Body Parts

The holy two of us.
Danced bare naked in the acid rain.
Stripped tissue from bone.
Caused deep pain.
More pain than either ever knew.
Bi-laterally scarred.

Internal scarring.
Heart ripped out and left behind.
She left her heart in your bedroom.
Her head on the bus.
Left her memories in the dustbin.

All the memories of us.
Maybe not.
He's never forgot.
She left her womanhood there in his brain.
So he could fantasize about her as he plays.
She left her mouth in the spot,
The spot he loved it best.
I'll let him think and remember the rest.

It's so sad it all went rotten.
Let two crazy poets never forget.
Each others feelings deeply.
With never not an ounce of regret!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Not a wanderer stuck on the crest of lonely waves.
Nor running ragged on the sands of time.
Traipsing wearily through the wracks of sodden salty ****.
As cold water laps over their feet abandoned on craggy rocks.
Not always at sea.
Vagrant migrants.
From rock to rock.

Hark,
Ungodly whistling, clicking and howling.
Wailing and bemoaning.
Poseidon knows that they're around.
They strut around the rocks, all knowing.

Their lives they live as one of two.
Choose their one for life.
Should you see one in your salty path.
Foreboding spirit, a warning of turbulence to come.
A past sailor boy seen in totem of bird.
Not so swell, an evil omen.

Moons long past, the only witnesses to a killing crime.
Saw Albatross have his feet cruelly hewed.
Tobacco pouch for jack tar and his pals.
Ancient mariners in a doctrine of distortion.
Sky sailors slept on the wing over night.
Such misdemeanour,
Their perceptions were not right.
The birds perished in the dead of night.
As they did not ever rest in flight.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Hope is dangerous
Perhaps that's why it hangs around on street corners
And in doorways
Waiting to waylay me as I pass through
To get my morning coffee

I've been fighting with Hope
But it doesn't fight fair
It has a shiv that cuts deeply into my heart
And the parry fractures on my ulnae
Say more about its victory over my defenses
Than these inadequate words ever can.

Hope has a rap sheet a mile long
And when it comes knocking,
Part of me knows it would probably be better
To turn out the lights and pretend I'm not home

But I'm recklessly unafraid.
And the danger excites me.
And I climb on the back of Hope's motorcycle
Not caring that he's taking the curves too fast
And I let hope sneak me out of the house in the middle of the night
Running away together into the night
Knowing full well that when the morning comes,
He will be long gone.

Hope has me sitting in this car in an abandoned shipyard
Waiting for the drop
Believing, against all sanity, that you will show up
To make the exchange
To continue the deal.
Hope is reckless and fearless
Hope is the explanation behind every one of these scars

I haven't seen you in a long time, but
Foolishly, I still believe in your promise
And soon, the court date with Hope will come
And my love for you will stand trial
Though it's never been anything but innocent,
I know I would be found guilty, time and again
Hope blasphemously sits in the judges chair
Feet up on the railing
As he waits for you to show up and swear in.

Hope brokers back-door deals with me in the passenger seat
Leads me down dark alleys at 2 in the morning
Making promises nobody could ever keep
He keeps my bank account at an all-time low
He holds the gun to my ribcage in the tattoo parlor and asks, one more time
"Will this save you? Will this make you free?"

Hope is an exercise in flirtation with disaster
Except that Hope doesn't know how to flirt,
Doesn't do anything halfway -
It becomes an exercise in falling in love with disaster
Finding beauty in the broken things.

I'm begging you -
I know Hope is dangerous
But please don't tear him away from me
Dear god, please.
Because if you leave this time
If you fail me now
If you walk away, he walks with you.
Despair becomes my only company

And though dangerous, Hope is exciting
Despair just hands me the bottle of tequila
And shaking his head knowingly, tells me
To drink until it's empty
To say goodbye to you and Hope
The only way I can

Her own desire led her astray,
a smile from him was enough to ignite the fire.
The serpent wrapped itself around her neck. She couldn't run away,
She thought they were the enemy, she found her society so dire.

