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RCraig David Oct 2016
The Professor drones on.
I glimpse at my phone...quick-link to trending news... "Grease thieves"  the headline reads.... Envirogeeks stealing french fry grease to run their old diesel tour bus. Willie's on the road again it seems.
I imagine 60's dressed high school girls stealing DVD's of the classic movie musical and every girl I every dated singing the part of Oliva Newton-John in all the songs.  The old love-crush imagined from my boyhood brain surfaces.
The long legs of the most beautiful fair-haired Australian beauty. In that last scene wearing those tight leather jeans... "Oh Sandy"....Don’t believe me, ask your girlfriend the first thing that pops in her head when you say the word “Grease” won’t be french fry.
Wait candy!...Freeing my ceased-up palm from the creases of my  deep-seated thesis folders, releases my pack’s last handful of Reese's Pieces. Nearly asleep, I study the candy's ingredients as Dr. ancient geek waxes eloquent about Theseus, redemption and ancient Greece. The very parallels rule my brain insanity.
The oil from Palm trees burned bright that night the ancient Greeks create a democratic state gathered in an ancient auditorium designed for debate or education or to tempt our fetes and fates with historical songs, love stories and tragedies of the day.
All so my present day brain could reference the social tragedy love songs of "Grease".... the unchanged, tour-bus-fueling power of oil and grease stolen in the name of freedom, a ancient Greek democratic freedom voted on in a auditorium the very design of this Greek History classroom copies.
******, why are they putting Palm Oil in my Reese's Pieces?!?!
11:34am starts.
Please master can I touch your cheeck
please master can I kneel at  your feet
please master can I loosen your blue pants
please master can I gaze at your golden haired belly
please master can I have your thighs bare to my eyes
please master can I take off my clothes below your chair
please master can I can I kiss your ankles and soul
please master can I touch lips to your hard muscle hairless thigh
please master can I lay my ear pressed to your stomach
please master can I wrap my arms around your white ***
please master can I lick your groin gurled with blond soft fur
please master can I touch my tongue to your rosy *******
please master may I pass my face to your *****,
please master order me down on the floor,
please master tell me to lick your thick shaft
please master put your rough hands on my bald hairy skull
please master press my mouth to your *****-heart
please master press my face into your belly, pull me slowly strong thumbed
till your dumb hardness fills my throat to the base
till I swallow and taste your delicate flesh-hot ***** barrel veined Please
Mater push my shoulders away and stare in my eyes, & make me bend over
        the table
please master grab my thighs and lift my *** to your waist
please master your hand's rough stroke on my neck your palm down to my
please master push me, my feet on chairs, till my hole feels the breath of
        your spit and your thumb stroke
please master make my say Please Master **** me now Please
Master grease my ***** and hairmouth with sweet vaselines
please master stroke your shaft with white creams
please master touch your **** head to my wrinkled self-hole
please master push it in gently, your elbows enwrapped round my breast
your arms passing down to my belly, my ***** you touch w/ your fingers
please master shove it in me a little, a little, a little,
please master sink your droor thing down my behind
& please master make me wiggle my rear to eat up the ***** trunk
till my asshalfs cuddle your thighs, my back bent over,
till I'm alone sticking out, your sword stuck throbbing in me
please master pull out and slowly roll onto the bottom
please master lunge it again, and withdraw the tip
please please master **** me again with your self, please **** me Please
Master drive down till it hurts me the softness the
Softness please master make love to my ***, give body to center, & **** me
        for good like a girl,
tenderly clasp me please master I take me to thee,
& drive in my belly your selfsame sweet heat-rood
you fingered in solitude Denver or Brooklyn or ****** in a maiden in Paris
please master drive me thy vehicle, body of love drops, sweat ****
body of tenderness, Give me your dogh **** faster
please master make me go moan on the table
Go moan O please master do **** me like that
in your rhythm thrill-plunge & pull-back-bounce & push down
till I loosen my ******* a dog on the table yelping with terror delight to be
Please master call me a dog, an *** beast, a wet *******,
& **** me more violent, my eyes hid with your palms round my skull
& plunge down in a brutal hard lash thru soft drip-fish
& throb thru five seconds to spurt out your ***** heat
over & over, bamming it in while I cry out your name I do love you
please Master.

