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Meagan Moore Jan 2014
Press me into the mossed tree
flanked in auric diaspora
lifting billowing dress with one hand
pressing it with mine into the drape of fabric
framed by tree bark divets
breath incumbent
drifting in mellowed heaves
heavy against my frame
pulse cadence
requisite engorging
blood thinned
eyes dilated
spine *****
pinning me
expectancy
pelvic tilt
sacral arch
calf raking thigh
I climb you
Meagan Moore Jul 2014
My transient echo
Seething with energy some
Or none or any at all
Except the one
Quanta that renders
Me real and
Not.
Meagan Moore Jan 2014
I - stricken biped
Reside
Arranged on patina of dust
Compacted from its own breadth and comingled humid vacillations
Misplaced intent resides carking upon my ribcage
Cerebral reliquary reprises
Enunciating: distaste – mediocrity – insufficiency
Clandestine exhalation configuration obliges principal
Luminous descants evade ebullition bound in stained crystal
Eupnea elapsed - foreboding
Enigma binds frame to pith
* Written about how my hurt seizes and aches as each memory of Eric and I comes up - 11/23/13
Meagan Moore Feb 2014
Popular
Radio, TV, and Internet
Rap
Recordings of
Religious
Responding’s to
Right and left hemispheres of brain with
Rituals of
Rock and roll.
Myths regarding
The role of
Silence and the
Western classical
World.
Meagan Moore Jul 2014
You’ve discovered that the forces of gravity are enormous
But to explain why they are not, physicists needed a new theory
A new vision of the atom
Constant overlapping and splitting through time
Transactional existence
What might have been an abstraction
Remains a perpetual possibility
Meagan Moore Jan 2014
autumnal leaves
frost brittled lattice
under their own weight
crunch

exposed nerves
toes gasp through clay
fatigue threatens clench
yet splayed arms extend

heartwood congeals
coercing ebullience to Earth
intrusting tendril
beneath edged billows
scalping innate patina
Meagan Moore Jan 2014
Whilst licking the salt from the niche
betwixt thumb and index
my eyes tilt into
your mutually skewed gaze

Your tongue grazes
your fleshy recess in unison.

Escapade gleaned
From occipital across
somatic plane
Wanton brow flourish
signs antic invitation

Insistence consortia encodes
in labyrinthine circling hips
Rushing urgency surges in acknowledged wake
Meagan Moore Oct 2016
A moment's acquaintance with the scintilla convenes as a gallant trail blaze through a dilation of the universe.
A dismantling into compulsion and magnetics.
Meagan Moore Feb 2014
Bowed smirk
Arches and looses
Into redolent heart

Your rogue smile
Stained my blouse
Lilting membrane into dye
Shallow pools rendered deep
Inundated

And thusly, mottled heart sank
Drawing lung chords in
Evinced exhale
Meagan Moore Jan 2014
your acumen in ripping my clothes off
your exhale
executed succinctly in shallow lung
puckered alveoli - clenched
resonates as my own
Meagan Moore Jan 2014
On wet sand
my own hand lethargically drags index nail into unplanned pierced hearts

The deep blue babble froths
disparaging echoes spume in unison

moon lumen
proffers effulgent glints of my own frame

Imprecise recollections
Intone lackadaisical exhalations

Plunging my fist into the dune
I seek shells to listen to mottled heart

None found
I drop my curls onto the punctured heart
Listening to the ocean’s instead
Meagan Moore May 2015
I’ll drift into waters warmth,
pretend it is same heat as your hands
then, crank up the heat
and scald my flesh into the same burning regret
5/11/15
Meagan Moore Feb 2014
In this way the dross is removed
No one knows yet exactly what they are
This does not mean
that certain human kinds are real
while others are not.
The world I am talking about
has been created
to reflect
each person’s deepest image
of themselves.

One spring morning three years ago,
sensing that his sight had been restored,
he emerged into the light of day.
Meagan Moore May 2015
I’ve yet to know a simple “hello”
Each exhale coalesces into a vast universe potentially forming
Myself, and the other dissipate
5/11/15 (I'll rework this at another time)
Meagan Moore Feb 2014
Island in gathered
Lavender sheets
Lilliputian dregs congeal
- Missed shots in the dark

Slack-mouth “no”
Echoes in peeling paint

Globules of restrained ***
Hollow my form

I touch my own lips
Not consenting to their last
Tryst.

