Jimmy Kerr: Favorites

Dec 2012 Jimmy Kerr

Sophie Herzing

I can barely talk about you without my tongue
swelling up and my jaw clench too tight,
because no matter how much you like me
you're always going to love her.
You're apologizing for things you're never going to stop doing,
angrily saying you're sorry just because you think you should
even thought you know in time you'll be saying
the same lines over again.
You're an addiction that never leaves,
punching the glory out of my own self pride
washing the dignity away with every time
you show me what it's like to love somebody all wrong.
And no matter how much you like me,
no matter how many temptations you give into
or how many vulnerable nights you let me in
you're always going to love her.

I search for a star in your stomach sometimes,
seeing maybe the glow of it will radiate up your throat
onto your lips so I can kiss some celestial honesty
some reminder that maybe way deep down you feel for me
the way I always feel for you.
I caress your body catastrophe for some care,
feel your skin for some skipped heartbeat or uneven pulse
some gentle cue that maybe underneath it all you wouldn't want me to walk away
like I've thought about doing so many times.

It all collects to the poignant moment where I realize,
that never wanting to hurt somebody doesn't mean you won't
that believing in somebody doesn't mean they believe in themselves
and nakedly holding someone after beautiful movement intoxication
isn't love.
Finding something to cling to among the wreckage isn't some meaning,
hoping that one day maybe I'll be the one
isn't love.
It's a heavy like mixed with wanting to heal oneself with another.
It's a backwards devotion that takes shape in the awe of each other.
It's nothing worth giving life to if it's just messing with someone
you might honestly care for,
because you can't have the one you actually want.
It's buying time until the real thing comes home.
It's using someone
you might honestly care for,
because you can't stand the idea of being alone.
And it hurts, deeper than I know you ever meant it to
knowing your fake love is a lesson I never learned
and no matter how much you like me,
you're always going to love her.

Dec 2012 Jimmy Kerr

Co-Morbid

Dec 2012 Jimmy Kerr

Patti Masterman-Heterodynemind

Co-Morbid

My words are cutting themselves again;
razoring their loosely-sutured syllables,
deep as white-eyed bone.

The suave dipththongs butchered
to the cadence of bloodletting
in hemorrhagic oppositions.

Stapled-closed sentences, smeared with Iodine,
and subcutaneous sentence diagramming
for the retractable scalpel
swiveling along the edge,
of the well serrated cliche.

Once I pressed my wordy flesh
against the wrong side
of a paring knife, while paying no attention
and suddenly,
and without warning
it gave, like an over ripe peach
to the cleaver-
and after that, I was hooked.

Dec 2012 Jimmy Kerr

Ghazal: We Want to be Left Bare and Have Sex

Dec 2012 Jimmy Kerr

Zach Gomes

Ghazal: We Want to be Left Bare and Have ***

Heat slips up our shirts, sweaty beads of ***.
We twist our clothes, grabbing at flesh, groping for ***.

The hard squeeze and pressure is scooping out the soul—
Please, push it out, we want to be left bare and have ***.

Our skin is strung together, our bodies hollowed, dry;
Blind to the heat and the mess, we’re swept up by a blissful, empty ***.

The sheets, salted with sweat, are heaved off the bed,
Pillows gone, clothing gone, here there is nothing but ***.

Gasping and shouting, we purge ourselves, we are nothing—
I am pure and vacant, I’ve rushed my blood to my groin for ***.

And moments like these are strained and stretched.
Then, release, the moment falls from us as wet as ***.

Like sheets, pillows, clothes, the rest of me returns:
Too tired to move, I listen to our breathing, short huffs in the air after ***.

Dec 2012 Jimmy Kerr

passion a haibun

Dec 2012 Jimmy Kerr

PrttyBrd

passion a haibun

Blue eyes watching. Blushing at the sight at the very thought.  Flushed with emotion. Hearts beating so fast and hard.  Deafening rhythmic beating.  Quivering at the thought of what may be next.  Hoping it will be so, yet afraid of what is to come.  Self-conscious and embarrassed, time stretches on.  Not wanting the moment to pass.  Holding on hard to the idea.  A soft, almost accidental, brush of the lips.  A light, absentminded gliding of the finger on the skin.  Systems heightened, mind swimming, emotions running rampant, temperature rising.  Taken by surprise the lips plant firmly yet gently.  A breathy moan leaves no doubt.