                                        May 1968
You are my foundation
You are my rock
A shoulder to lean on
To whom I can talk

When we are together
I am at peace
I'm your bearing
You are my grease

Twenty five years of bliss
Is what we had
Proud you're my wife
Our daughter her dad

I hope twenty five more years
Is what's in store
When those are done
I'll need twenty five more
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
The numerals II Sir I to another
ABC* confession
DEF feared_***
My bowl spilled my
heart soup

Have Merci Beau-coup
The S was left alone my survival
Do you love my eyes primal
He points widely- tribal his
marriage finger my editorial
Be kinder strawberry sugar high
Do you want me to bite down
on my wafers
-I for the Ivy League his polo loafers

He's my (Lifesavers)
The bow and arrow I met my
dark sparrow what a rainbow
So intrigued my mystery arrival

Why on earth do you want me down?

To focus staying upright but kinda
Tight-Net gown

I am not a falling we have eyes
The face to face prize to be eyed
The Carribean
That Native American
Johnny Depp
When I make my first movie wish

The pirate birdseye rash
Al Dente ziti  Eggplant Parmigiana
The headless horse Dante always neighs
kills me on
Valentine day hearts lucky horseshoe

Eyes have frozen bird's eye
They thought I was
the sweet pea
He knocked me off
My Twitter tweets
I am the writer don't flood
My words everything is shaking
This is the Godly earth

So confused we feel-tightly squeezed
The earthquake head over heels down to our knees

She is sipping her tears down
In her chamomile tea thumbs up
The world is evaporating
like the dead sea
Bring everything alive I am
counting to 1*2*3*4*5

Down to my last words
I'm staying alive my life is more than
A Saturday Night Fever
But feeling down to my sunrise
Your heart deeply graved
I will betcha life has
more downs downward

Even when you wake -up upward

No way out of expensive
price tags we need to save
The give or take to remake
We need to finish not at
the end of the line

Where we were left off
Whats yours is mine

Sometimes you think
you are down
But life has you
well planted

To say I do
With his mind enchanted
Let me go up---++

The spirit is a complicated thing
I got wits to carry on anything

I need more guts
Now Bill said I do
Oh! No love me to please
me as I do

My Bill is always waiting
at the upside down table
Like the will-hunting
For God sake who is on first
Going up with the bucket list
Feeling down to adore me
You're going down Oh! Christ
Don't push my buttons
the elevator
I saw your Realtor
going to
The Skyline Hilton

I-O-U trillion hearts that were
down and wasted

Falling eyelashes no surprise
That stock exchange stars fault

Money lip up and honey
eyes down
Do you want this in singing
or shall we both go down

I'm going to wash that
man right out
? And sent him on
the way he's gone
The brainwashing Scientology
misery loves religious company
Like Humpty dump me
His "snoop dog so sad eating
like Pig whistle steak
Peeping Tom sales week
Anthony Perkins down to seek

The sprinkler shower
Hitchcock scene French Tickler
At Tiffany's Audrey
breakfast jewels Ruby
Hanky Panky pancakes

Like the Amazon in Prime
With fruit slashed smile
Love to love you baby at
Perkins eggs are dreamy
The shoot of ringlets hair screaming
Niagara fall and action roll fall down

You're a shade too hurtful
The red-brown chair or orange perk me
up the crown the Gala gown me

Life is so unkind why
do people smile
Going in and out the door
The rush the high like you could
mop her curls up but your hand down

Feeling inside the apple of the core

The teapot all fenced in pretending
The downspout- you're up-sprout
He's the roundabout -handle
A stranger is routing someone
is always cursing
You're going down

The game sports ball out
And your always looking
down at me when you
talk me out

Like a ring fight
falling black eye
Where is our coffee down
to nothing, she got a pink eye

Her words spilled over
upside down
pineapple printed dress

Having a breakdown
Do you want me down
I am the New York City girl
A clap of party hands

A figure of speech when you get
lonely go downtown
To my number
address 13
what a lowdown
In the Wizard of Oz,
the  cowardly lion
crashed the window
My only lip Solo so low

