head to toe kissing


I   the mundane

moonlight madnesses, a possessive noun,
commissions gravitational pulls that disobey and obey
laws of interstellar loving. The antique modalities once and forever, forever laying still, stilled in places of antiquities and historical need, are thundershower and hail rudely reawakened, the undertow of
pull and push, the yanking hands  of need for others, for others,
it’s the explosive-knowledge, the opening of the old kitbag of perpetual principles, that crazy head to toe kissing is no less necessary, more so, than the computation of the total breaths mundane, unnoticed even now as I write of them, that we will count from that very first, in deed, they are one and the same, like the same
kisses given from head to toe

II   the profane

at the first, the body insists, I am but a long haul trailer, no taxi me,
cargo and passengers, are my quatrain accompaniments,
traveling companions boon, my own toons, too soon disembarked,
songs of parents and lovers, children and others, your visage passed
without your permission, but with your happy encouragement,
to generations that will see things that futurists dare not
even mention, but the profane urge to warn them all, kisses from head to toe, elevates, and overcomes...so when most of my names dusted with forgetfulness, lost in the waves, my scorching soft lips will be recalled just as an airy flight of light brushing upon a newborn’s eyelids just at the moment of birth.  A rustling more felt than heard, the ****** and bruised carrying body will sensate and instantly forget, but nonetheless transmit genetically, that the profane of birth and life renewing can be only washed away, when past and future, recalled and recreated, kisses from head to toes, dripping with softening saltwater tears, a chemical organic reagent of creation,
inside the histories of head to toe kissing

III  the insane

so when, somewhere, some place, a man’s body prepares  
tous ses adieux, his memory foolishly sane and strong,
his wasted paper bag container ship, rust bucketed,
crinkled and wrinkled, skin folding in on itself, hanging to bones
by stretched sinews and tendons that no longer tend to business,
loosened and gangly, they hang on barely to the bare nakedness of
evolutionary processes, mostly not, offset, by the tenderizing effects of kisses, from invisible attendees,  unconscious they,
willingly and unwillingly, offering farewells in actuality...
head to toes, noses to belly buttons, tatted, tattered, and still tasted by dying cells.  It’s insane to think it’s even possible  one retains each and all, but he does, those few given, those few  millions he gave away for cheap belly laughs and poems, decade upon decade accumulated are the totality of him, all of them free and sealed in kisses from head to toes

Gin and tonic please
Gin and tonic please
I just want to bathe in it

She gets hypnotic

At the bar


Away from the
Bar

Actually,
IN the bar,

Just mindlessly staring at
The shapes of a woman sitting on the wood

En

Stool



I can feel it now
like a ****** toons character,  getting hit really hard
The little stars circulating my head...
There’s stars in my eyes, a glow of the iris and a pupil that looks like a freshly polished shoe
I know how I look when I’m drunk okay?

Do you?

I know how I look when I’m drunk, okay?
Do you?

Do you ever look in the mirror?

Do you see your subconscious suddenly rise out of you?

Like a magic trick
Like a witch being summoned,
Accidentally
Because a naive ****** lit
The wrong candle

Sorry I’m off topic now, I can barely focus
But I love hocus pocus
The idea of three sisters being reunited
In the midst of a beautiful ,crisp, purple, nocturnal place
On Halloween....



Do you see your conscious slipping deeper into you though?
Do you?
So now your subconscious is your conscious
The thoughts we could control end up tying us up
Wrapping our mind around everything
A little too tight
Don’t you think?

And sometimes when your conscious is sleeping....
It’s the best feeling, yet at the same time so unnerving, just the worst.

Your sloppy, standing on a slippery *****
Sloppy *****
Lost in sudden, intoxicated hope
But your cheeks are burning
And your hearts on fire
Yearning
You have a sense of clarity
And freedom,
You think you do, at least.


Now I lose control, I knock over a shot glass
And it splashes on her lap
She licks her lips

I don’t like girls.


