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Brandon Conway Oct 2018

A muleta drapes over my chest
the ripples pass through with the wind
while we dance around this dusty plaza de toros
eyes fixated
thinking you can gore mon coeur
ptui
I only give you the illusion of control
but in the end
it will be my estoc tongue that
pierces your flesh
between the shoulders
with crimson words
I am no novillero
cornada's in the past only strengthen the future
a porta gayola posed and ready
awaiting that ferocious charge
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
The devil sits at its zenith
Hell’s warmth embracing
a bead of sweat escapes
both the man and the beast
locked and circling
waiting
waiting
waiting
until one leaves alive
both man and beast
want to show their bravado
one charges
one waves and dodges
both smell death’s breath
a crimson river starts to flow
and the dance is repeated
until one sits on Charon's boat
or is pulled by death’s horses
but in this dance
both have tripped and fallen
death is overjoyed in the afternoon
the bull riders came
from near and far
to try and conquer
Chainsaw's elevated bar

he'd buck them off afore
the eight second crack
none would last upon
his awesomely built back

around the rodeo circuit
this bull had a legendary status
for beating they who'd do
battle with his feisty apparatus

the goading spur of rider
not disconcerting him
he'd show them that he
was ever potent in trim

of an immortal bovine
we'll never see again
so celebrate the elan
of Chainsaw's grain
Taylor Aebischer Jun 2018
Red in the eyes,
charging towards me.
This life has thrown many an obstacle,
but I always manage to move the cloth,
to attract it in a different direction.

I scave it off with a taunt,
hoping to delay the disaster.
Yet somehow it keeps running,
headlong in my direction,
ready to plow right through me.
Wrote this poem earlier this week. Uses the analogy of the bull to show how life throws its struggles at me.
hum...habit...hic...abbott woozy
celebrating with British Royal Family
     and...hub bout red dee
     to take a snoozy
sup...par'n...this poet
     fur...hib bit..bing a lil oozy.

Now this raggedy man
whilst deep in sleep
this past night what felt like galactic body
     fell upon ma slumbering heap
affecting immediate fear
     lest worst nightmare,
     would crush with might
but lo…just then zee spouse
     plunked herself
     with unconsciousness deep
unable to recapture pleasant dreams
     well nigh past day light.

So...rather than emit shrieks
     like some angry birds
the idea arose to attempt poem
     to express discombobulated state

whereby grey matter feels
     similar to thick whey curds
palliative sans restorative power
     per rest will clear muddled pate

thick with grogginess
     and marauding herds
of mailer daemons worse
     than unsuitable mate

or a world wide web filled with nerds
thus lethargy purged
     via catharsis with forming words
that follow rhyming pattern
     to convey mood = to a synonym for turds.

respite from a cat nap as tonic no lion here
can spell relief and serve as balm
with pillowed temptress ever near
beckons softly inviting calm

before this human
     goes a berserk manic tear
being revisited from haunts
     inside head of this scrivener
caught by men in white coats
     strait jacketing this maniac

     in tattered under wear
whose ***** by the way
     oh about the size of an average palm
yet taut for witnessing
     deux score plus eighteen mortal year.
Can't

I can't kiss ***
Must be something i ate in class
Or was it mother's scalding tongue
That'd scorch ya just for fun
Or maybe brother's saucy mouth
That'd shake ya 'til all the loot fell out
No I can't kiss ****
Can't figure out this stuff
You might call me a brat
Say I'm a loud whiskered alley cat
But it could be that bull in ****
Dying for just another hit
Whatever it is
I can't seem to kiss ***
And if I did now I'm done
Maybe it sounds crass
But god help me
I'm no good at kissin' ***
I might get hell for this
An
You might think I'm takin' the ****
But I just don't have that kinda class
I just can't
I  can't kiss ****
Can't is included in my collection The Situation@amazon books.....I grew up in an Irish family that was rather blunt in terms of saying stuff about others or situations outside of them.. However there were deeper feelings that were not talked about and it not that kosher to talk about. I'm learning to be more vulnerable and unashamed of expressing feelings that may be uncomfortable but important for me and for my relationships with others...Can't feels like an antidote to living part of my life without authenticity.
frankie Apr 2018
grab the bull by the horns
look at it dead in the eyes
see the danger of the flames burning within
remember that you are the red flag
you control the fierce beast that it clutched in your grip
one mistake, one flaw of reasoning and your fate becomes the bull’s decision
the bull is getting impatient
you release it from your grip
the bull with its new found freedom, stands still, stares at you as it lies down
the bull has surrendered itself to you
be gentle with him, he only wants your affection
and in that moment you realise that the bull is your heart and you, you are everything you have ever inflicted upon it.
just moments ago, i went online and tapped Google
   if some miraculous spell
   could be drawn out of thin air
cause (this house husband

   feels a bit embarrassed to divulge),
   but at present,
   the will to live aye cannot bear
cuz  after an ample lather of soap and shampoo,

ah pronounced heady effect became immediately clear
where times gone by
   (even as late as early January
   tooth how sand and eighteen),

   the strands clumped, glommed, and matted together
   as sieve ma noggin got sat upon by a deer
no matter after shaking head banging fashion
   (imagine rock stars of yore

   whipping their wild locks) from ear to e'er
butta noah such dizzy inducing antics
   resulted in absolutely no fluffiness,
   hence my worse fear

(irrational?) yes, an obsession i.e.
   thy hirsute outgrowth fixation dated back
   tummy boyhood when cranky gear
and defective cogs somehow impacted

   preoccupation concerning
   every singular follicle fostering hair
strand, but during prepubescence,
   this now grown man took a fancy
   to this, that, or the other lad,

   who sported a style envied yours truly,
   hie wished said thatch tubby upon mine
   ma lil oblate spheroid,
   and pleaded (weathered and in vane)

   with fate to make magically ap pear
this, tis minuscule wiggle room
   to muster support from rear
guard, hook offer me wiggle room

   asthma body electric goes on a manic tear
precious seconds ticking closer
   to the final count down where
this mwm might remain bed ridden
   for an entire year.
The crowd is loudly cheering
For that is what crowds do
But, I only hear my heartbeat
For now, it's just us two

There's clowns in the arena
There's four barrels where they hide
But, it's me who faces danger
It's me that has to ride

They joke about the battle
They tell tales of my ex-wife
How I said "I did your sister"
Then I held on for my life

The truth is much more dangerous
The truth is what I know
The truth is underneath me
The truth is set to go

My boots are on the sideboards
Beneath me is the bull
A hurricane in waiting
With his anger set on full

The crowd still cheering loudly
I lower myself down
the rope around my right hand
Eight seconds to the crown

I'm not here to fight him
Just to hold on and be one
He'll try his best to throw me
I'm the bullet, he's the gun

I try to match his breathing
Slow mine down just like my heart
In a heartbeat it is over
But, right now, I'm set to start

I signal that I'm ready
It takes forever, but, it's quick
I now hear both our heartbeats
While I am waiting for the click....
b Nov 2017
Dust of the earth
Put fear in my heart
And black in my eyes.
How blessed I've been
To live a life so short
And play so many roles.

I've played the bull.
I've played the victim.
I've been the bull.
I've been the victim.

A tac pricked through a wool shirt
Keeps the sunlight out of my room.
I watch the black paint boil over.

Being everyone makes me nobody.

Finding the line
And walking it.
Not giving a ****
Which side I fall into.

Kids like me die
Because of
Kids like me.
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