"barebacked" poems
A sigh is a barebacked rider, soundless along a sandy coast,
A candle tipped with starlight, wheeling in a cosmos of smoke,
A firefly floating on the ruins of the wind like a winged gyroscope,
A skull in the stomach whose teeth are my own and breathes
With Babel’s thousand tongues telling fragrant untruths.
Feb 6, 2022
Feb 6, 2022 at 8:44 PM UTC
#prairiegrass dreams
*Across the Sandhills
wading into the untamed Niobrara
barebacked.. brown, and beautiful
Within her Misty Mountain dreams
she is heading my way.
Ah, sweet lord God almighty,
look at her go..
Westbound, she is best-found
right there.. on the edge
of these dreams of my own
Oh my lord..
look at that beautiful horsedream go
Will I be able to survive her..
I don't know
. . .
You feel him.. don't you, sweet one..
my beautiful Snickers
on that Gordon, Nebraska hill--
his home, his birthplace..
Until his beautiful spirit
one day.. finally found me
Striated and stoic
he is waiting for you..
To bring, you
the rest of the way home.
North now, into Dakota
as you bleed
with the Lakhóta
on a trail, split
between Pine Ridge..
and Wounded Knee.
Feel your war-torn Spirit
melt in to them
(you will not fall)
As you ride this black-maned dream
just a bit further North..
towards a man, named Paul
Within my own, I can feel you both
Ah hell, babe..
I can feel you all*
#
Sep 30, 2021
Sep 30, 2021 at 9:09 PM UTC
Can we just play ***** you and i?
I mean give me looks across the table, that you are disgusted with me, for taking my ******* off and dropping them in your crotch. I mean like you talk to another girl and glance at me, as if to say 'fuck you bitch', knowing you will **** me; Later.
Let's play ***** come on, i will welcome you in to my house, in stockings and leather, and push you against the wall; grab your hand and bend it back whilst i bite your neck. Push my knee between yours, and hold your chest in my hand whilst i make you watch me unbuckle you. Let me drag you on the floor, whilst you try to get up and say 'not here'.
Why can't we play *****
I don't want no ******* bedroom. I want the doorway, i want the hall, i want the kitchen counter, i want the living room floor and the shower. I want the couch, where i will straddle you and make you watch me as i undress myself for you, slowly, pulling, my, stocking down, so my knee is between your legs and i lean over you, so my ****** points out to your mouth, and i can hear you breathing, and every time you move towards me, i pull away.
Why can't we just play *****
Why can't you get me mad, and we argue so bad that i want to smash my fist in to your skull til you bleed all over my kitchen floor, brains on the washer...then pick me up, throw me on the bed, slap my face about, slap open my legs and grab my throat and the other hand on my chest as you push deep into me? Hear me gasp, watch my pupils widen, groan at you, watch as you come close to my ear, and say, 'this is what i ******* wanted'.
Why can't we?
Why can't we be deviants?
Why can't we go play in the forest?
Why can't we do like animals do?
Why can't we make two barebacked beasts in the moonlight?
Why can't we play *****
I touch your leg as you drive, playing the piano up and down your thigh, biting my lip, running my fingers up and down your thigh, nails pushing deeper, up and down, up and down, until you pull the car over, slam the brakes on, pull off your seatbelt and grab me, push the seat back, as i smile a secret smile as you breathe deeply in my ear as you pull off my wet knickers, and begin to take me on a journey through the stars.
Why can't we play *****
Shut your eyes. Shut your mouth. Shut everything, the, **** up. Listen to the beat of my heart, as it quickens and i place your hand over my chest, and i look in your eyes. Stop you talking about me, about what i am like, and who i am, and what it should be, and this and ******* that.
I don't want no tv before bed, i don't want no book, i don't want no midnight stargazing.
**** that **** **** me.
I want to play ***** with you.
