"blotter" poems
The wet dawn inks are doing their blue dissolve.
On their blotter of fog the trees
Seem a botanical drawing --
Memories growing, ring on ring,
A series of weddings.
Knowing neither abortions nor bitchery,
Truer than women,
They seed so effortlessly!
Tasting the winds, that are footless,
Waist-deep in history --
Full of wings, otherworldliness.
In this, they are Ledas.
O mother of leaves and sweetness
Who are these pietàs?
The shadows of ringdoves chanting, but chasing nothing.
36.1k
Cray-Z...
*You know that you are, ******* crazy?*
*Think up a new grand goal to meet,
then drop the blotter, -to compete.*
*Are you movin' on up?
to the top, to a deluxe compartment in your mi-ind?*
Lenny?
Saul admired David...
"Admired,"
him.
dissolved him in, David.
*You know that you are, ******* crazy?*
*Look at the hands, -they swirl in, ceiling paint...
Thinking like this the world is NO constraint.*
Fuzzy
Futzy
Fickle
Fiber
Pick a pickle Whitley Streiber.
*Gargle,
Gasp, rinse and repeat.*
*Then Devil for the Heaven's seat,
and find a tiny child to eat,
for tasty things water mouth with treat,
nothing stained by water's meet or tendered strangely as complete.*
Crazy...
Carpet fibers tickle my neck.
I am a house.
Household item.
Bleach feels funny on the fingers,
they still won't change color back?
*Think up a new grand goal to meet,
then drop the blotter, -to compete.
Then Devil for the Heaven's seat,
and find a tiny child to eat,
for tasty things water mouth with treat,
nothing stained by water's meet or tendered strangely incomplete.*
Crazy you know that you are...
...is that wall supposed to be flashing?
!!!!GET OFF MY ROCKER!!!!*
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 9:25 PM UTC
Who are you
to tell me
to wear a Salwar kameez or a turtle neck
Who are you
to say that my body lacks flesh
Who are you
to make my body a symbol of *** appeal
Wait!!
you are no one
But someone who
Doesn't embrace one's body
Because
For me
My body is not a piece of meat
My body is not up for a bid
Moreover
You are no one
To tell me
To veil my ***** with blotter
And my hips with a rucksack
You better
Keep your ravenous eyes away
That try to strip me with its gaze
But say whatever you want to say
Because now i don't bother about your ******* comments anyway.
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 12:52 PM UTC
You're my LSD Nightmare
You, the truth, the light, the way
You're my LSD Nightmare
The man who made the blotter
Did not realize the gate he had opened
And when I went through it
I wondered where I had gone
You, my LSD Nightmare
I love you, I love you, I lived in you
I am your eyes and I see your face
You, beautiful life, I confide in you
I wandered towards you and I saw in your eyes
I saw the sadness of thousands of years
I saw the sorrow of all the lost children
I wished I could tell you, but you were forgotten
When I finally found you, we lost our listlessness
We tumbled through the circles of time,
And found it all back where I'd left you
I love you, I loved you, I lived in you
And when I return, I'll tell you what I saw
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 1:43 PM UTC
*how many ways may i undo you ...
each sublime
i crave your vermilion waters
copper gilded plush
falling to my hungry naked mouth
drug euphoria
drooling ***** toy
as i stroke your ankles
with tender fingers
and brush your delicate feet with my lips
before i lift you
floating girl
and you lose yourself
thanking God
for the inconceivable pleasure
of unbearable pain
as you are split and ruptured open
oh pink flowers splashing
in a stained tub
of
blood like a blotter
sanguine perfume
mouth melting kisses
heaping vulva's detonations
adorations petition
am i not vulturous
holding you in my warm arms
while i whisper in the caverns of your hollow breath
that you mean the world to me
i drink rain storming from torrid gates howling
from your cleaved ******* and unfurled belly
your eyes
moons trembling
immersed in your fathomless yawning soul
as you take your last breaths
tell me baby
is it tender cruel
are angels kissing you yet
are you caressed by powder pearlescent clouds
are you butter on the lips of God
while dark curtains flutter and shut
while i weep and convulse
in heaping waves of ecstasy
there is only you
like
heavens thunder*
Jun 4, 2017
Jun 4, 2017 at 3:55 PM UTC
*The fundamental phenomena in nature are symmetrical
with respect to interchange of past and future.* --- Richard Feynman
Millions for Defense
In the Cabinet room of Monticello, clutching Decatur's letter,
the President removes his wire-rimmed glasses ---
Frigate Philadelphia has been burned.
