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Lick the words
from my lips
let them slide down
your throat
like fruited jewels,
   dark, hard candies
   that melt into cream
a healing liquid  
oozing into my
               ventricles,
pumping milky beats
out through
           your cells
permeating the deep
of my wild
  
My syllables will
   wrap themselves
      around your syntax
frothy hybrids
of buttered silk
                and irony
heart-to-heart
conversations that
flow into the ether,
as heaven's night
endlessly begins

We twirl our tongues
into guttural utterings,
lustful verse
that glides from
slick-fervored ice
to an outpour
                    of lava
We feed each other
dreams
our saliva like honey
dripping with dawn's
tender glow
as we open up
like baby birds,
begging to be nourished
at all costs

Here,
in this lingual forest
Your breath finds a home
on my tastebuds,
my tongue
in your
          cheek
            
In between the tumults
of our
exploding oceans
This
     is how we
  love
 Jun 2018 Anthony Mayfield
rey
Love?
 Jun 2018 Anthony Mayfield
rey
Four letters, many meanings.

What is it? I’m not sure.

Is it pain or something good?

Is it an emotion, action, or both?

How do we really know?

How does it make us feel?

Love, a word with many connotations.

But I don’t really know what it is yet.

I love my possessions, I love my family.

I am not quite sure, what it is exactly.

Maybe I’ll have to receive to understand.

© Regan
“What is love? Baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, no more”
I come from sunlight,
      The sweeping of leaves,
      South London streets,
      Lurburnum seeds;
      Hot semolina,
      A spoonful of jam,
      Hands full of gooseberries,
      That's who I am.

      I come from rose petals,
      The sound of the fairs,
      The smell of candyfloss
      Mist in the air;
      I come from warmth,
      My parents hands,
      Outings to parks,
      Both small and grand.

     I come from knowledge,
     True and false,
     From nursery rhymes,
     And stories and pictures of God;
     I come from gentleness,
     A quiet afternoon,
     From visions of loveliness,
     Sewn on a spool.

    I come from two worlds,
    With different ways,
    A threaded pearl necklace,
    And sensible soles
    A mother and father,
    I think I knew,
    I came and I wandered,
    I looked at the view.

       By Mary **
Poem inspired by the Slam poets on BBC
 Jun 2018 Anthony Mayfield
Bryce
Keep it simple, stupid
Water your squash
groom your ****

clean your hair
make your bed
go to work
rest when you're dead

the mountain's majesty is dis-communicated on the
chaotic explosion of 680
where soccer moms and angry dads
fed direct from the tide
explode inside their cars
nobody can hear them
'till five o clock with a beer in their hand

Kids at school
learning spectra
of color and light and soul and love
so zoomed out
must be
ADHD

SOMEBODY GET THIS DELINQUENT
SOME ******* VIVANCE,
PUHLEEzE!

Cartoon T.V
hey kids! remember not to talk to strangers!
quacked out in the head
they'll duck you inside their candy van
and you'll never be seen again

instill fear of the other
wait, why do they hate us?
why are they afraid?
they're supposed to love everyone
(and gays)

God is dead
we're floating through space
a rock going nowhere,
there is no place

No up or down,
just live and be gay,
there's nothing too queer,
there's no need for fear

just pay your taxes
in time to the state

Now i'm supposed to use big words
and relate somehow
deeply to a concept
we can't understand
but I've tripped far enough
and seen my heels
to know
it doesn't matter how you feel
or what you say

people are gonna keep dreaming anyways.
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