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 4:58 PM UTC
i really do wish you no harm.
i hope you don't get pocket lint on your dum-dum,
because that would be tragic.
i hope the next girl you date doesn't bite.
even though, you deserve a gnarly girl
who can get low down and gritty.
i pray you don't fall going up the stairs
and slide all the freaking way down.
i wouldn't want a concussed friend
now would i?
i cross my fingers and shut my eyes,
wishing you a pretty girl with perfect teeth
and pale skin
and an american accent cuter than mine.
in bar. or no- in a basement.
i would never wish you the worst hangover that
you've ever had
with a headache so bad
you feel like you tried to go out with a bang (literally)
like kurt d. cobain, and survived.
if you aren't an uneducated swine and know who that is.
i hope you never feel heartache like this.
feeling your chest tighten with anvil heavy memories
and sun-kissed, barebacked truth because
you had to let go what you love
and love what you let go.
crying when you see "message me i get bored x"
in their bio on a tuesday night, for the first time in six months.
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 9:02 PM UTC
Saddle up
Gurl!
It's time
to hit the trail,
as quietly & gently
I spank the pony-
tail,
&
know,
it's how
I love you, baby..
You'll see me riding like the wind,
spurred on by our time & trials ~ that no-one got to win.
We were always mining Fools Gold & giggle indulging every sin!
Our
Poke(h)er
hands
stayed empty
&
the music's...
long since died.
Your sweet songs done,
gone & left me
(sobs)
tumbleweed rolls by
Once
we prospected forever
in this inky ol' ghost town
marking spots with X's before
a WANTED sign was found
and
One Moonshine
still
ain't big en'f 'f both of us
to get our quills thirst drowned
(hic-
cup)
"Look West,
and to the horizon,
see the stage at the edge of town?"
My last performance, PRIVATE, snigger to all the wide-eyed boys around
Ace-high, on a barebacked filly, play gallerying all my skills
I'll slap my thigh
&
Yee-haw !
riding for them there hills
~Saddled up in the softest leather
Chin up!Deep Breath!Chest out!
Corseted
& brimming,
encased in
perfume scented lace
~Bat my eyelids for the masses~
I'll find another place.
And
then you can
cut a swell down Main Street,
(remember the brothels to your right)
keep your low slung loaded though, for it's no place to start a fight
cos just outside that swing (ing) door,
the coffin maker winks at such a cheerful sight,
stood grimacing in his top hat,
grasping 13 nails
tight.
&
I'm sure
you'll measure up
darling
blowing rubied kisses
as
I bid
mine own
true-love's heart
goodnight.
***HiHO Silver,
away..........!***
Oct 12, 2012
Oct 12, 2012 at 5:33 PM UTC
In my dreams...
I ride barebacked on a white stallion,
Across the plains
I behold with vigilance
Where desert meets azure, sand meets sky.
There is no pollution; no smoke stacks
To **** and penetrate,
To change blue to violated gray.
The heavens are pure.
I ride barebacked on a white stallion,
By peaceful streams,
Along mountain ridges,
Where nature and I have communion,
There is no war, no rumors of war,
To depress and intimidate,
To make life insensible.
The world is harmonious.
I ride barebacked on a white stallion,
Among the wild horses;
They are my brothers.
Eagles and hawks fly together.
There is no hunter, no pursuer,
To **** and capture,
To infringe upon freedom.
The Earth is free.
I ride barebacked upon a white stallion,
Within my mind,
Into feigned sunsets,
Where Utopia is real to me.
There is no unreason, no absurdity,
To bewilder and unsettle,
To eradicate my certainty.
The dreams are real.
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
somewhere we might be beautiful
at the interruptions of light or
the cross sections of earth or
now
we’re all faded in the sun
dried out and tossed away back into the basket
like someone else’s ***** laundry
and
someone else is coming to fold us over
again
we’re barebacked in a black hole resemblance
just ******* the light out of the laughter
kissing the nothingness off our skin
try as i might
i can’t get the taste of tragedy out of my mouth
you and all the lullabies in languages i can’t fathom
i have no idea what the hell you’ve been saying all this time but
it sure sounded nice
like a nocturne for the nobodies,
the forgotten as a body politic
so fall back outta the spaces between us
i’m just trying to warn you of the curves ahead
of the caustic lovers curated by the utter carelessness
the words are falling from your hands in the form of snowballs
chucking away the weight of what you believe about this world
we hurl ourselves at the wind under the precept that
it’ll hurt less
to think about the things wilting underneath
three inches of a solution
melting away with the rest of us
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 9:38 PM UTC