"Why linger here? Why turn another page?" She though to herself.
She walked to where she first died,
and there she commited suicide.

she sat in the kitchen
   frivolously underlining passages in her brand new bible
      nodding her head
      occasionally pressing her hands into her chest
"yes" she'd whisper
   with her blind eyes shut

         every ******* needs a crutch

every hour or so
she'd leave her hiding place
   to shove her misunderstanding in my face

"god only loves us if we ask him to"
"you're a sinner. your sins can only be cleansed with the blood of christ"
"our lives gain their only meaning when we ask christ into our hearts"

oh yeah?
   is that right?
      how'd he find any room in yours
      when you keep it bound up like a hostage?

i tried with all my might
   to remind myself that i am a spiritual being
   that i want no one to hurt
      even those who waste their precious seconds plotting ways to hurt others
   to craft everyone their own kind of pain that they can name
      and later
         help you look up a cure in a little black troubleshooting guide

but i cracked
and i snapped
and i didn't feel bad

don't you get it?
are you paying attention to what you read?!

the whole ******* story is about LOVE...
   about loving everyone
not only under certain circumstances
   but every second of every day
the same way we're told that he loved

calling yourself a christain is the farthest thing that you can do from actually being christ-like
  
he was a good guy
      like robin hood
         not oprah
   you won't get a free car
   or fleeting fame
      all you'll gain is peace
      and clearly that's what you really need

but you also need to remember
   that if he's watching everyone's every move
      like you say
   then he too sees you going out of your way to ruin someone elses day
he sees you ignore the hungry man asking for change
he sees you preaching things you've never practiced
he sees you looking for ways to bend the rules without breaking them

if christ came back
   he wouldn't be the sharp-dressed man seated up front
      whom you try to charm the pants off of with your faith every week
he'd be the homeless man outside sitting by the steps in silence
whom you marched right passed
   without so much as a glance
      or a simple hello

         he'd know you misunderstood the entire message
         flash a toothy grin
         and go right back to spitting prophesies into his brown paper bag
             
            but most importantly
                  he'd never rub it in your face that he thinks you've got it **wrong

From my Dark Watcher series:

I walk within the darkness,
a soul ****** to search,
throughout eternity, lost to
the ray’s healing light.

A cold that has invaded,
and thus holds reign, over
a still heart that cries out for peace.
How is it then, that as I gaze into your eyes,
passion’s inferno burns deep.

A shimmering of warmth,
to soften Hell’s wrath?
Or a dream that refuses to fade,
into the mists of eternal darkness.

Moistness I feel, as she lays her
alabaster cheek against mine.
Is it her tears, or my own?
As I close my eyes upon the coming
of dawn, she lies within my embrace.
A forbidden love forever mourned.


Kathleen M. Kohl/Levinski

the only thing that i care for
i ran it off
like a tabby in a window begging for a plate of fish
like a beautiful bloom i adored
and never watered
like an open door
steaming in rays from a cresting dawn
thats slammed shut

i keep the plate out now
waiting for a menacing meow
i pour water into the ***
hoping a sprig would spring again
all the doors are open now
even the cabinets
all in vain

god.
now im living begging to be annoyed
wasting potting soil
blinded by golden pain

One

The strands of hair you shed
Is my childhood

Love, now, is
Little feet that search each strand,
Toddling.

Mother’s name is written
In every filament
Of your grayed hair

Where were you
In the days when hair
Used to be worn in two plaits?

Two

One night,
Thinking I might get cold
You gave me a blanket

It was given you
By your mother
When you felt cold

This morning,
Daughter sleeps, covered by it

Which sunshine took away our chill?

Stone cold, the blackening sky, stole our field of flowers,
soon seeds of dandelions washed away
in watercolor charcoal skies
gone grey.

Tomorrow
all the brightest colors
a mourning
away.