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 May 2013 Malcolm McGill
Lucanna
The intimate connection

A closeness
where proximity
is never the issue
words caught from mouth to mouth
like a French kiss of communication
Seductive cognitive stimulation
Tingling understanding
from ear to heart to mind
As soon as the first word uttered
first glance in flight
it's as if
loneliness was never known

The lighthearted playful connection

Laughter released roaring from
the core
A dream fostered by two
to champion the fantastical
adventurous night of
spontaneity and the birth of a different self
Veins, blood, cheeks chuckling
A direct line of yellow energy
from one being to the other
spreading like unconscious permission
allowing comic relief
and free-spirited flight of
words, song, dance
It's as if
consequence of action
never existed

The healing connection

Rage and pain
spouted out of a
heartbroken hose
A desperate hope for rehabilitation
And then another enters the space
Alas, another enters the suffocating space
and pumps oxygen back into the room
for hurled haughty words
and salted wounds
No need to choose a side
the center of the bed, saved for you
to curl and cry and become lost in
another's blanket embrace
Holding exhaustion for you
It's as if you had four shoulders
to hold that world of yours
instead of two

The forbidden connection**

Two beings
owned by another
through
rings
or promises
or time
The universe, introducing them
The light accidental brush of a hand
Longing iris to iris
Lust permeating the senses
Logic and sequence futile
Crimson licking up breath,
movement, muscles
It's as if for an instant
a wish thrown out to the stars
to be an article of clothing
hugging crevice, curve, skin
the connection to another and three of it's forms
There's a tombstone on a hillside
At its feet is muddy ground
It can't wait for me to get there
I know...cause it calls my name out loud

And this tombstone on the hillside
Knows when that day will come
And that no one will be there to morn for me
As in life, my death will morn alone
A silence with you
Is not
a silence

But a moment rich
with peace
Everything
is a trap.
Everywhere I go
the monster is waiting
to eat me alive.
The sensation starts
on the inside, in my
Stomach,
turning and churning.
It moves to my
heart,
causing a beat that could
be heard around the world,
gripping terror
speeding up the thumps.
From there,
It can reach my whole body.
My head,
whispering words of discouragement
My hands,
trembling and spilling everything.
My legs,
refusing to let me run
away from the monster.
And so
I go only where I am
safe.
I don't go out
because the monster that is
me
always knows where I am.
It's all in my head
which makes it harder to
fight off.  I have
no chance.
I will never
escape
this
trap.
 May 2013 Malcolm McGill
David
I guess I'll sew my fingers together now
And swim to some green shore out there that no one really knows about
Right after I sweep the remaining string under the carpet
Once knew a girl
She was starshine
Near her grace
I did lose control
Knew deep inside
My  She never was mine
Look in my eyes
She has wasted my soul
She danced through my life
Without caring
Yes,she knew
She was just having fun
Listen ,you will hear
My heart tearing
I no longer walk
In the sun
That lifes  not fair
This is my understanding
My tears are the pain
Reesa never would see
So when you fly
Beware the landing
Or one day
You will be me.                   Hy
I was sitting at my computer
All intelligent and nonchalant
When a personality profile test popped up
In the most interesting of fonts

I decided this might be fun
So I clicked onto the site
And right away started answering questions
On what I did and didn't like

As soon as the test was over
With my feet planted firmly on the floor
I hit the button enter
There was immediately a knock upon the door

What appeared to be three business men
All in matching suits and ties
With darkened sunglasses all around
Like Hollywood Movie Stars in disguise

Before I knew what was happening
They threw a hood over my head
And carted me off without the slightest word
Not a single Howdy-Do was said

My new found friends threw me into the trunk
Of a waiting limousine
Where just as quickly as they arrived
We all left the scene

We came to a run down abandoned  Army base
In the middle of the desert
I had the feeling that what it was that was to come
Most certainly wouldn't be pleasant

They set me in the middle of a room
As men circled all around
I knew this had to do with the test
And wondered at what it was they found

When in walked "The Bossarooni"
And said don't worry son we're not here to mistreat cha
We're just curious as to why
You like anchovies instead of pepperoni on your pizza
As you can plainly see my poetry has turned to a more serious tone as of late...
If you even care to call it poetry...
But I am having fun!  WhooHoo!!!
Who's always taking pictures
Who's always on the scene
Snaps the Stars at their worst
Bikini thunder thighs with cottage cheese

He catches Stars out jogging
When they are a sweaty slimy mess
That is when this Paparazzi
Is at his photogenic best

He finds them out to dinner
Makes sure their forks are full
So he can catch them stuffing face
Halle Berry...you've just been schooled

The Stars have no idea how much
It is that they need him
To keep their names in the press
And their butts down at the gym

He loves the feeling that he gets
Adrenalin rush that keeps him high
Never is a job complete
Till he can make a Big Star cry

There's not a project that he won't take on
The one in which he is most proud
The pic of the President having lunch with the aliens
That photo shop was his brain child

So give it up for the Paparazzi
Who entertains in the grocery isle every day
Giving us all the latest scoop
On who is and isn't gay

Yes, without the Paparazzi
We would never be in the know
And now knowing all that Hollywood does
We can be thankful for a life that's dull!
I pulled an old photograph
Out of a lonely box
Laying on the side of the road in a ditch
Half submerged with a broken lock

The first photo was of a girl
No more than the age of ten
From that moment forward
Is where the journey began

I found it strange that every shot she was in
She appeared alone
Yes, she stood in every picture by herself
As I watched her grow

I saw one in her teenage years
In a captured moment where she was deep in love
The grin she had from ear to ear
Told the story well enough

Time moves on rather quickly
And so did the photos of her life
I came next to a picture where
She became someones wife

Shortly after there was a photo
Where you could see her husband went off to war
It showed in the sadness of her eyes
That he never did return

Just by the expression on her face
I knew what she was going through
And that the love they both had shared
Is what she had most valued

From that point on there was photo after photo
Where she had never found another
It showed in the deepening lines across her face
Her husband had been her only lover

The last picture that I came to
Was of a woman on her death bed
That is when I closed the box
And never opened it again
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