My computer froze my red
rose wilted
I couldn't bring my smile
back to suit you

They were jumping for joy
Do you really want to
love a tomboy
Almond eyes of candy
Grease me down
My pretty pink illegally
Blonde pill
Google on down with Bill

Joining the falling down crowd
But no one had a clue my face was
falling down all-stars feeling blue
When we're down and about or feeling all over the place the roundabout we cannot get over something that we go more down and down but be pulling our weight going up but who will fill our heart when you just about had enough
Jay 1988 Sep 2016
The red stained cloth stroked the plastic sheet in a greasy down town café
Sally swept the hard yellow floors, wiped those grease filled walls and washed the dirt away
Put her apron on its hook, took one final look and said “See you in the morning”
Sam smiled as he turned the closed light on and slept until the dawn
The dawn came round faster than a comet in the night his eyes shut then they opened
People filled the greasy café looking for something more than the food that should be condemned
In walked Sally from Manhattan she took her place by Sam
Her daughter slipped in the side door, in search of the ideal man
Sophie was 4 years younger, her body showed that awful well
Her eyes lit those greasy café walls like an angel lit up hell
And the smell of grease around the room turned to roses and perfume
Sam took one look at Sophie and from that day was doomed
Another day was over, my god another day had begun
In his sleep as he lie next to his girl of seven years Sam dreamed of another one
And Sophie took home jail release boys and thugs from the hard estate
Sally worked the café and swept the rooms from morning until late
She’d get home and see Sophie with some **** and say get with someone like Sam
The jail **** drug runner got given the kick in place of another man
One night Sam was cleaning up and Sally cleaned up too
They tired from the day’s work and the sentence of the greasy spoon
"Are you happy with that 7 year girl back home or have you yet got that awful itch
Sophie’s at home why don’t you go see her and together you can sit"
Sam wipes the sweat from his head the temptation wears him down
Shuts out the light of the old closed sign “Sally I’ll see you around”
Sally prays her daughter just finds an honest man
Some kisses in the rain on James Street, a ring and then some babies with some one like Sam
She sits over an empty coffee cup, in some empty coffee bar
See’s her old friend Orion and wished upon a star
Sam’s walking home all alone, in the shadows Sophie stands
Have you ever seen such perfection on those perfectly manicured hands?
Sam’s stood in shock as she placed a kiss softly on his lips
Her face comes from the shadows his hands rest on her hips
Grease mixed with perfume to create something I can’t even tell
He remembers that girl waiting home and knows he’s going to hell
But if hell tastes like this tongue that Sophie placed on mine
Then lord for me that’s fine
I’ll pay the price, do the sentence like a man and do my handed time
In the shadows they discover each other, he never knew she had a tattoo there
Sophie’s tongue rests on Sam’s ear and her nose buried in his hair
Sally’s still wishing in her coffee cup completely unaware
And Sam’s girl back home ain’t got no clue as she’s sitting in the chair
Two hours later exhausted by love and everything he discovered that night
He explored the beauty of the world in the shadows out of sight
In the arms of whom he dreamed of my god my dreams were not enough
To tell me how your face would look when to you I made sweet love
In at 2 he walked back through his broken hinged front door
He see’s that seven year girl fast asleep on the hard wooden polished floor
She wakes and kissed his hard neck and said you smell of sweet perfume
Have you really been working to pay the bills at the condemned greasy spoon ?
He smiles “the grease smelt of roses tonight and I got covered in that rose smelling grease”
Sophie watches the silhouette of Sam and his 7 year loved huddled together from the deserted evening street
Sophie sits by her mother under Orion and prays one day to settle down; Sam goes to bed one more night and dreams of his dance in the shadows down town

He lie in bed next to number seven, hides beneath the covers and the shame
Said as long as I live I know that grease and dirt will never smell the same
Jordan Frances May 2014
You're like a grease stain
A soot smudge
A skid mark
On a newly waxed floor
A clean shirt
A recently washed car.

You turn
Everything you touch to dirt.
It's a blessing for you
As you love watching decimation
But it curses everything in your world
Destruction is your favorite passion.

I wish
I could tell her what you've done
How none of it is fair
How, although you desired me
You never cared
About what I wanted and needed from you.

