#texture
my lover equates me with my favorite instrument;
running his fingers down the strings of my flesh,
building tension and release as he sees fit.
the movement of our lips almost quantized
to match each other’s harmony.
every taste he acquires from me is
another texture added to his collection of sounds.
I want to let him know
that he can learn me to my very core
and play me to his heart’s content
like a cherub playing the harp
as he ascends the heavens.
May 7, 2024
May 7, 2024 at 3:13 AM UTC
∞
___Name the word, for the word has a name.___
_Listen to it breathe. Let it lie lightly in the mind and liquid
on the tongue. Bear its essence forth, its personality and its intention
- conceived briefly, discarded readily, pronounced forcefully.
∞
How does it sit with you? The spread of its silhouette suspended
within a silent interval. How does it move you? An attitude framed by
the gesture of a hand. Is its pitch sharp or flat, its texture course or fine?
∞
Allow meaning and resonance, intonation and feeling to merge unencumbered;
the syntax of the imprisoned soul, emancipated by a river of sound, to mould
the shape of your aboutness, around and within, beyond and in spite of..._
___And hear consciousness dance.___
∞
Nov 26, 2020
Nov 26, 2020 at 7:42 PM UTC
breathing quickening, pillow over the head, eyes open, brain dead
alive yet dead
black wings, pretty eyes, thick thighs, wide cheeky smiles, can chuck out people's lungs for soft words in return
hardened, dark, dusty, wrapped in shiny black clothes with secrets, scars and threads
brain so colourful will get colourblind soon
hands catching gentle water kisses, losers they are
failing to gravity, failing
put the feet on the floor, forgot to tell--shit
gravity they call
hot, hot, cold, cold, cold, cold
volcanic, explosive, misguided conversations, orange fingertips, blue knuckles, purple lips, green heart and round hips
Sep 4, 2020
Sep 4, 2020 at 1:48 PM UTC
Sooo shivered from
a deluge with heed,
at the naked and as nerves
bundled half as much
as I curled in to gasping.
They reminded me to call upon
the book of a Spanish
painter of the souls
as substance course clocked,
splattered with a trail
of blinding sunset upon gold rouse,
flowed constantly like rims
of Gaudi’s great work,
placed as a silken fabric
of blue paint yet
Aug 17, 2020
Aug 17, 2020 at 6:25 AM UTC
The texture of
My lips
Slur the notes
That drape my hips
Staccato
Across my midline
Crescendo
Look for us
Jul 7, 2020
Jul 7, 2020 at 2:34 PM UTC
when I was growing up,
our hallway had the most peculiar floor:
not quite carpet,
not quite planks,
but something in between.
like a wicker basket
stretched out over several metres,
or the rope you find
dangling off a dinghy's mooring,
it scratched and screened
at the soles of your feet,
tickling and tormenting
bare toes or
pulling the threads out of
well-meaning pairs of socks.
I hated it, or at least,
I thought I did —
until the day it was replaced by
laminate panels.
fake wood didn't cut it,
neither would expensive pile,
or any scraggly synthetic offering
to do the trick.
our painful, hessian homecoming
was a path to beds, and tables,
and welcoming arms.
it marked a definite departure
from sensible carpets and
suitable floors,
to the place between comforts.
for who would dally in a hallway that hurt?
or who would pause to feel the prickling,
pinching of strange interior decor?
of course, sense prevailed —
wood would come,
wood would stay,
and our peculiar, prickly past,
would become a story for some other day.
Apr 4, 2020
Apr 4, 2020 at 10:03 PM UTC
Extend your hand, palm up
Silk - a long bolt of it,
unfurls across your palm
Cold on contact
And smooth
And smooth and smooth
Dragging a crisp wind behind it
As it falls away like a solid liquid
Extend your hand,
A gelatinous orb, almost sticky to the touch
But not quite.
Rubbery, resilient, responsive
Pulled under the weight of gravity
To bulge and droop over the edges of your hand
When you drop it, it hesitates as it lets go.
Extend your hand
Feel the weigh of a solid masonry cube
The greyest concrete
Each crenelation of its surface
Like a dry-skin pore
The corners and edges hold their shape sharply
Dragging fingers make a rasping sound
And a ceramic-like ring as it slips from your hand
Extend two hands together
Like to catch a stream of water
But instead you cradle
A tired and content weeks-old kitten
It adjusts its position, and curls up
Content with the warmth of your hands
You feel the soft, purring of velvet fur
It feels implicit trust, warmth and security
For its always-pending next nap.