Marlboro reds cling to
Salivary memory
Turning in my tongue –
Tucked along the
Cusp of my teeth

Pressing
Trying to expel the taste
I spit

Flecks spatter amidst
His-release…
This was written from a prompt in class. We were instructed to write from "the shadow," or the darkness within. I was given the words "****** *******." I went into the shadow, and I am not certain if I like what came out, but I will not ignore what did surface.
Meagan Moore Jun 2015
I wish to show you the sun you’ve introduced my bones
Your spectral class hums convective plasmoid origin
Conducting soft rays as symphonies through my form
Articulating blood cell’s lattice prismatic
Alighting from within each facet integral
Of kaleidoscopic ebullience
6/23/15
Meagan Moore Jan 2014
He was convinced art would divulge darkness from him that no one could handle
In keeping his darkness, he lost me
Perhaps he thought he would lose himself if he let someone else have it?
A diagnosis is poison – it’s finite when finite does not exist.
It’s a cancer patient thinking there is only one answer, not seeking other answers.
It’s a phobia of negligible ratio that someone else likely made up.

He was trying to be perfect –
Scripting a persona to which no other was privy
I wanted his grit – the raw effulgent
I wanted him more than he wanted himself

The prescriptions knew him better than himself –
He readily swallowed the silica coated hurdle
Prolonging acceptance – exploration
Indemnified by a system seeking newspapers
Draped over ***** puddles
Meagan Moore Jan 2014
Raw
Flesh collision
Hews the body
Lilliputian flecks coalesce
Dust motes cling
In dilapidated spheres
Dawn’s menagerie
Enunciating their form
In blatant form and elongated shadow
Meagan Moore Mar 2015
“Swallowing Pearls and Lace”
“How can I get you to go down on me,”
he asked, without preamble.
His voice, nervous,
laced with strength
hums through her form,
summoning
a tatting of ***.

I moved my entire form
Across the room
Pushing his solar plexus
With index finger
The wingback chair collecting
His form – assuaging my intent.

Retreating nine steps
To gather
my acumen in dripping my clothes off
Adroit pivot
portent gaze
locked
exteroception - engaged

His exhale
executed succinctly in shallow lung
puckered alveoli –
Clenched -
resonates as my own.

Pearls scooped catatonic
atop lingering breast ascension - alone
Remain –
Summoning brine.

I taste his pulse
Derma puckering sweat
Redolent vapor
Knotting between each pore – skin taut
declaring his need.

Fingers supporting my upper weight
I glide - crawling
pressing half inch spurs into the carpet

Lackadaisical dactyl dance
Seizes
muscle calf to thigh
Invoking listless leg drape

Pausing
Warm breath – rendered
Upon knee cap parallel
Framing shoulders

Engorging - in aching silence
Pulse thick, wrought in shaft

Kneeling
Primed
Proud

I flick the button
From slit fabric recess
Cupping palms under thigh,
rendering garment to puddle

half-in – half-out
whole
chthonic shaft to palette

Sliding exhale
to mound
lax jaw
focus
His iris entreats -
narrowed corneal withdrawal

Oblong lip array surrounds
Supping the creamy, coppery,
Smoky, saline

Latent dribble invokes my tongue
Furl about lip cusp
Absorbing globule
Into slaked smile.
(Revision 1 - Shifted into 1st Person)
Meagan Moore Feb 2014
“How can I get you to go down on me,”
he asked, without preamble.
His voice, nervous,
laced with strength
hums through her form,
summoning
a tatting of ***.

She moves her entire form
Across the room
pushing solar plexus
With index finger
The wingback chair collecting
His form – assuaging her intent.

Retreating nine steps
To gather
Her acumen in dripping her clothes off
Adroit pivot
portent gaze
locked
exteroception - engaged

His exhale
executed succinctly in shallow lung
puckered alveoli - clenched
resonates as her own.

Pearls scooped catatonic
atop lingering breast ascension - alone
Remain –
Summoning brine.

She tastes his pulse
Derma puckering sweat globules
Redolent aeriform vapor corpuscles
declaring his need.

Fingers supporting her upper weight
she glides - crawling
pressing half inch spurs into the carpet

Lackadaisical dactyl dance
Seizes
muscle calf to thigh
Invoking listless leg drape

Pausing
Warm breath – rendered
Upon knee cap parallel
Framing shoulders

Engorging - in aching silence
Pulse thick, wrought in shaft

Kneeling
Primed
Proud

She flicks the button
From slit fabric recess
Cupping palms under thigh,
She renders garment to puddle

half-in – half-out
whole
chthonic shaft to palette

Sliding exhale
to mound
lax jaw
focus
Iris entreats -
narrowed corneal withdrawal

Oblong lip array surrounds
Supping the creamy, coppery,
Smoky, saline inoculation.

