Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Derek DM Jan 2017
the fat **** there lay
On the wall
splayed between thighs open
Without expression
Except as art
The beauty of figure
Nature's whorish expression
comes to life in this ****
In pencil, or is it pen?
Shocked ***** nether
pressed into 80 pound bond
Look, look away
Move on, but look back
watch her lips purse
irises flicker and throats clear
Fountains of youth
never produced such blush
In the markings of young women
where bared ***** roam
in Quieted approvals
And not this shaft of derision
Where ******* have put down
and no one blinks an eye
So raised are now the *****
and let's see where the room turns.
Derek DM Jan 2017
Let's get on our knees
Put our hands together
Press our faces into the sunlight
Feel the cool air in nostrils flared
Let our mind wander with the wind
Into our loves and yearnings
Until they become part of the morning
A wave in the tidal pool of living
Until we rise parched
Lips dried from our breath
And we have found ourselves
In the sway of our elms
In the dancing songs of our robins
And in the crunching snow.
Derek DM Jan 2017
Don't forego the innocence of creation
We weep the same salty tears as our mother's
The same clearing air fills our lungs with song
The bristled brush strokes and black pencil marks
Have seen the same hallowed curve through time
Let us fall into our place on the arc of our story
We forget our truths in each mornings rise
Rejecting the lines that just yesterday we drew
Until each day it is written anew.  By you.
Or else rejected as trite, an artifact of life
Rejected by years and years of tribalism
There can be nothing new under the sun
So scratch and awl the patterns and patches
Or remember the innocence, the open patch
Between the trees where sun breathes life
Into your skin and eyes and mouth.
Where breezes set the color of your mind
and Your tune buzzes beneath the countenance of your love.
Derek DM Jan 2017
The ridges of flesh
under your voice's blade rise
To penetrate consciousness,
to feel so alive
Yet the blood of our vows,
The meat of our methods
Consecrates our bonds
It is the lines that I love
Not the smooth tenderness
of your holy innocent
The calloused notches of your
vanity caught between thus
Where the real blade lies to us all
The wet release of our sins
Across skin, across skin
Until, again,
and again
You give in

To the rise of our breath
and the fall of our cuts
In the middle of days
Murderous justice
the collusion of cells
cold calculated severance
in karmic conscious rebellion
Is where we will collide
Derek DM Jan 2017
You do not have to be good
If you hear the whispers
Faint in the hallways
of your own heart
You have already heard
that there is no good
Only that which your
lips ache for
In pangs bowels deep
Where flesh raises at
the thought of ends
where poorest judgement
Lies awake with torment
It is the very breath of our disaster.
Derek DM Jan 2017
You do not have to be good
Be gratefully abhorent
A jubilant banjo of colors
Bleeding together into song
With crackled verse sung
Proud melodies whipped
Choruses bent forward
Into screaming chasms of hope
Until the voice is its own
Kind of weeping reality
Where the energies lie within
The centers of us all
Derek DM Dec 2016
You do not have to be good.
The spaces in your lines are there
like the gaps in notes
Rests of benevolent space
Vibrations mended by air
Blown by the wind
Until it lands upon your lips
Parted so perfectly
the strings of relevance
breathed out and in
Across my ears
Into my center.
Next page