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Amy Irby Jun 2015
Mighty arms give a tender cuddle from behind
Eternal heater
Sensation of chest and stomach against spine
"tell me a secret"
soft lips on foreheads and noses
narwhals nudge
"I've got a secret ..."
"What's that?"
"You make life, interesting ..."
" … Good or bad?"
"Good ... you show me things I've never done before."

My name is Barnacle, calcified to you
Your name is Boa constrictor, squeezing till the last breathe
Inadequate sum of memories, so
drifting nowhere any time soon
thank you all for reading and for adding me to the "A Notch Above the Daily Fluff" Collection. Thank you friends
Dominique Apr 21
Boa
It crystallizes in my veins; turns my lungs
Thick,
The breath I expel viridian.
Scaly knots of rope-
Dragon's tails, mermaid's fins-
Wrap around my
Waist, snug,
Unrelenting, clouding up my eyes
With pools of unclean-

Algae-

And I can't breathe so I
Just listen to the mites:
The emerald toothed,
Well-armed mites
Scribbling

- "solvent"-

Words
On the vessel-bloom underside
Of my skin which flares,
Madly,
In response.

I plead with the waves to die down,
For the ocean not to take me,
Just yet,
Not there.
I sink,

And the cells which cover my veins
Wail a hoarse requiem (which remains)
Insisting softly that-
Despite it all-

My corpse is on fire.

Extinction is jade.
Green is the chaos I've made.
My breath is gone
King Panda Feb 2016
I know the flowers better everyday
their twisting stems
their curtain petals
their floating spice

I know the flowers better everyday
their capillary roots
their plum faces
their purple stamens

I know the flowers better everyday
their shaking seeds
their modest thorns
their unabashed lust for the sun

I know the flowers better everyday
I know the sun will rise
I know the clouds will rain
I know my daughter will laugh

I know the flowers better everyday
I’ll draw a fence for flowers
I’ll draw a muzzle for the sheep
I’ll draw a number for the man to crunch

I know the flowers better everyday
I know how lovely it is to feel
grass in between toes
the breath of a boa
the embrace of home

I know the flowers better everyday
I am forty
I am a mother
I love fearlessly
Inspired by *The Little Prince*
Dina?
Deanna?
Deena?

What was her name?
A diminutive of something
Or a shortening.
And I don’t even think that I am close

I miss you.

a small concrete table
white
a group of girls
Smoking and smoking and smoking
Trading lipgloss
I don’t remember what we talked about

But I do remember that the meds made you so
Hungry
“Are you gonna eat that?”

That’s how it begins in such places
Passing off a cig
Or trading processed food
Or just giving it away.

Have a lie down
or hand over the pill stored in your cheek
for someone
needier.

You said after your second plateful of anything
Make sure you let me know if I start getting fat

I tried not to follow you around
We had breakfast
Cigarette breaks
lunch and dinner
I could have sat with you all day and night

But I let you roam like a yearling
talking too much to too many people
Spinning around in the hallways
The skinny girl
on the floor doing a striptease on her back
in the streaming sunlight
I could tell
That you got paid for this at some point
Even the imaginary boa scared these boys

You loved to talk about God
I, however, do not

You loved a ****** ******
They were your favorite
and would reminisce with the junkies
Always sitting close-by
You claimed that you could make a man cry
By what you could do to his body
I can only imagine
what you’ve done so far
At your age
and you have a kid

I know
that you’re frightened
to be alone
with your mother
She’s so small
You wouldn’t want to hurt her

And I see her
that one time
with candies and soda
that you made her bring from
the 99 cent store to share
with all these people that don’t like you
that she is
a tiny thing
Yes
anyone could crush her
I see your point.

Deena
Dina
Deana

I can’t remember your name

You’d wake me for breakfast
Or, I you
You said the voices never stop in your head
Not just voices but other strange noises too
You acted like it was
a drag
But in fact you were **** scared

I can hear sounds too I offered
Bells
And Strings
Faint Voices calling my name
Offering succinct advice
Can’t everyone?
Leaning against a wall
with you at my feet
I saw your head snap
To the right
I said
Don’t worry
I heard that too
And you were so relieved
You grasped my feet in gratitude

You said that you are three.
Dread is the bad one
a male
And another
a ****** female who’s name
I can’t remember either
I suggested that there were more
Perhaps.
I met the ***** and I did not like her
at all
In anger I returned your sweatshirt
And you said
You know she’s terrible
I told you that
Take back the shirt
It’s cold

The men here don’t understand
our
Relationship
They assume that it’s lovey
Their minds are blown by
Companionship in difficult circumstances
Holding hands might help you through
You never know until you try

