#whip
The alarm tolls,
On their rude device-
It's time for work
& yet still, despite
the thousand fascets
of one reality
These
middle-aged
Half-life(s),
These Newbrunswickin Chavs
Wouldn't recognize, really,
That Despite
the riddle's answer, Being E;
& that double decade,
One might have over me,
When direct
Questions
go unanswered; The respect
I require
(now unvield)
Shapeshifts,
Off, into the past
Oh, how I become
The Whip
Ruthlessly;
they crack
The Whip
& with
All that I am,
the past, In desperation, I forcefully trick
As the blackness, of my being
Forms a darkness, spilling thick.
Engulfing light- mind's eye's Unseeing,
Consumes oneself, like a candles wick -
Illuminating every route (for fleeing)
For me, the lights still on- homesick.
Forcefully, faithfully; to keep on believing, & even
just to keep the pathway lit- by headlight, sunbeam, or doomscrolling trip-
Understand why might a human being
'S now become The Whip
Apr 14, 2024
Apr 14, 2024 at 7:52 PM UTC
Making a living Wage from the living Word
Inevitably shades, obscures, taints and corrupts
Betrays the apparently living Faith
And exalting the Man than the Word
Balaam refused silver and gold in public
But embraced death's wages in secret
Certainly the labourer deserves his dues
But from his Master and not from fellow labourers
If the lives you saved leave you hungry
But for your whip, perhaps they're yet slaves
Mar 23, 2022
Mar 23, 2022 at 2:30 AM UTC
Sometimes you just gotta laugh the situations Life puts you in
Standing there stuck in the train, jammed in with all the others
'Cos the previous train had been cancelled
And now the crowd was too big to get a seat sitting down
I'm pushed up behind the back of this young girl's head
She has a pigtail or what was formerly a pigtail
It's been cut rather abruptly, truncated prematurely and then tied off
So that what's left of it now sticks out directly from the back of her head
And it's stuck right into my nose,
And of course, she's speaking to someone in front of her
And she's nodding her head up and down as if acknowledging
her friend's words
And sometimes she shakes her head the other way
As if acknowledging her friend's negative feelings as well
So she's going Yes...yes....yes! up and down
And No...no...no! the other way
And my poor nose is being mercilessly swished up and down, back and forth, all over the place
It feels like a shoe being shined or a car in a car wash
And it's tickling me something terrible
And I'm there desperately wiggling my nose
Trying to avert an itch or a sneeze coming on
And secretly hoping no one is watching this
Because I think I'd look real foolish if they are,
And I'm also thinking to myself "I know I could do with a bit more human contact/ intimacy in my life
But this... this is ridiculous,
And then I start thinking of this Site and all the lovely tender intimate poems I've read
Those lovely hugs and kisses, sweet cuddles and caresses
Those warm embraces and even warmer entanglements
And I'm thinking " Well that's just typical isn't it, others get all those lovely things
While I get something... something weird like this.
But then y'know after the first feelings of awkwardness and discomfort have worn off I start thinking
"But it is rather funny though" and then "actually it's probably the highlight of my day"
Gradually I find myself warming to this little pigtail
She's blonde (another blonde) like some lovely Swedish thing
With my nose buried in her, I get her scent, her sweet perfume
I breathe her in deeply
Then I find myself getting a little aroused
And I find myself almost talking to her, giving her a personality
"You mischevious little Pixie, you flirtatious little Trixie
You like to see me suffer don't you, the way you hit me back and forth
Baby you're so vile, but hey! I like your smile
Come on! Hit me again harder!
I'll never submit to you, you'll never rule me"
I could almost see her, some cold ice Lady wrapped in furs brandishing her whip
But then suddenly it's like I hear this...this little reply coming back at me
I think I'm starting to hallucinate
It says "Feel my scent, it's heaven sent. Here let me warm you up a little"
As again I feel the whoosh of her whip
"You ***** you ***** I say defiant
"Hey there Serious Boy" she says, "afraid to be seen talking with me.
O! what'll they think, what'll they say Oooo Whooo!
Who cares, who gives a **** what they think
It's just me and you here now, just the two of us
What about it Serious Boy, what do you say
Won't you come out and play, come out and dance with me
O! you're so buttoned up
Come out and laugh and be silly with me
O! drench me in lovely laughter and wonderful silliness
Big man in Poet land
Wanna hear some of my poetry
" The secret of the sun
It's written on my ***
Wanna see my secret Hun'?"