Sighs tell a story
Opening the door to play
And so it begins

Tentatively, lips touch.  So sweet and delicate the dance.  Welcoming, beckoning to be entered.  Warm and wet they go exploring, tasting, breathing in the essence of desire.  Doubt gives way to fire, and passion wins out.  Piece by piece the offering is made and accepted.  The game continues.  Silently daring to be outdone.  First one button, then another.  Heat rises.  Smooth skin under rough hands. Electricity.  Fingers trace a line that the tongue follows.  Closer, closer, closer.  Involuntary movement brings skin against skin, breath against breath, body against body.

Minds lost to passion
Floods come to drown the desert
Drink til thirst is quenched

The hand once afraid to touch, briefly runs the length of its desire.  Like a volcano letting off steam.  Embers turn into an inferno consuming all it comes near.  Floodgates opened, beckoning.  Waters tested.  There is no denial, no second thoughts, no rewind.  Short gasps of need, punctuated by the sounds of the flesh.  Glistening in the moonlight, two outlines become one.

No more wondering
The question has been answered
Hearts have been traded

There are no thoughts left to ponder.  In this moment there is only those eyes.  Those blue eyes that pierce the soul, that see right through the words.  Lips removed from lips.  Watching the moment.  Waiting for its impending arrival.  Fingers grasp tightly as they pull against the skin.  Trying to melt into each other.  They dig in a little too hard, the sounds are a little too loud. Inhibitions lost on the wind.  No longer able to hold back.

And in that moment
There is only perfection
Nothing else matters

Dec 2012 Jimmy Kerr

Like Powdered Glass

Dec 2012 Jimmy Kerr

PrttyBrd

Like Powdered Glass

So fragile in its exquisite form
Crystalline and glorious
Transparent to those who wish to see
Tossed around by the unworthy
Dropped and shattered
Crushed under pounding foot
In the sun a billion pieces sparkle
By moonlight it looks like stars
How beautifully broken the heart can be

Dec 2012 Jimmy Kerr

Running Order

Dec 2012 Jimmy Kerr

F White

Running Order

Push and pull
like a wave
tides to the moon
the way she goes-

All equators
on the line
in balance
and yet the colour is
off.

Twists in the
branches of fate
may break, fall in the
road, shatter on
the fork.

but with my plate
so full, I cannot clean
it.

I fear starvation
I worry for the coming winter
I cannot store
for I am already frozen.

A stone cannot hide
For it cannot
Feel.

I am not a stone...
But I wish
I was.

Dec 2012 Jimmy Kerr

Terraforming

Dec 2012 Jimmy Kerr

Lin Cava

Terraforming

To think we might go terraforming;
When we cannot save our own green earth.
Bulldoze, clear, hydrate, land conforming -
Leave behind the trash with carefree mirth

Lost to eyes that have never perceived
Intrinsic beauty within a leaf
The song of nature, gifts we’ve received
Perfumed zephyrs, their aroma brief

A symphony of insects and birds
Trills and whistles, loud winds and soft sighs
Music here that needs no spoken words
Had they noticed how it softly dies?

We’ve pushed beyond a safe redemption
Killed off species never discovered
So much more of which we can mention
Some, much too late to be recovered

And yet, we plan on terraforming
Move on to a new place, start out fresh
Some might see it as bullish storming
With ways unchanged, new worlds we enmesh.

Lin Cava©

Creative Commons Copyright

Dec 2012 Jimmy Kerr

Snap!

Dec 2012 Jimmy Kerr

Lin Cava

Snap!

Autumn’s snap is in the air
Like the crisp crunch of a ripe apple.
I want to gather them up from
The trees, take them home in bushels
Make apple compote,
Apple strudel,
Apple pie!

I want to stuff them into roast duck
With black walnuts and chestnuts.
I want to poach them with some pears
And sour cherries.
I want to make apple tarts with cranberries.

And feed them all to you.

Flour dust still in my hair,
Powdered sugar on my face
To make love to your appetite
With bits of apple goodies
In the crisp Autumn air - somewhere
On beds of leaves bursting bright
All in the colors of Autumn.

You’ll never think of apples
(or tarts) the same way again.
And Autumn, a little more exotic
A little bit ******, something
To look forward to
When Autumn’s snap is in the air!

© Lin Cava