You loved to have arguments over the Bible
I would make a lot of noise to shut it down
I cannot listen to that
You would talk on that phone on the wall
With the father of your child
About god
You missed your boy’s
first day
of kindergarten
You called him on that phone to make sure that he got the plastic truck
or some such toy in your absence

I wonder when you gave up your life
When an injection of Ativan in your ***
and a night
In an darkened empty room
Bound
became an ideal resolution.
You couldn’t figure out
why you had a lump on your head
And I explained that
it was the result of
banging it repeatedly
against the wall.
Side effects of Lorazepam include:
Little recall

You seemed to have a plan.
Visiting and writing up the coast
The Dean Moriarty of Hospitals
But what about your kid?
The doctors say you can’t leave until you’re well
I couldn’t even tell what’s wrong exactly
Or what he’s really trying to tell you
Other than too much too soon
But that’s every girl in LA
Isn’t it?
You said that
It
Emerged at age 24.

I think about your son.
I can’t believe that you have one.
And your mother
Who adopted you.
What did she in fact bring home?

Deanna.
Dina.

When they called to say that my car was here
That I could go
You covered my neck
With kisses
And said Thank You Thank You
I Don’t Know
What I Would Have Done Without You

What is your name?

Dee.
D.
Just the letter.
I remember
Thank you.
Andrew Dec 2017
They either say "We'll spend some time"
Or they say "Well, never mind"
Is it the apostrophe
That makes us we?
Or is it a mentality
That sets us free
To changes
And ranges
Of open thoughts and feelings
That bring us together
Until negativity starts stealing
And our connections we sever

We'll feel well
After escaping the hell
That is the difference between well and we'll
But they will not be the hands that heal
When they act like adding the apostrophe
Is tantamount to apostasy
So they wield sabres
Of different flavors
Like the shallow gravers
And the glow stick ravers
That look good on paper
Until they are erased
When I need their embrace
I'm left hanging
Like an apostrophe
Putting me down
Into a comma coma
Leaving holes in me
Like a drama stoma
Constricting
Like a mama boa

You're your apostrophe
When you take away being
And turn something into a possession
You channeled my overt obsession
Then punctuated with aggression
The end of our sentence

I can't survive this period of my life
When savages cause serious strife
By adding small marks to me
Until it becomes too dark to see
In the shadow of their apostrophe
Michael Sep 2018
Beyond the sidewalk
Find her at play
She’s the hostess of a tea party
Her dolly’s suitor can’t be late
Then it’s off to play glamour
In her favorite part of the house
But first to the attic and the trunk of stuff
And a pull a fleece boa out
Then to the chair for make up
Perfection with a smudge
Oh mirror turn away
What has become of love?
Beyond the sidewalk
Find her on the swing
Watching the clouds (go back and forth)
As the sun makes bursts, and beams
Then it’s off to the tree fort
(Where her prince is fending off squirrels
I mean ferocious forest monsters)
There’s no one like him in the world
So it’s off to have a picnic
On the front porch creaky swing
Fighting monsters for his princess
Makes a knight a little lean
She reaches over
To wipe the grape jam from his chin
He says “tomorrow I’ll be a baseball star”
She says “then I’ll be Marilyn”
Written for Michelle; Copyright 2002
A Rivers Sep 2018
Shes a knock out girl, Ten out of ten
Inspiriring ideas more indecent than interesting
Rolling hips and cheeky winks make all the boys hide swollen *****
And yet no one wants to date her
They speak in whispered tones over smothered phones
"She's got secret!"
But deaf men don't hear the hushed
So when she says yes to a date he's only chuffed
And when the date goes well and she invites him to her place
He notices she has thighs made for cheeks to graze
They fool around downstairs flirting and drinking
Kissing and more
His endorphin levels begin to soar
she leads him to her room and opens her door...

...And?...

...The **** is that?

Is it real?

Is it fake?!!

Is that a ******* snake!

