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L Meyer Oct 2013
There once was a proper noun,
who started hanging with the wrong crowd.
With alluring adjectives who handed out compliments like candy
− gob smacking gossipers with an opinion on everything.
And with thrill-seeking adverbs,
who buddied up to the most dangerous of companions;
crash, dive, hurl, and gamble (to name a few).

Until the day the sentence came rambling into town,
planting punctuation in the form of kisses
on the noun’s eyelids, earlobes, and collarbone.

Provoking such admissions as, “My thighs stuck
to the black leather seats under the hot, cloudy skies
of that August afternoon, and my hair whipped
like willow branches in the wind,
when I rode on the back of his motorcycle.”
or, “He greets me every morning with a sun-drenched kiss”,
and, “The tulips were picked fresh from the ditch of
a curvy, country road, but now sit in a
vase by my bed, and are slowly wilting away.”

It would eventually be made clear
that the sentence had a nasty habit
of propositioning prepositions,
only to leave them hanging,
and to place things in parenthesis,
that simply did not belong.  

And so, the sentence would wind up leaving town,
or “run-on”, as the noun liked to tell it.
Went chasing after some particularly provocative expletives,
eventually trailing off with a faint set of ellipsis...

And the kindest of adjectives
came cooing after the noun,
calling to her; lovely, lustrous, listless.
And the adverbs brought with them
their gentlest of friends; comfort and console,
to speak with the noun:
softly, tenderly, lovingly- all witnesses.

But it was of no use,
and the noun whispered quietly:
“I have been enchanted with a single kiss
which can never be undone,
until the destruction of language.”


*based off of the poem Permanently, by Kenneth Koch
R King Mar 2013
Don't take my picture
it will steal my soul.
But the snapshot is taken
despite what was said.
And up high on a shelf
it in mute witness stands
to the flow of life
in the household.
Or as others before it
it is tossed in a box
forever entombed
fleeting glimpses of light.
Albums and scrapbooks
adorn it with cheer
to be shown off to many
but few really care.
Trapped in wallets
it sits grimy and smeared
buddied up with George.
Living in fear of a camera
afraid it will take you away.
For our time here is short
as the shutter flies
Don't take my picture
it will steal your soul.
L Seagull May 2016
Chinese say cursed is that glowing up in times of change

Childhood: sunny, monotonous, always limited
But predictable and warm
With a face of our sacred syphilitic
Soon to be desposed.  
Gramps the ****** he was, enjpying the forms of his son's whife
Shame wasn't his thing, neither was it my dad's
So he blinked, joked and turned
The other way
Grandma the saintly creature always a leader always so moral
When she read her bible, gave me sour aftertaste
To last through the years. Gossiper lady could start a war
Raising me an enemy to my own father. Why? I still don't know.
Uncle: the beautiful and charming creature of the void
Pleading begging blinking with long eyelashes
For treatment with what he was supposed to be treated against
Those beautiful gator tears...
Later - school, idiotic teachers,
Peers proud of crawling, the lowest wins!
Disillusionment started to sink in.
Are you still thinking? Weird!
No hopes, no dreams, no identity
No culture, no history
All thrown out the window
Music, values, inspiration and the rest
Revolution mades like to clear out space for the new beginnings
Starting from the point zero. Could have been neanderthals.
Slaves couldn't fix themselves some freedom
They only saw in movies.
They went with the flow -
papa government will feed, treat and raise
cattle that we were.
Are you questioning still?  Get in the line!
Looked up to crime and punishment
To learn my true heritage
All made sense, especially the urge to flea.
Could not breathe the airless any longer
Felt frog growing in my chest
******* out aspirations and infusing fears
Learned helpless buddied up to crows
And abandoned buildings.
And a joint on the edge of the roof was one thing
To make me feel alive.
Almost married one day then awoke
With a startle packed bags
Five hundred bucks in my sock
And away I flew.
To learn you never gain without a loss
Anyone struggling to come up with new topics?Interested in playing a little poetry game? Send me a message
Qualyxian Quest Mar 2023
I admit, attentive reader
I would like to be studied
El Futuro friendship
El Futuro buddied

Universities? Yes
But also monasteries
Also foreign females
Also Irish Fairies

My bookshelf is browning
Vinyl records on the floor
Bodhisattva, Bodhisattva
Like opening a door

                4044

                  Or? ...

— The End —