Decanting a bourbon, he pours and quaffs.
Outside in the piazza the cicadas' din is unbroken.
The Pasha of Tripoli has his tribute!
In three short hours warm rays of sunlight
will greet the outstretched arms of Earth,
but for now the bourbon scintillates.
Ink splatters on the blotter,
as he pounds a clenched fist upon the desk.
Not one cent!, he pronounces to the wall-clock.
Cicadas hold sway in the Charlottsville night,
but on the Barbary Coast a fire is raging.
Feb 23, 2012
Feb 23, 2012 at 9:39 AM UTC
Dust is so evasive;
Clingy like an adverse abrasive
Who's dullness never fails to catch an eye..
Or a cough or to cover any canvas of life...
The depth of the dirt is profound,
ashes collect below your ebbing eyes,
You drown at midday, in quilted air,
Kept in the death mask of dust.
in the muted morning, sun sweeps through the curtains,
a bright blotter of those particles that paste your hair.
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 3:26 PM UTC
I'm not happy.
Though warm like the pavement
Of a highway
On a freezing, summer night.
You can't tell because the blotter runs on strong.
I would die by your hands
Day by day.
Like a modern-day Prometheus
Sequence, substance, ether eager eyeballs
Stalling, stalling, stalling.
Call me forward.
Come hither, darling. You are so magic
Your face makes me break
Your eyes fill my heart with lye
It burns so much to see you
my chest and eyes and mind
My skull is an inferno uncontrollable
Inconsolable.
Darling, you will know
The meaning of undertow
And you have had me know
The true meaning of being low
Dead dreams, dead memories
Your eyes inside me
You haunting my dreams
Every night, another reason
To wake up to burning, red eye-sockets
Red rockets
Sky high
Firework death
Beautifully turning away from me.
I wish you cared and missed the fair because I didn't want to see you there.
I twist and turn and lose my hair all because you can not care.
Stare, stare, stare, stare. Haunting, haunting, taunting, haunting
Please leave me alone.
Please be there for me every day.
As a best friend.
But quit appearing in my dreams.
Witch.
Sep 6, 2010
Sep 6, 2010 at 8:35 AM UTC
Austerity emblazoned in silk
fallen out of the ranks
in the popularity stakes
the iced tea on the hob
warmingingly out of character
Do you recall turning the page of irony
yellowed blotter, signature book
of those you'll never meet again
autographed in old inked scrawl
holed up with cobwebbed coats
Well, they don't bother you now
even though they stared you down
head hunted the perfect prefect of popularity
seeking you to check out the aged paper trail
their current capabilities warranting a slice
Settling, the nest felt comfy
nurturing, gifts placed at your feet
you dislodged the parrot from your shoulder
it left its calling card, a neat reminder,
chatted up colourful clowns in the corner
Squatting within a lurch of emotion
fried eyed, stop tap turned off
zero shifting into first place
cashing in their deposit too late
they paid in full willingly....it seemed
Steamrollered, you left the game
parked your plastic smile
scrubbed clean the mossy mess
sat back amongst daisy/buttercup armies
felt the hot poker of rejection, water.....devoured it
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 8:45 AM UTC
at the dining hall
swipe me in please
hunger runs wild among the domestic wolves
all licking their chops
salivating over some new meal ticket
people swirling around and around
trying to assemble a life
from the rubble of those before them
I’m building sand castles
filled with sea shells
to cut the feet of oblivious children
not vindictive, but I see your point
who put this song on?
nothing but wailing fat ladies
and droning piano loops
make me a chart topping heart stopper
blotter paper and eye droppers
we used to fill our journal with raps
because at the time G-Unit was in
but we grew up to fill dream journals
with wild cowboy hay-makers
please let this be the one
the one to sweep me away
to paparazzi and front porches
and good loving
and I’m an instant-gratification limelight right now
kinda guy
with a crooked smile
and a poem on the tip of my tongue
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 3:26 PM UTC
I'm having trouble breathing
It doesn't hurt
It's actually kind of nice.
This tension in my lungs
Is because of your love
And in my ribcage there are mice.
Maybe it's a little morbid
Rather than to say butterflies
But those can be freed with a sigh.
Maybe it's a little demented
But I like it that way
I wear a noose as a tie.
I guess I'm probably backwards
To say the least
I prefer blood to water.
Your love is psychotic
Like a psychedelic trip
From a blotter.
It's so nice
As wrong as asphyxiation sounds
But it's as macabre as it is pleasing.