I start crying because I think of people and diseases.

I don’t like girls.

My eyes well up with tears and she says you look like a ******* baby.
You’re sad and your beautiful.
And your cheeks, so soft and full.

I don’t like girls.

Her lips lock mine
So lightly like a piece of pollen falling in your hair
I could barely feel it
Yet my body responded so swiftly

Gin and tonic
Gin and tonic
As she pours hypnotic

I don’t like girls

But what’s anyone going to do
Without the soft cradling touch of a lady
Who can hold you to her *****
Keep you close like Allie and Noah in the canoe
Let you rest like a cat cradled up unto a crescent moon

And give you the comfort and the freedom to feel peace
Like
A gin and tonic
Gin and tonic

Beautiful, strong women
So hypnotic.

Sindi Kafazi

never giving up
persistence personified
Wile E Coyote

I remember you taking me out for a BBQ,
God, I hated the heat, the smoke.
I just wanted to stay home and watch toons and not suffer through the heat.
But you were so proud, ever so proud,
Your amazing baby boy you said.

You went away working for me,
In search of that better life for me,
Then I grew up a little bit and started wondering. Was it my fault you weren’t
home so often? Did you miss me at all?

I didn’t understand your sacrifices,
How could I? You were my dad,
and you weren’t there when I wanted you
to be, that’s all that mattered at the time.
I didn’t see the larger picture, didn’t
know that you missed me because you
never showed me. I was too young.

Then you came back in my life, I was
angry, bitter that you missed the important
moments of my life. How could you be
my father if you weren’t there?
All I saw was mum hurting and lonely.

But a son wants a father, and boy did I
fall into the ****** cliché. A textbook
troubled, confused boy with daddy issues.
You came back and I loved you again.

You gave me the best holiday of my life,
The perfect dad, you were back.
You were home and I was at my happiest.
The perfect family.

Then you died and my heart bled,
All of our hearts did, you left me again,
You left us confused and broken.
Now I’m trying to please you and live up to your expectations,all the while not knowing what your expectations of me are.

I buried you and whatched as they lowered your body into the ground,
Red roses on your grave as the tears fell
On my face.

I love you till I die but I truly wish I’m
never like you, you shone brightly in my
life then you bowed out and left me to
deal with the massive void you left in my life, so I don’t want to be like you.

Every time She Goes Away

you know I could make up a story
I could spread the icing really thick
make it sound like I have a real clue
about where my head is it's so thick

my analyst has left me on my own
to deal with this world of loony toons
so I can pretend to anything I wish
go out drinking all nite with some other baboons

write a letter to the King of the world
let him know my displeasure with my life
this isn't new territory for me you know
she had no business leaving me like a wife

I could always speak to her the absolute
she would never judge me or show me a frown
what did she expect walking away like that
knowing that I am nothing but a circus clown

It has happened before with similar results
just what is it she wants me to say    
I rant and rave and shake the rafters
I get so lonely, every time she goes away

Gomer LePoet

buttressed by bisected nebulae
our galaxies coalesce.
soft-spoken Andromeda hurtling
towards a somber Milky Way.
a slow dance plays
to the crooning toons
of Brand New. am i experiencing Deja Entendu
or are the Devil and God
merely raging inside us?

Christmas lights, distant as parsecs,
twinkle every which way we look.
multicolor displays flash
in dizzying arrays, winking in and out,
drizzling like dripping icicles. sad songs
spill continuously from the stereo as we drive
through one neighborhood after the next,
aimless in our contentment.

it's half-past-2:00
in the morning and i'm singing Panic!
at the Disco with (and for) you. i write of sins
and hope this doesn't end in tragedy
as Trade Wind shifts and entreats us
to drift listless as asteroids
rocked to sleep in the arms
of an ambivalent cosmos.

we may all be made of star stuff,
but we both agree:
there's no god who could love this world.
so as we lift crude gestures
to an apathetic sky, we realize
the task falls to us. we must love,
for beauty persists
in spite of all the sorrow.

i am happy to spin perpetually,
elastic and ecstatic in your orbit.
for every now and then your beams of light
filter through my prism and provide
another connection along
our wavelength.