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 9:06 AM UTC
Life is a natural painting,
Make it lively and stimulating.
Use strokes of hope,
Tone it with varied patience,
Texture it with kindness,
Brush it with confidence,
Use exotic colours of love and care,
Happiness and laughter.
23/3/2019
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 5:34 PM UTC
The texture of your voice
in the dark is soft leather
and coffee in the morning
stones on hot afternoons
to sweaters in the evening
but that is just a single day.
Mar 18, 2019
Mar 18, 2019 at 3:07 PM UTC
your scarf traces your cold skin, a warm smell of rain
wrapped up in favours, not your particular flavour,
x Wrapped up in webs, in the attic of my head x
it’s bad now//it’s bad now// it’s bad now
Do you just let things
IN?
Fly with it on a
WHIM?
I could never be so thin,
Holding up a barrier caging what’s
IN
x How do you just let it in, let it in? x
It’s numb now// it’s numb now// it’s numb
Let them flow, oh let them flow
right through
your tainted soul
Show them what’s real
x Please can you just show, how to let it in now x
It’s real now//It’s real now//It’s real now
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 8:26 PM UTC
My work day woke to Monk,
the click of typing keys,
clock watched, Spotify playing,
random thoughts rose like bees
to freeze in these jagged lines,
then swarm in threatening flight.
Hours of data entry later,
on a stool, in a bar, a clock's
hands tock, I flick a wrist,
and slur my words concluding
an anguished monologue,
“They call it work, you know.”
Awash at home, in the strobe of
pixelated panel light,
visions surge and dissipate
with the pulse of the night. Osip,
were you tempered to embrace
attention’s fugitive caress?
You etched memory’s texture
with candle soot for ink,
and the gulag’s blackened gaze -
I type lines by hunt and peck
humming Monk’s WELL YOU NEEDN’T,
hoping for an adequate phrase.
Copyright © 2004 Gary Brocks
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 10:38 PM UTC
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ'✿⊱╮
Sugar, butter, eggs cream smooth
Wisp of vanilla
Grated orange zest, kneaded
swirls, braids, round twist, "S"
Gloss with beat-egg wash
Bake gold brown
Seeds!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 4:23 PM UTC
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ'✿⊱╮
Spongy semolina cake
toothsome lemon kiss
rich, orange-blossom syrup
gold-kissed and fragrant
So buttery sweet
cinnamon
Aaah!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 12:16 PM UTC
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ'✿⊱╮
Milk-white, shredded filo dough
spun gossamer-thin
Wrapped nest for pistachio,
almonds, cinnamon
White baked gentle gold
Hot honey
Serve!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 11:10 AM UTC
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ'✿⊱╮
Crisp on the outside
Soft, fluffy inside
Vanilla blooms on my tongue
Maple syrup drips
Strawberries, whipped cream
Dust sugar
Stack!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 3:33 PM UTC
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ'✿⊱╮
Boiling syrup sweetened by
the rose's water
Blushing pink, from strips to cubes
Dusted with icing sugar
Small, gently perfumed,
chewy, light
Sweet!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 6:30 AM UTC
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ'✿⊱╮
Finger-shaped from choux pastry
Dark-gold, crisp, hollow
Smooth vanilla pastry cream
Pale-yellow, so rich
Fresh chocolate ganache
gently spread
Bite!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ'✿⊱╮
Dessert of decadent dreams
Light, rich and creamy
Chocolates that melt in your mouth
Dark chocolate first
Then milk choc, then white
Whip cream crown
Serve!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ'✿⊱╮
Flaky caramel-brown crust
of a shiny sheen
Base of dark chewy chocolate
moist and fudgy, scoop
vanilla ice-cream
each bite pure
Yes!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 6:30 PM UTC
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ '✿⊱╮
Amber-kissed choux pastry
Shells in the oven's womb
baked round, light, fluffy, hollow
Fattened with sweet cream
classic vanilla
Dust sugar powder
Prime!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 6:58 PM UTC
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ '✿⊱╮
Deliciously sweet street treat
From dough unsweetened
Usually long, thin or thick
Deep fried, golden-brown
Sprinkled with sugar
mixed with cinnamon
Chocolate dip
Aaah!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 5:33 PM UTC
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ '✿⊱╮
Slim, flavoured meringue cookies
Smooth top, chewy mid
Petite, but perfectly round
Filled with buttercream
Ribbon-soft in mouth
Take two bites
Yum!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 1:48 PM UTC