN STRUGGLE.
 Oct 2015
Sjr1000
Ocean wave
curls and calls
gives its all
then
withdraws.
The ocean is never silent.
 Oct 2015
david badgerow
this time something feels different

this time i'm an angry toucan spitting eager saliva & i want you to rip my plastic beak off & whisper secrets into my slippery face

this time i'm an open book & i want you to place your fingertips on my soft worn pages & read me between the lines forever

i want you to be a magnifying glass mirror to show me my inconsistencies made of stretched wool fibers and hemp and wood held together by shiny clots of ink oil and glue

this time i'm an open door numb with apprehension & i want you to surge into the threshold of my bare bones like a molecular flash flood burglary polishing my darkest stained corners with spiraling velocity

this time i'm an oak sapling planted in your backyard spinning & dazzling in the sunlight & i want you to water me daily so i can grow
with you to unbelievable heights & suddenly sprout flowers from my sinewy arms

this time i'm a babbling brook cascading over slick brown rocks on a lush hillside & i want you to stir the moon like the wind & listen appreciate my serene grace

because this time i need someone whose lips
can be a tissue to the tears on my soft cheeks
before they turn cold & calloused

i need someone to sink their teeth into my
shoulders & collarbone to wake me
from this superfluous daydream

i need someone who beds naturally
into the ribcage nest of my plaid flannel shirt

i need someone who will dance with me
across an empty landscape into
something bigger & deeper
than just the starless sky above us

i need someone who wants to learn
the overlapping language of my eyes & hands

someone who will lounge with me
like an odalisque on the birth-bed of aphrodite
drenched in the shivers of the moon canopy

someone who can blur the lines
between my cerebrum & theirs
so that we become a stitched together
quilt of soft memories in our imagination

someone who has been in a trainwreck before
& knows precisely where to kiss
to make it all better
 Oct 2015
david badgerow
my eyes opened to find
the thin lizard dawn gleaming
after the gutter drank its' fill
of the moon last night
the tambourine
buried in my lungs still
vibrating like these walls
papered with cheap roses

last night i found comfort the
only way i know how
in situations like this
beside a girl wearing
a pretty ribbon
twisted around her waist
pomegranate lipstick
wet clay & tragic glitter
smeared across her eyelids

we spent the night
roped together by
half-removed clothing
& my fingers third
knuckle deep
counting the pulse
of the heart
of the universe

while the wild fox
barked on the hill outside
& the mockingbirds
played riffs in the lilac bushes
her ******* ran tight
around her shins &
she sputtered the dark
lyricism of bees
twisting her tongue
backwards around
itself in my ear

our bare bellies
slapped together as
my tongue found her
tooth enamel &
the trees formed
a tight center loop to
harness the sky
for us & i
held my breath
waiting for her
to breathe first

i can feel her chest
& plump **** now
quietly throbbing
against the tight young
flesh of my back but when
i roll over & see her
eyes darting
green like a thin
ocean laser avoiding
my dynamic gaze &
her pouty mouth emitting
a pink yawn i can tell
she's unhappy & ashamed
of me

i tried to run
my fingers through
the butterscotch tumbleweed
of her hair but she just
popped her gum
& sent me
high stepping through
the soft warm mud
& chest high cattails
of her driveway
callow under the clouds
stuck like gnats to
the fly paper sky
 Oct 2015
Francie Lynch
When poets die
It's sad and true,
It matters not
What their bodies do,
The spirit flies
To Poet's Corner,
In Westminster Abbey.
You'll not see
Busts or inscriptions
For all the poets
Whose spirits linger
Alongside Chaucer, Browning, Spencer,
And a myriad of authors.
Dead Poet you have earned your share;
Dead Poet I will know you're there,
Composing in the Laureate's lair.
For all poets.
 Sep 2015
Savion
You really have to watch those liberal males,
they'll spend hours and hours with you having
deep intellectual conversations.

They'll discuss deep ideas, contemplate esoteric
theory and spiritual ideas. They'll make love
for hours and write deep and meaningful poetry
about you. Sure, they will probably wear their hair
long and most likely won't own a television.

But, they'll understand art and architecture and
literature. It's true that they probably won't give two
shakes about who won what football game, but they'll
dance with you late at night under the stars and they're
always looking for new ways to please you and usually
understand your deepest thoughts, often before you
understand them yourself.

They'll be your best friend and always treat you as
an equal, in fact, it will never even enter their mind
that you're not. They're almost always physically fit, too,
because they're usually the outdoorsy type and love to hike.
They never make fun of others, or discuss small ideas.
They enjoy discussing ways to improve the world and
the lives of others.

Sure, they won't slap you on your *** and tell you to get in
the kitchen and cook them some dinner and bring them a beer
while you're at it like those macho men on the right. Instead
they'll probably tell you to relax while they whip you up a
gourmet meal and serve it to you on the best dishes.

Yeah, you really gotta watch out for those liberal males.
I wrote this in response to a derogatory comment about liberal men.
 Sep 2015
GaryFairy
i have never been sophisticated
sophistication just never related
relative to everything i hated
hatred of the over-stated

i have never been materialistic
materialism isn't a characteristic
characterized by a mind that's realistic
realize, i am not hedonistic

i never gave a **** about tradition
traditional is subject to my definition
defined by my own composition
composed of passion and ambition
i originally posted this almost two years ago
people that mattered didn't stay,

i begged of them not a day
or a night together,

some while,

a pause eye on eye,

hint of a smile
glimpse of a cry,

but they weren't easy,

people that mattered were too busy,

shadows moving, moved away,

while i begged of not a day
not a night together

only a while
eye on eye

to make things better.
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