I only wanted a quiet life
Was the first thought that I had,
When the woman beat on my cedar door,
I thought that she must be mad.
She beat and beat, and would not retreat
Though I begged her just to go,
But she cried, ‘He’s going to ****** me,
You must let me in, I know!’

I peered out through a crack in the door
Just to see the woman’s face,
Her lips were ******, her eye was black
And the tears had left their trace,
I groaned I wouldn’t become involved
But knew in the end I would,
I opened the door and let her in,
Her hands were covered in blood.

‘Don’t drip that blood on the carpet!’
She just turned to me with a shrug,
‘I’ve taken the carpet cleaner back
I borrowed to clean the rug!’
Too late, too late, as she smeared the blood
All over my pristine wall,
‘Are you callous or just plain crazy?
He’ll be coming to **** us all!’

‘Then why did you come to me,’ I cried,
‘There’s a hundred doors out there,
Go pick on another married fool
With a life lived in despair.
I never fell for the gender trap
For it always ends like this,
A bottle of Jack with a drunken lout
Who had promised married bliss.’

I steered her into the bathroom, ran
The taps as I heard him roar,
‘Come out you blanketty wilful witch
Or I’ll have to beat down the door!’
My cedar door with the frosted glass
That I only installed in June,
I heard a splinter, and then a crash
As he burst on into the room.

I pointed the shaft of the toilet brush
At him, from under a towel,
‘I’ve got a gun and I’ll use it!’ But
All that he did was howl.
A bullet whistled on past my head
And shattered the shower screen,
‘I swear I’ll blow you to Kingdom Come
If you don’t come now, Doreen!’

‘For God’s sake, give it a rest,’ she said,
As she washed the blood away,
Wiped her hands on my nice clean towel
As I groaned in my dismay,
He put the gun in his pocket, dropped
His head and began to weep,
‘Is this the guy you’ve been seeing then?’
‘What him? The guy is a creep!’

‘He’s more concerned with his carpet
Than a lady in distress,
I’d rather you with your ****** Toons
Though you tend to make a mess.’
She walked on up and she kissed him
And they walked out hand in hand,
‘Who’s going to pay for the damage, then?’
I called, but they had gone.

I never answer a beating door
No matter how long they knock,
I call out, ‘Sorry, I’m not at home,’
As I click the fifteenth lock,
A beaten wife is a world of strife
For the man who intervenes,
The bodies may pile outside my door
But I keep my carpets clean.

David Lewis Paget

A boxcar towards Detroit

A cheap ticket and no work week

Train ride rhythm and we stack for nothing

A few hours until conclusion

So I might as well tinker with time

Pick apart these scenes so consumed and complicate nothing

Hear goes one more run for the cynical articulation

Some faces surround for common ground

Some minds scattered by seclusion

Some contraptions consolidate the wonders

Another nod for the distraction tube

No need for introspection
No need for eyes made astute

Cheeto dust and pocket lint for your friendship fund

Cracks complicate a ceilings resilience

Buckets like ****** Toons
Deafening roar of water on tin
A window frantically frosted

Makes blooms blink and breath contract

Casually heads cluster

Laugh inside the sick and gleam a new gold watch

Knock and smile for another soul suspended

Salted avenues crunch like brown bag bottles

Some homeless frozen into earth

Some malignant machinery shrouds the crossings

Air like an avalanche
Face feels like nothing

Solidified fragments for the descent

Ponder another pixel and they fall around this body

Water sticks like concrete poured

Heater heaven for a half price function

I've never felt so low than when the high is momentary

I've never known a God that needed so much reassurance

The sun shines but the cold is never controlled

I wish for Palm tree torture

So why do I head North?