I cannot wait
Until she see how you are
When things don't go your way.
If she still loves you then
You two deserve each other.

You may think
It was no big deal
Considering you make excuses for yourself
And you'll deny it
Until the day God takes you home
Or sends you to where you belong.

It marked my life
With a big bold X
It was my scarlet letter
And yet
I could not even control
What you did to me.

I lost friends
I lost trust
I lost control
I lost everything
All because
You couldn't stand hearing the word

So, darling
It was a huge deal
As you left a grease stain.
Now it seems as though it is impossible
To wash me clean.
Spencer Dennison Sep 2014
I have grown, all around me,
gardens and hedges of barbed wire.
My heart is a grease fire,
constantly pumping fumes
that exit through each eye
every time I try to stare someone down.
I suppose that in this circus act of anger,
even I will start to look like a clown.

I have always known, in spite of myself,
that anger is not a civilized emotion.
But the motion put behind it
moves nations.
Allowing us to take vacations
away from sense and logic.
Just letting vengeance be an object to be obtained,
not letting our better judgement be stained
with petty things like love and trust.

I suppose even an executioner's blade,
will at some point begin to rust.
Because anger is a grease fire
that burns for a long time,
but not forever.
I don't think myself to be too clever
to fall victim to these pitfalls
and make my words into spitballs.
We all do at some point in life,
it's part of the human condition.

I've never been good at math,
but I know enough about addition
to know that if you take away
more than what you give,
you'll in the end be left with less.
Sometimes, all we are is a bubbling hot mess
and we feel we have nothing.
But if you have nothing to give,
give nothing as if it were something.
You might be surprised by what happens.
ipoet Jul 2012
I have always liked,
Defiant Africans,

Nelson, Patrice, Kenyatta,
Martin Luther King,

Groovy black men,
******* with attitude,

But they intimidate me,
Black men.

Freedom fighters,
Bar room brawlers,

And I rise from sleep,
Sheened in sweat,

Running away,
Scribbling my number,
On scraps of paper,

On foreheads and trousers,
On outstretched palms,

And I’m breathing heavily,
Feeling stained,

That one there,

The white man in Navy uniform,
With hair on his *****,

I know him,


He smells of garlic and grease,
And my black friends call me,
******, *****, *****.

Will he take the lion tooth offered,
Will he make the tribal dance?

-I can teach him to love the earth,
Teach him to plant his feet in, deep-

I ******* from sleep, supported
By thick, colonial, muscle.

I am forging steel,
Industrial iron,

I am engineering a white lover
Beneath the sheets, whilst

Apologising to freedom fighters,
Who call me ******, *****, *****.
Morgan Mercury Oct 2018
I once thought there wasn't any life outside of this town,
but I was okay with that because it had everything I needed.
But what do I know?
We are all so young,
running through parks,
climbing up mountaintops.
Strolling past all the shops
and driving around this town going nowhere in particular,
I thought that it simply could not get better than this.

We loved each other like the stars
I thought that nothing could separate us.
We were sure to last,
but little did we know
that all these days will belong to the past,
and everything that we always did
now live on pages on thousands of papers
and in pictures tucked away in a box of old things.

Happiness was in the air that day
when we all were together once again.
The moon shined bright that night,
lighting the path that we once drove down every day.
This city just seems so small now that I have broken all its walls.

I drive past all the places we left marks on in this city.
The now vacant houses that once held so many memories,
the lunch table where our love blossomed,
the midnight drives to the movies,
getting excited over slushies,
and the lakes we learned to float.
I look back on all these places
and think about all the things we ever did,
I simply thought that it could not get any better than this.

Setting the new year on fire.
Dancing to the sounds of Grease.
Picking peaches in celebration of spring.
Watching all the bands we ever loved.
I would forget all my stress and worries thinking about it all.
Can it get any better than this?
I want to thank this town for all the stories I wrote.
All the times we felt like children.
All the times we rose with the sun.
All the times I felt loved by all the people that were my stars.