And if you were to leave
The warmth of my body
Would undoubtedly turn to freezing.
Jun 3, 2011
Jun 3, 2011 at 11:14 AM UTC
You're back and I've only been asking four years and two days. My passion never left, it only paved your way. Outside it's gotten colder than the weatherman will even say. The skies may stay clear but everything is gray. I wait for you on the tarmac with bouquets, four years yesterday it was to be my grave.
Everything and its nothingnesses made me black and blue, I was just ink blotter on a finger's noose, nonsense and writer's gloom. Some of me was hexed by my work, some of my flesh became unglued. My eyes may have resurrected a figure, but I can't be sure it's you. I'm at the Bay Bridge with weights tied to my shoes, where even the water can't judge my moves.
People lie to keep themselves as far away from their truth. Many can't even talk to you unless they have a drink or two. ****** and benzos too. Skinny vexed spirits accrue, walking into the waves until their skins turn blue.
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 12:50 PM UTC
.
---To be content in a mad, mad world,
to be the last sane man to see
absolutely nothing in the ink blotter clouds
marching across an azure sky like pigs
to slaughter,
laughing until the final bomb blast
vaporizes our vocal chords.
Ripe and vibrating like a
tuning fork in A.
Where insanity falls like rain,
we're driven mad by the patter.
Drip, drip...
Madness took over Dallas last
Saturday morning.
---The oceans will to rise tomorrow.
Do you live on the coast? East, west?
Run to the hills like the bleating sheep.
Bleating and bleeding...
Stampeding!
How long can a person tread
water surrounded
by shark & man?
Not long...
Not long.
.
Mar 3, 2012
Mar 3, 2012 at 1:54 AM UTC
*His Hair Was The Color Of Summer Straw,
His Eyes Were Hazel As Ocean Waters,
His Enchanting Gentle Touch Has No Flaw,
He Dries My Black Inked Tears With A Blotter,
His Smile Warms Me On The Coldest Of Days,
His Masculine Hands Mend The Wounds I Bare,
He Leads Me Across Streams, Mountains, And Bays,
Yet He Is Tame Enough To Stroke My Hair,
He Tenderly Smiled And Held My Hand,
He Whispered--He Loved Me More Than Ever,
That When He Saw Me It Was Hard To Stand,
And If I Wasn't His--He Would Endeavor
The Sun Beacons--A Beginning Of Love,
Snow White Wings Spread Elegant As A Dove's*
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 8:41 PM UTC
Kaleidoscope raindrops fill in low eyes,
and blotter tab lunatics jump up high-
Alice is missing! Chesire's loose!
The Jabberwock is drinking a burning juice
The ceiling's melting, and the clock's been moved;
Hey White Rabbit, you're gonna get bruised.
We need order in our not-so-sober minds,
Oh, Mad Hatter! Could you be so kind?
Have you seen the Caterpillar yet?
Where is he- can you bet?
I'm willing to gamble; that's not tobacco in his pipe-
Let it be known; he's high as a kite!
Alice, oh Alice...
What have you done?
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
Opening 6 am eyes
To squealing leaf blower,
time-squinching
******* tightening siren,
a drone for your eyes to
float inside,
A sudden soundtrack
to text Message suicides,
, bitterbombs ,
from New York
The words pop up wobbly,
glossy, bobbling around
to the beat of their sender’s
notions
Distressed as he wakes to the sting in his eyes
And envisions your eyes
opening after,
succeeding,
Not alarmed yet.
still separate from the void
where his thoughts
haven’t occurred yet.
Projected comics
play out in both minds,
saracastic kids,
bouncing around like
blotter acid making
escstatic pangs of
it all.
While the world drives on
A steaming freight train
heading straight through Kansas
To Alberquerque
To beyond
Until were back again going to sleep
In love with our pillows.
