hurricanes can’t survive where northern boys rule, it is just a national geographic magazine truth, everybody knows the slow frenetic taking is a compromise, my tongue parachutes inside the dome and the soft down comforter is on the floor in the hotel room with a view of fifth avenue and central park and the occasional glance outside, a landing zone for the V-day parapoets
room service delivers in god’s love we trust. i teach you my mastery and you laugh texas blonde shotgun size
is that the best you got and I laugh cause we don’t got hurricanes in manhattan unless they are man made and the shower handle won’t turn us off
in what time zone is it am4:29 and you feed me verses like long legged spaghetti lines, and i say too fast too fast and you say too bad too bad northern boy that how texas blondes shotgun size write poems
Quacky little bird sound When you hear it coming duck! If farmer Ted is after you You're running out of luck
Totin' shotgun and bird shot, Son, he's aiming not to please He's sneaking close behind you bird You better hold your sneeze
Cuz your feathers are a tickler Your bill is orange and bright While the farmer is a stickler He will sup on bird tonight
Lord love a duck! Of him you mustn't run a fowl Pain from your freshly plucked feathers Will be enough to make you howl!
7/17/2019 - Poetry form: Light Verse - This is the first poem in my new e-book "Bird Beaks & Bee's Knees", a collection of bird-brained poems that attempt to answer the following question: What can you do when you're as busy as a bee and life bugs you to the point where you cry fowl? And there you go, barking at the geese, ducks and swans, swatting carpenter bees with your tennis racket and drowning ants with your water hose as if that will help. The Woodpecker Gazette calls it "A silly, idiotic and unintelligent must-read." So as not to run afoul of the grammar police, please understand that my poetic license is up to date, misspelled words are intentional and the use of puns is clearly authorized. Why in the world would I use puns? To make it more punny, of course! Ok, I'll stop now. Maybe...
Sun, heat and sweat and what remains but the bone the indecipherable whisper on our ear the bitter aftertaste of a potent drink you show me your tattoos, i show you mine you show me your scars, i show you my poems you show me your breast, i show you my sun, heat and sweat the ghost of a body that has not yet died pill after pill till the stomach is pumped till the brain swims in endorphins, nirvana, heaven till the night screams to be heard and the moans fade till the bone-sun rises and clobbers our throbbing skulls no more for once i want to sleep by 10:00 pm sharp for once i want to know what the birds sing what maria callas means by "vissi d'arte" for once i yearn to be silenced by another's dream dissolve in the radiance of a pure syllable vanish beyond the confines of light
Originally a collab between Z and X
I'm trying to broaden my creativity, so I've opened up a SoundCloud and started recording some of my pieces.
There's still an empty space where there should be a heart From all the words you used, hoping to tear me apart There's still a giant **** in the back of my spine From the knife you stabbed while looking in my eyes There's still all these holes in my chest From the shotgun trigger pulling when you left