As I'm driving through this town and watch it grow smaller in my eyes,
I imagine a time when I was not alone.
I know getting older can seem quite strange at times,
but what do I know?
All I know is that there is just so much to see,
and sometimes the grass isn't always green as it used to be.
But as long as I have these memories,
it couldn't get any better than this.
Inspired by South London Forever by F+TM
Abbigail  Feb 2014
Time Travel
Abbigail Feb 2014
Mom makes you smile for a picture in front of the bus
on your very first day of school,
"You only have one first day of kindergarten!" she says.
But every time you hear the scratching of leather seats,
You are back to that day
When tears rolled off your tiny pink cheeks,
onto the front of your Lion King tee shirt
The first time you ever had to be afraid that you
would never see her again.

Brother tells you not to worry about the boy that bothered you,
the impact of a fist on his right eye is a warning
that guarantees he'll never disrespect a girl again.
But every time you step in the pebbles on a playground,
You're still struggling to run just slow enough not to slip
yet fast enough to keep from being caught and held captive
by the first boy to ever kiss you without permission.

Grandma tells you to "appreciate today" every day
because you'll never get it back.
But every time you hear the crash of waves against a shoreline,
You're there with her in your favorite place in the world.
And the sun is overhead with looks of never coming down,
But you'd be okay if it did because you swear these colors of
the sunset don't exist when you see it from anywhere else
And you never feel so close to God as you feel right here.

Dad is sad when you're growing up
because you'll only be little once.
But every time you get the surprising scent of metal and grease,
You're five years old again and dad is getting home from work
and he lifts you up in a hug and you bury your face in his shirt and breathe in,
And you're confident that he will carry you to bed later that night
on that same shoulder when you fall asleep on the couch.

You're told over and over to forgive
and your mother keeps trying, too.
But every time a green van passes by,
you're a vulnerable twelve-year-old with a record that says easy prey
and you're back at that police station and you're both still crying
and forgiveness still seems so far away.

Everyone tells you that "first love"
is something you only feel once.
But every time September rolls around,
You're still staring back into the first eyes to look at you in awe,
His palms feel sweaty in yours but you don't mind.
And you can still taste his lips and smell the sweet mint Stride on his breath
and you feel everything.

It’s strange how they promise that you can't turn back time,

yesterday is gone,

today will only happen once.

Because I go back all the time;
And I still feel everything.
Jordan Rowan Nov 2015
Send my dreams to the paper press
I've got too much to confess
This whole mind is a mess
And it's mine
It's all I could find
As I was spending too much time
Screaming and crying

**** my brothers in the Middle East
Let their souls be released
As the mongrel dogs have a peaceful feast
On our blood
Down in the mud
When it's someone you don't love
You don't even shrug

Break my bones over color pride
Don't you see what I have inside?
For my thoughts, I must die
Or else I'm a joke
Lost within the smoke
If I'm not rich then I must be broke
A dying man unknown

Make the streets a place of peace
Instead of hate and bombing grease
Power only makes us weak
To ourselves
To you and myself
Take a long look at yourself
And you can tell

The morning comes and someone's gone
Sent away to a funeral song
They lost their life being young
And still bright
Now they only see the night
As their mother tries to sleep at night
Without life

I'm dead and gone someday soon
But still I love each sun and moon
As they pass over my room
I kneel down
I start to look around
I start to love everything I've found
And I'm proud
Francie Lynch Sep 2018
I've used them on my windows
To see the clear outside,
If I read the Op-eds,
I shudder, shuttered and hide.

I've spread them 'neath my plates and cups,
My shelves all neat and tidy;
But the headlines made it clear to me
My glass is more half empty.

They had a place in the litter box
For **** to scratch and squat;
I laid them round my garden plants,
They made fine insect traps.
Rolled and twirled they'd start a fire,
I could fold them into hats.
They cleaned the grease from BBQs,
And they're safe to pick up glass.
Crumple them for packaging,
They work as school book covers;
Add water and some flour,
To shape papier mache lovers.
Fold seeds in them to germinate,
Then use them for compost;
There's many ways to employ
Your Times and local Post.

But I won't subscribe to Dailies
For the felling of our trees;
And yet I miss my papers,
And the ways they worked for me.
But when enthroned,
You'll hear me grouse,
There's no **** paper in this ****-house.

My cell works well to scroll and swipe,
But it's only good for a virtual wipe.

— The End —