"That's bad poetry" I say
Ignoring me she continues
"Through my eyes the door to adventure lies
Hey Boy! Let it swing, don't hold it in
Just let it dangle, dangle like an obtuse triangle"
I had to smile, "I like it Baby, your poetry, it really... really speaks to me"
And then she looks deep into my eyes
"I bet your magic wand, it's like James Bond"
She has me smiling and laughing to myself, she's so...so too much
And I'm totally lost in this, our magical converse
But then suddenly...suddenly the world, it interrupts, our train it stops,
Some people get off, then she reaches down to get her bag
She starts to leave, to move toward the door
"But you can't go, we were just getting acquainted, we were just getting to know one another"
And it's like she gives me this one last wistful smile
And then she's gone, heading off down the platform
I was gonna go after her, follow her out onto the street
But I knew her owner, she'd probably soon start to twig
She'd turn and accost me "You're following me, aren't you, why are you following me ?"
And I'd say "I'm not following you, I...I'm following Her behind you. Back, back in the train we...we"
Then she'd start to scream "Stalker! ****** and then I'd be grabbed, set upon
The police would be called and I'd be hauled off, dragged before some Court
Some Judge, he'd be looking down at me sternly, "What do you have to say for yourself ? How do you plead ?"
And all I'd be able to say would be "Lack of fun, your Honour, lack of silliness, lack of... warmth in my life
My seriousness and indecision, their slowly killing me, like a tight gripping ivy
Their strangling all the joy out of my life
How do I plead ? Loneliness, I guess, loneliness in the first degree".
And y'know I still look for her in crowds and in trains, my little blonde Miss Pigtail, I'd know her anywhere.
And I still remember that day we had together and all the fun we had on the train.
Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 6:20 PM UTC
The wind whistles as it whips down the winding street
Trying to knock down people
wary of the ice and snow beneath their feet.
The sky watching over them is still.
But it's a trap. A storm is coming in for the ****
Nov 11, 2019
Nov 11, 2019 at 7:46 PM UTC
taste the whip
ache just like a woman
but you break just like a girl
different colors made of tears
oui c'est la folie
chain reaction and mutation
it's in the air for you and me
welt rises
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 1:46 AM UTC
I'm a wordsmith
A word that starts and smarts
The pain across your face
Like a whip
I'm a wordsmith
They bounce upon the page and skin
And seep into the cracks
Like water
I'm a wordsmith
The lines all blur to one
My voice, your ears, the future
Like a whip.
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 6:17 AM UTC
Turn Around…by Jessie 5/06
Turn around; make your way
From the South up to the North
Freedoms there… go get it!
It’s waiting at every port
Turn around; make your way
Through the thickets and the mud
Take the hand of your fellow man
Wipe away his blood
Turn around; he’s coming
The dogs are on your heels
Keep down low; don’t make a sound
Or the master’s whip you’ll feel
Turn around; make your way
Follow the stars above
Travel by night, so you don’t get caught
If freedoms what you love
Turn around; make your way
Some of you will die
The price of freedoms costly
Cheaper to live a lie
Turn around; don’t look back
What you seek, is the other way
Suppress the fear and inclination
To hide your dreams and stay
Turn around; make the run
Time is running out
Masters getting closer
Of that there is no doubt
Turn around; freedom calls
It beckons, sweet the sound
Milk and honey on the other side
Trail north of town
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 2:15 PM UTC
I feed you the bacon, that the Corporal made. He could pilot a falcon to the home of the brave.
Well his hands take no sinning,
Like your eyes stricken white.
You were born and forgotten
On a Saturday night.
I count the brandings, o'er the tower's achy call,
In this land of poor mothers, you could quiet your shrill.
If you're rustling and shaking, like a need for The blues.
You better flag down the night sky, for just a Taste of the moon.
Any one can take a gargoyle, as a treat, or a sin.
Until you step aside girl, you'd better not count
On a win.
In a state of confusion, you're the governor of Pain. So let down your hair child, or throw your thoughts towards forgettin'. I could be weary, or I could be wrong. But tomorrow I'll be farther, farther than a telephone's call.
I'll take the whip, and the hammer, just to cross
Myself supine. I could wrestle up some supper. I could retake a swift sublime. Any outfit I'm donning, it's as black as could be. For the funerals off, do not count on your grief. Do not count on your nightmares, don't rely on your dreams. If you waste your time blinking, you could find your eyes lying. The world turns more quickly, when you're heart-break is live.
I've run and I've rambled. Like a soldier I was caught sporting a grin.
I can hear the wolves Howling,
It's the music that's playing.
Once I was a coward,
Now I'm a scout for the fear.
All that was in question,
All that was too heavy to bare.
You are the coin's flip, fueled by fashion and Law. Till the death comes to part you, and the Men come to call.