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 8:49 AM UTC
Bobby brown came down
And let me have a smoke
Talkin bout the rave scene
I don't want to go
He handed me a monkey
Eat your scooby snack
We walked downtown
To solid ground
To hear the cats meow
Yellow lights flash
In
And out
He threw me for a loop the loop
When he took me underground
But the chemical well-being
Kept me safe and sound
The lights were heaven
The dark was heaven
The lips were heaven
The sound
Like a million *******
Gave you the chillies
Don't wink or kiss the ground
One girl
Two girl
Three girl four
I don't dance
Not in this trance
A corner captain loud
I could see from my perch
In the corner of earth
That the ladies liked the beat
But I'm just a boy
In a room of noise
Looking for some sleep
I met billy the kid
With his nose full of ****
And his mouth leaking neon blue
His girlfriend
Sid had less hair than me
But her smile was sure right on for sure
I could tell in a hurry
That her mind wasn't blurry
Someone I could try talking to
She said
It may twenty third
Flipped me the bird
I was trippin or tripper I think
I loved her white skin
As it flashed in the din
Her black nails like daggers were sound
She pointed the nails
At like five different rooms
Telling me about working parts
There you've got boys who dance to the noise
Like techno party new
You have does over there
Flowers and hair
Rolling hard before midnight dream
Two glasses of water
A tab of the blotter
And I was gone before ten thirty three
I lost bobby brown
To the tongue of the crowd
The speakers spoke
I have a dream
The crowd all
Cheered
But sound like a herd
Of a thousand white horses
Coming after me
Blue licks
Red licks
Light trips
My heart
I closed my eyes
For a minute of time
Electrons falling apart
I was thirsty and worried
I left in a hurry
Your brain looks like this on drugs
But when I looked at my phone
To see about the time
It's only midnight o clock
Jan 15, 2012
Jan 15, 2012 at 6:42 PM UTC
We all know that
sometimes we have to let go.
A case of,
'press and release to win some peace'
it becomes pointless to hold on to what's gone,a feeling so dull almost like
bottling sunbeams once they have shone and finding those beams do not shine quite so bright,will not light up the darkness if you stay in the night,
we have to let go,have to let yesterday flow with the ebb of the tide,inside the minds of some men there's a pen that writes queries,writing the forehead with lines,
the weary should know if they'll only let go they will find the blotter to mop up the ink,there's a link between here ,now and then, it's how you perceive it and when you believe it you'll know
that
sometimes we have to let go.
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 1:38 AM UTC
We all know that
sometimes we have to let go.
A case of,
'press and release to win some peace'
it becomes pointless to hold on to what's gone,a feeling so dull almost like
bottling sunbeams once they have shone and finding those beams do not shine quite so bright,will not light up the darkness if you stay in the night,
we have to let go,have to let yesterday flow with the ebb of the tide,inside the minds of some men there's a pen that writes queries,writing the forehead with lines,
the weary should know if they'll only let go they will find the blotter to mop up the ink,there's a link between here ,now and then, it's how you perceive it and when you believe it you'll know
that
sometimes we have to let go.
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC
Decapitated sunflowers
-a sharp line, where summer ends
A thousand memories bursting in mind
Old paths
A pine, wind, balcoon
Water, bike and towel, (hot soft wind, shade)
Wood's structure and a car ride in the morning
A grasshopper, august dim-cold(yet warm) day
Languid,
heavy,
slow
A tattered blotter on my tongue
Sweat, tree bark and cycling
A pipe, movie & then sleep & bus travel
And we're back where we started
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 9:24 AM UTC
The world was changing all around me
I began seeing smells and smelling colors
and children's faces began blooming like flowers.
Then in an instance of pause I came about something;
The stars. They remind me of something in this place
The shooting stars remind me of the forgotten wishes left behind by the forgotten children.
The glowing moon reminds me of town square; The brothel for advertisements
A thought...
Could it be that this blotter is the catalyst for change?
Would it open up your eyes and let you envision
A perfect world?
A perfect match?
A perfect dream?
Dec 2, 2010
Dec 2, 2010 at 2:29 PM UTC
You never shun a losing Fjord Complete in Complexion the wings spread condiments Spicy, Fancy, Crass, abstract, **** Me!
I fathom Ecstasy she was a red-dressed lady
a triple stack with no increase, a flip flop with no feet a detail is in the deveiled screenings x-rays why oh why is it beyond zebra the white out chugging contest versus the ink quills blotter confess the clock strikes one-one and i'll be waking with the rest of the caffience junkyard laden intestines pushing up green paper weights crying out for I dent these at the top of my lungs until screech my larynx without break pads on my stolen blue bicycle hiking with a false sense of love taxed at cents to the dollar, bills fold and languish close to the pavement later and later I relish of dill pickles thanking Bob as his savior, I'll leave it for the rest of the heaving centurions, the pieces of these ones, I shatter and rattle the matted fish fabric
Disaster
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
Night, night...
hammer handle.
Unzip this skin
& spill the salt.
Moon veers to ink
as it dreams
through the screen,
& darkness rides
the blotter.
Clouds cough,
sick over the spot
where you slept.
Mar 10, 2021
Mar 10, 2021 at 9:44 AM UTC