An enormous boa
Kills his *****
Nows the time to run
This is 100% a true story
zebra Jun 2018
while deep deep asleep
a beautiful woman appeared
with silky black hair
shinning like licorice lacquer,
crystal blue eyes,
cherry plush lips
silver iced razor blade earing's
knuckled skull ring through her nose
and an undulating golden snake spiral wrapped around her throat
slinky like a spry kitten, and demure in form
with curving hips
in a slow-motion sway

falling up
i'm light like a puff cloud
in skin that fires the night
as walls faded and  symmetries cascaded into spiraled eddies

she whispered
high handsome hows it hangin
in a voice like cool jazz
come to momma
she called in a jealous growl

yes, mama, i said
trembling with love
as jungle vines
wrap like a circulating boa
inhabiting me

oooooowww
mama what a thrill
i wept
i breathe her in like dusty *******
garden roses and fertile earth

i've come for you my darling she said
you want me, don't you?
biting her lips
with big hopeful eyes

oh yeah i do
i'm in love with you
i've always loved that dark thing that limps within me
i whispered

she smiled rubbing my oiled ****
with long-fingered strokes glaring

well i love you too sweet boy

we kissed so softly, so warm, so slow, and fragrant
deliriously voluptuous
her tongue
like a fluttering wing in flames
her kisses
gleaming razor bites that excite with pain

she looked at me quizzically
muttering
there's something funny about you
crazy boy

what, i said
funny to  
Satan in a Red Crimson Dress?

you're not right, i cant find your soul
she exclaimed, panicked
oh that, i said
look closer my love  
i held her hard into me
like solder fuses metal
look  deep between my eyes

**
**
**
hole
holy
holeeee
****
she said
her eyes shapeshifted into black electrical tape
as her head exploded into flames

what do you see, i asked?
she studied the inside of my skull
like a Williamsberg
Jewish diamond dealer

thine eye is single
the self-effulgent light
irreducible and perfect
shining greater than a million suns
you're a ****** cyclops
with divine sight

**** me, she squealed
i've always wanted to **** God
i'm your
S&M
baby
queen snake belly dancer from hell
and there's nothing you can't do

so
we ****** like colliding  suns
brooding bleeding dying being born
born-less
tears fell like sheets of glass
constellations  gave birth to constellations
and
reanimated endlessness

we  missed each other
my sweet darkling Nuit
i groaned

oh yes
my beautiful lord
she sobbed

and we drowned in each other's embrace
in  tears that reunite
tears of enormous pain
tears of unfathomable love

i held her, our lips lept wild tongues
our ******* consuming each other like fire melts stone

cratered moons shook the worlds of men to pieces
and all creatures melded
all nouns became verbs
high and low fell vanquished
heads and tails faced each other
darkness and light clutched in copulation
good and evil merged
all spines of fire
and up through the skull
beyond the vails of paradise
convulsing in endless incalculable raging *******
quickening eternal multiplying force
giving birth to endless chromatophore's  of incandescent sky
that expanded both in volume and rectitude

dis-juncture became infinite smoothness
history stopped repeating itself
consciousness and subconsciousness became indistinguishable
three dimensions  became innumerable
cats  ****** dogs
planets ceased crossing each other
escalation heaped on  escalation
physics gave birth to trans physics
and everybody understood everything
without a single thought

we cuddled up sweet as candy
kisses never ceasing
and all of time disappeared
this poem is a metaphor for the ascent of the serpent power
Kundalini
patty m Nov 2018
What if,
flies were made from flypaper,
and birds from
bird-nest soup?
What if the monkey had
a wrench he could call his own,
and cats that were lion
told the truth?

Then the energy of it all
could be a bright blue ball
as the world
becomes a crazy zoo;
Where parrots can
be polyglots,
and rhinos,
rhinoplasty.
and I can be a horseman and
toucan think of more.

Perhaps the boa could be
soft as ostrich feathers,
and the bear would hug
us close and dry our tears.

The moral of story
isn't serious that's true,
if goats can be kids,
then I can be ewe.
Madison Aug 2018
Forever ago
I looked you in the eye
And made a promise --
A stupid, stupid vow --
That I'd be your Bonnie
If you'd be my Clyde.

You smiled at me --
Crooked, imperfect
Utterly charming --
And asked me to lend you a light.
A lighter passed between our hands
Before a tiny flame illuminated our faces in the dark
A silent 'I do.'

From that night on
I've had things that other girls
Only possess in their wildest dreams
And, even then
Wouldn't dare say they desired.

I ride shotgun by default
In a ******* car
Much too fancy to legally be yours.
Gifts come in the form
Of beat-up leather articles
That you once wore
Though the lingering shadow of smoke
Is hardly enough
To mask the hint of drugstore perfume.
Sometimes
If you're feeling especially charitable
These offerings are accompanied by the more traditional heart shaped box --
Filled with bullets, of course--
Or a single deep red rose.
For some reason
Every flower you pick
Seems to have many more thorns
Than most of the ones I've known before.