While your brother claims writing, over silence and grief.
Take your eyes for a peddling, a chance to take some relief.
And while you are writing, just come for a call. Quiet your longing, some folks were never meant to come at all.
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 1:18 AM UTC
The whip kissed her skin like the lover of her dreams
Porcelain skin left red from the touch
A lovelier beauty no one has ever seen
So innocent, yet likes it so rough
Cold steel around her wrist, pull her back to give her neck a kiss
I will guide her, and show her the way
Wither it be with my palm or with my fist
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 4:56 AM UTC
Baby Bobby is free,
No more whips, from amish men,
Baby Bobby is free,
You kicked and screamed on the glue truck sweetie,
Baby Bobby is free,
A nice lady Cathleen rescued you for me,
Baby Bobby is free,
She Cleaned you up and healed your wounds,
Baby Bobby is free,
Bobby baby, why are you scared of me,
Baby Bobby is free,
Bobby baby, I'd never hurt you, I just want to love you,
Baby Bobby is free,
Bobby why do you kick and scream?
Baby Bobby is free,
Bobby I love you, what's wrong baby.
Baby Bobby is never going to be Free,
Bobby is trapped inside his fears, much like me.
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 8:30 AM UTC
Time to think
Of what is happening
Ambushed in my own head
The worst kind
Of planned pain
I'm deflated to the floor
Fixated down
Each whip
Hammering at my back
Tasting the wood
I start to count
Adding up the licks
Like electric shocks
Forming patterns in my head
Finding logic in numbers
When she will tire?
This session's termination
Seeking a hint of hope
In her shortness of breath
Whipping the same mark in consistency
Until my skin is tarnished
An obvious sequenced rule
Once my skin becomes raw
The sting takes a turn
To a sharpening burn
numbing quiets the scald
Pain I bare
Until I hear my
Little brother's screams
Punishing my core
My heart beats out
Through my shoulder blades
Begging for my mother to hear it
Our rhythm once connected
Now detached
Unable to hear it's plea
Captured by this creature
Who lives in solitude
Her rotten soul
Living in her own reclkless world
Where no one belongs
It's over finally
As she wanders away
Ordering us to remove our mess
A collection of carnage
And sweaty weeps
Dehydrated in my cloth of depression
Erasing the abuse
Where I retreat
To my bed
And expel cries
For my ears alone
Protesting against my weakness
Refusing to show her
How much she hurts me
© Jl 2016
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 2:23 PM UTC
I bet I could stretch
Like you've never seen before
With the crook of my finger
And a wink, let the games begin
You want to struggle
My little **** toy?
Ah ah ah, let's tie these hands
Behind your back
Don't get any ideas
Pet
Obey me, lie on your belly
Crush your head into the pillow
Cringe and squirm, please
Let me just, strap this on
Not listening, hm?
I have other things
Leather, that will leave marks
On your tender, innocent flesh
Let my fingers coil
Make it harder to breathe
Force you down
By a pull of your hair
I'm going to be an animal
And you will be the prey
I will feast on you
I will nibble you
Bite you into submission
Pinch and squeeze
Smack and tease
Say please
I will go on
Long after you thought
To say no, until
All you want is
More, more, more
I will chew through you
I will dominate you
I dare you to struggle
My little **** toy
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 6:37 PM UTC
The wicked whip of word
Lashes welps upon
The starved psyche
Of the errogenous mind
Indeed the moment rises
In smoke and indigo sheets
Of layered heat pressing down
Into the flesh of desired
Impunity , iniquity , liquidity
Happy is a framed stated stanza
Of thine behind plastic cups
Of wine in sheds
Of gray aged wooden shingle
From long long ago
Was it "Bored-dough" or "Shabby"
Time will consume
But the experience
Leaves you panting
Thirsty for more
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 8:41 AM UTC
More haunting
Than the marks
Left on a tortured body
Are the marks
A tortured body
Leaves itself
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 11:10 AM UTC
You are the cool night breeze through my hair. You are the cigarette smoke in the air.
You are the stinging in my mouth. You are the place I want to build my house.
You are the kiss on my face. You are ancient feelings now misplaced.
You are crystal clear waters and the mud on my tires. You are the night we claim as "ours".
You are heated breath and sleepless hours.
You are the flames and explosions unto my towers.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 5:43 PM UTC
you said you don't want to hurt me
yet words lash like a whip
rending flesh from the heart
what is done, cannot be undone
words cannot be unspoken or unheard
unapologetic and cold
there is no bandage for the wounds
as the blood falls from my eyes
in sulfur and ash
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 6:02 AM UTC