Iris Weary

Iris Weary May 2013

Would you allow me to delicately ooze myself
down the length of your scratchy throat?
-- I'm in need of a new home
The newly blaring sun makes me oh, so sleepy
and weepy to the point of bursting,
A giant, punctured pustule, oozing,
Ooze with purpose,
is all I was taught to swallow,
A little **** and milky
-- the taste is not for everyone

Iris Weary Feb 2013

To Mankind

Pulse echoing in the hollow canal of my ear,
A sweet, persuasive sound that initiates the craving,
I want to taste you in the sickest of ways,
Like itchy centipede legs discovering the back of your throat,
A discomfort only a thousand sips could quell,
I’d like to think I could resist,
I know better; I’m only realtime flesh,
Slowly rub your cheek against my chin,
I’ll dip my nose into your neck and use my tongue to caress each striation,
Until I can taste the carotid reaching toward the holy switchboard,
My jaws will not be denied, closing vehemently,
Penetrating the silky dermis, ragged vents meant to pourpourpour
Vital lifeblood and sustenance out into useful globs of passive alertness,
You are a beautiful, tormented creature in which I can bear to look at no longer.
I cannot see you as you are meant to be, I am deluded and biased..
Sent to realize truth, only to find no definitive,
I will relish bringing about your end as much as my own.

Iris Weary Dec 2012

The Struggles of an Adolescent

Looming night and artificial light,
A pendulum delicately balancing,
Draped whimsically
As if held in place
By an invisible sheer force of will,
Hanging, bustled from a rigid,
Spine-straight brown-black
Pole etched into by the
Fluorescent light that
Paints the golden leaves
A glinting orange duo-chrome,
The leaves flinging themselves
On to the hard, barely-breathing ground,
Gasping only when no one will notice,
Paved in a rainbow of greens and faint yellows,
Steady and straight as far as
The eye can tell,
Hoping the chill will turn to wind
To carry them away from
The only mother they’ve ever known,
Stable ground below offering
A fresh beginning and a bed
For the leaves to reside in
While they look for a new place to call home.

Iris Weary Dec 2012

Passing Fancy

scrawny leaves
meandering carefully,
in a stifled way,
daydreaming of
kissing the clouds
at dusk

Iris Weary Dec 2012

In Search of Fulfillment

To fall into old habits

            Can be all-too-easy,

Magnetic brushing

            With all the wrong people,

Sight averted plainly,

Dramatically to onlookers,

Stairways of winking lights

            Coloring eyes transparent

                        Globes of passing motion,

Streaming flurried static images,

For the reason of familiarity,

Fighting the monstrous

            Urge to flee from the

                        Hollow gust of self-assurance,

Leaving behind a sense

            Of restless guilt,

Cater not to this instinct—

Burn alive in resistance,

From this, arise and blink

            Through the ashes

Until a new perspective

Is revealed and

            Cannot be ignored.

Iris Weary Dec 2012

Brilliant Shades of Nighttime

I want
nothing more
than to be
enveloped in your
warm breath
and molded
into by you
scouring eyes.

— The End —