Latent dribble invokes tongue
Furl about lip cusp
Absorbing globule
Into slaked smile.
Meagan Moore Jan 2014
I taste your pulse
derma puckering sweat globules
aeriform vapor corpuscles
declaring your need
embellishing sacral curvature
in mellowed diaspora
I glide closer upon the sheets drapes
fingers supporting my upper weight
pressing half inch spurs into the mattress
dragging my whole self towards you
for a kiss
Meagan Moore Jan 2014
Floating
engulfed in penny light

the coppery-brine amalgamation penetrates my mouth
swallowing
viscous globe of blood-riddled ***

the shards of shell
spines split by the tide
echo my sentiments

current eschews shallow alluvial grave
cognizant cicumvolution
ambient gyre
diffuses carapace shrapnel into my calves

gulls enigmatically screech-stripped
slap briny padded patterns into the shoreline
pausing only upon my primal glottal stop

toes curl about inundated sand
clouting divets shift
dilatory run – slammed inert by invariable wave

cochineal effluvium plumes lilt
crepuscular rays refract further distortions

Neath the water I blindly ***** my body
Ridged projections jut from smoothed flesh
Puckering at my own touch

I sink beneath atmosphere
liquescent folds embrace promptly
I drop beneath chaos

Bare palm dig into viscid terrain
rung after rung demanding presence into the depths
I claw forth onto a sand bar

emerging
shard flanked form
eyes blazing
cuticles numb

pulse flit
patina of blood and grit

Fulgent tread propels
Upon shore
I walk back to my residence
A warrior - mortal
plated in copper and brine
Meagan Moore Jan 2014
I tend
Like ambling child
To erector construction
Jamming thought in quip
Undoing linguistically threaded intersection
Hopefully without catch

I cogitate
I need supervision
Or I might gobble up the apparatus
Choking on a plastic word
Meagan Moore Jan 2014
the driftwood fits perfectly in my palm
I unspool the seaweed from its taper
furling it about my finger

my marriage to the sea was disputed
with a tiny crab that day
gentle tug-o-war with my heart
and my eruptive roar
echoing his staunch request
to keep his algae blanket - and home
the equivalent of a cardboard box in childhood
Meagan Moore Jan 2014
I love singular word responses -
they are like the blight that pushes
us further apart

In touchless departures
heart mottled by one-word bullets-
no need to bandage yet - more
wounds are to be incurred
Meagan Moore Jul 2014
Thousands of blooms
Pocked their bulbs, and
Leased heady perfumes into the vast sky

Purifying, and clinging amidst
The vapor of dawn

Saccahrine effusion descended
In co-mingled currents

Wafting in gentle benefaction
At your subtle passing

You could no longer afford
Your resting place
Liberation enveloped your form,
And you padded amidst
The perfume
Cloud stepping upon
Cloud
7/14/14
Meagan Moore Oct 2016
Ultimately, language will be replaced by subtleties.
The amplified magnitude of your true essence commingling amidst another's - unbounded and effortless.
Parallel perspectives - instinctive and raw
Each quark and quirk facing the void
Evoking recognition of confidence wrought amidst the entwined advent of your ability to manifest emergent and fresh.
Hewn vibrationally in the full spectrum of presence,  we lightly upon wave form.
All aspects of life require wave forms. Light, voice, thought, pulse, etc. This poem entreats upon such thoughts.
Meagan Moore Jan 2014
sometimes I capture a living one
in my plastic bags recess
misplaced amid other shells
they offer a distinct oceanic waft
expiry proffers olfactory comfort
When I was younger I gathered variable coquina's from the beach. I did not understand that some of them were living, and I remember finding the smell in my collection bag being comforting - then one day I realized that I had killed living creatures. The smell is still comforting on some level.
Meagan Moore Oct 2015
In sandalwood grove
I learned the echo of water to your form
My hands cupping clay-stained water
And smearing the settling sediments
About your prone frame

I kissed resin from between your knees
And beckoned hippo’s bray in dusks heat
Tangerine rinds cusp dipped dew between
Your collar and my own
As I newly learned the friction of water about my body
Sinking headily into tones of each other’s woods
Meagan Moore Feb 2014
Collective heart
Aspirations lifted
Absolute focus
History beckons
Emotional spectacle
Capture supremacy
Winter will not be a burden
But a curtain raised by spirit
It needs some work.
Meagan Moore Jul 2014
I know all the notes of your voice,
All of the muscled tones and shifts
Which compose the ballads of your
Invocations of my form – both near
And through device.

I know
All the strength, flex, and power
Of your heart, and the way
Your being charges the space
Around
I know the chords
Plucked within me, and my breath
Caught taut on hearts pause that
Vacillates summoning plunges
And a vast heave
Of the fleshed lung.
Meagan Moore Mar 2014
Film developer cacophonies, and journalistic hoarding
My friends wanted to record our last year –
Accurately – not succinctly
Abstractly – and yet, directly, bluntly
Vividly – in photography, quote notebooks, Dictaphone diatribes

That’s hilarious – scribble it down.
Can you repeat your brilliance?
If you could paraphrase that – well…what would you say?
Take another one. She wasn’t smiling.

I don’t want to smile.

My friend sidles up beside me – beaming grin
Sticking her fingers into my mouth
Pulling opposite and up
And her fingers tasted like
The musty pages of books without pictures.
You
Meagan Moore Jan 2014
You
You are the subtle, humbled coalescing of honesty
Enigma with no undertaking to divulge process, purpose
Merely appreciation

— The End —