What you seem to consider the best gift of all, however
Is your presence.
I suppose you think it works both ways
When you parade around town
Arm slung around my shoulders or waist
Smiling like I'm some pricey badge
Your signature accessory.
Your performance draws attention, of course --
Awe-stricken once-overs
Envious double takes
Lingering looks that make overzealous Average Joes
Trip over their own feet.
As far as my own feelings go
The envious rush I used to get from the lust-filled eyes of other women
Has long since faded
But the crawling feeling of some depraved pervert's eyes flitting from you to me
And your proud smile, devoid of any visible love
Continue to make my stomach twist itself into painful knots.

What all those adventure-hungry good girls don't know
Is that I haven't felt as powerful as they do in their dreams
In a very long time.
What those green-eyed Plain Janes won't understand
Is that I am little more than arm candy
Your passenger-seat second-in-command
Posed like some special edition, leather-donning Barbie doll
Instructed to sit still
Hold the gun
Look pretty.
They don't realize
That the ache that comes with loving you
Feels absolutely nothing like the feeling described
In the lovelorn writings they post to their blogs.
There's nothing beautiful about it
No reward for staying up all night
Chest aching
Sobbing into a limp pillow in some random hotel room
Trying my best to keep you from hearing it.
As much as I hate to admit it
Nothing you do for me
Makes it worth it.

They all seem to forget
That it was Bonnie
Running from one man who didn't love her
Falling into the arms of another
Already broken
Hoping he might be able to mend a piece or two.
They don't realize
That it was Bonnie
Who **** near got her leg burned off
Because Clyde flipped the car.
The fault was completely his
And yet
She was the one who took the brunt of the damage
Being reduced to having Clyde carry her around
For the rest of their numbered days.
They don't stop to think that this is anything other than 'romantic'
How unfair it is that the world allowed him to ruin her
That maybe --
Just maybe --
She didn't want to be a weapon for him to carry
But a self-firing rifle.
Something intimidating
Unpredictable
Never dependent
On some hotshot
That everybody believes that she was in love with.
The idea never occurs to them
That maybe
When the two of them went down in that infamous hail of bullets
Maybe she wasn't enveloped in warm thoughts of going out in a blaze of glory
But anger
That she didn't get away with it this time
And never would again.


I understand now
That
For all intent and purposes
Bonnie and Clyde are a concept that should have been left behind
Way back in the 30s.
There is no passion
In dying --
On the inside or the outside --
Next to someone everyone thinks that you love.
There is no love
In your arm around me
Squeezing the humanity out of me
Like a man-shaped boa constrictor.
There is no glamour
In sitting loyally by your side
Gripping my seat until my knuckles are white
As you drive your own getaway car
Laughing to yourself
Without ever chancing a glance at me.
There is no beauty
In being wrapped in a jacket
That smells like another woman
No satisfaction
In mechanically handing you a brand new lighter
So you can light another cigarette
To prematurely age your beautiful, James Dean number one-million-and-one face.
I feel no affection now
Watching you smoke up like the nicotine glutton burnout that you are
And I will feel only contempt if --
Heaven forbid --
I ever die by your side.
You exhale
And turn to look at me with sleepy, empty eyes
Letting the remains of your cigarette flicker out
Just like the novelty of having you around did.

Why I resent those girls now --
The ones with those eyes, so hungry and green with envy --
Is that, when we first met
I was just another one of them.
So pampered
So inanely bored
Such a 'hopeless romantic'
That I promptly decided to follow you the ends of the Earth
To every grimy hotel
Even to our demise in the desert, if you wanted me to.
It took me forever to realize I deserved better
And, by then
It was all too late.

While I despise those girls who stare at us now
Swooning, like they're so jealous of the position I'm in
My heart also aches for them --
A bit like the way you make it ache.
Though there's passion in this ache
That being the fact
That my heart is screaming
Telling them to run
Run while they still can
Run before someone like you
Finds them.

For all intent and purposes
There absolutely should not be
A 21st century Bonnie and Clyde.
These should be the days
Of girls spitting their own fire
And boys fighting their own battles.
This should be a generation
Of people learning to find solace in themselves
And reliance taking an unceremonious dive
Off a very steep cliff.
There should be no more green-eyed girls
And James Dean boys
Making each other miserable
And calling it beautiful.
This is the point where we should let Bonnie and Clyde rest in peace
Along with Romeo and Juliet
Annabel Lee
Homer Barron
And every other tragic antihero
Who died at the hands of love.

Forever ago
I made a promise --
A stupid, stupid vow --
That I'd be your Bonnie
If you'd be my Clyde.
Now
What seems like centuries later
I close my eyes
And try to fly somewhere else
In my dreams.
My last thought
Before I drift off
Is that --
Maybe someday --
They'll write poems about us.

— The End —