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keni Dec 2021
In the winter  you go
went south of here.
A place where my parents grew up.
Where spring is always.

Bye bye black
chinned hummingbird
I'll tell mom you left
so that they can have
want you wanted.

When the breeze is sweet,
and maybe bit melancholic,
You'll come back to
flowers that bloom.

Now don't you worry
if they don't love you.
You're back black chinned
hummingbird and I welcome
you again.
10:28 am
John F McCullagh May 2013
Ray Lewis, your spokesman
is ripped and he's lean.
He's built like Adonis
and, by rep, very mean.
If I use "old Spice" body wash
as per his advice.
The ladies will swoon
as I'll smell so **** nice.

I'm short fat and Jewish-
a Nebbish at heart.
In intimate settings
I'm quite prone to ****.
So I bought "Old Spice" body wash
and lathered it on.
Then I entered the bedroom
and said "Babe, bring it on!"

Olive, my lover of many a year
was less than impressed
when I deigned to appear.
A giggle, a chuckle and then a guffaw
My confidence sagged
like my double chinned jaw.
"Darling, it may be you smell like Ray Lewis
but when my eyes open
You're short fat and Jewish."

The ad was misleading
and I feel like a fool
Not a mensch, more a reject
from a shallow gene pool.
Bad enough that the store
on my refund is reneging.
foreplay now requires
two hours of begging.
Michael Ryan Oct 2015
Mr. Nobody--
A wrangly thing
some could call him a snob
or a high chinned minister
who was ordained
with a polished Apple-Phone
and his signature
swirlesque embroidered
wrist cuffs and tie clip.

He is the founder
to any computer based company
that processes tiny micro-chips at a price of
99 cents, and charging 100 dollars
for each "upgrade".

In his spare time
he's sponges around
lofty paintings,
filtering through new and old antiques,
but always coming back
to lackadaisly lounge
around his things.

Where a house is
up-kept by maids,
and in his closet
hangs the silhouettes
of personalities,
that he likes to try
around his family.

This is what I imagine
of Francisco, the boy buying coffee
at this Local Caffè
and as he leaves
that Apple-Watch lights up
reminding
about a job interview today.
I think this involves the idea of who we think someone is and who they really are.  Every perspective on someone can be infinite possibilities.  Maybe I told the life he is going to live or just a life he could live or is it even my own life?
Molly Pendleton Jul 2012
Who is he, Who is he
The broad shouldered
Stubbly chinned
Tired eyed
He is a young man

Who is she, Who is she
The sloping shouldered
Sparsely peach fuzzed
Bright eyed
She is a young woman

Why is he, Why is he
Squishing inside her small frame
Scraping his beard against her shaven face
Marring her youthful eyes with his tiredness
He is a young man

Why is she, Why is she
Crippling her stroll with his swaggering stomps
Darkening her skin with his brunette stubble
Masking his age with her dazzling irises
She is a young woman

Who is he
Who is she
Why is he
Why is she
Trapped
Morgan Ella Feb 2012
i will write you a happy poem
i will stitch it together in delighted diligence.
i wont clean behind the doorways with it
and i will keep it from the dirt and cobwebs.
and i wont bring up
what i shouldn't.
i will pick out the maggots
wriggling
with my teeth if
i need to.
and i will dress the ****** stumps in
gorgeous, coral lace. (which will only stain a little.)
heaving.
i will write you a happy poem, tucking in the rotten bits.
with high notes in
sandalwood and orange blossom.
it will have showers of sweet nothings exploding
in crystalline pink bits of
                                 cellophane
       that might stab in your eyes.
people will call it exotic and intoxicating.
              i'll dot my "i"s with *******
                                   little, red-ruby hearts
             so small you cannot see
                      the microscopic hairline cracks. (i promise)
                              i will painstakingly polish it
                              in earnest.
                              all spit shine and black lacquer.
                              sticky chinned grin
             and flushed cheeks from
love
or screams
or something like that.
                          ....and i know,
i'll wrap it up tight in ribbons. crimson.
                    fresh like a heart that has only just
stopped.
just sliced and steaming.
my perfect ingredients.
and i will tether it from me
to you.
Roman Pavel Jan 2016
Practice as always
Long and grueling from all the running
The team’s exhausted
But, ready to battle

By a loss of one point
The game ended in overtime
For some, the last one

The coveted trophy
Remains shelved till next year
Collecting dust

Tears in their eyes
Dirt and blood on their face
Everyone chinned up and went home

The Coach reminiscing of what was
And hopeful for what could be
Pulls back and kicks up
Sinking into the Lazy Boy

The wife as always
Comes late to the dinner table

She ran sprints all night
Sometimes I feel like an angler fish
and this body feels like ocean.

I’m somewhere
in here. I’m lost.
You see more of me than I know what to do with.

I’m still catching the waves
that the teen-aged version of myself
bellyflopped into tides
when he thought
I’m too big to be loved.

Except ‘loved’ meant everything.
I’m too big to be happy.
I’m too big to be handsome.
I’m too big to be seen.

I still watch thinner people do things
and know
that no matter how many lights I turn off
there’s still a reflective surface somewhere
that knows
that no matter how high I learn to jump
from this skin in a moment’s notice
it’s still an ocean I’m cannonballing back into.

That no matter how much I sweat
this ocean;
double-chinned and love-handled
does not know how to be a pond.
West of a mutilated day, wormwood salts are scattered for some wild-chinned Controllers on a high pinnacle with viva vox in the Mandrake, Vernarth's house of Orion:

Saint John the Apostle says the proverbial Psalm: “In the lofty Cage, Gregorian sylphs, with skillful gestures and mania for cheering, are graced for coming to the Way of the cheap and venerable souls that are made up of the bodies of the evil-born on their railing. , in quagmire of swallowing spittle where the cold winter is banished, to jump from the cold oriental, having to walk with the elbows, and with the daring screams of the Sylphs that shake themselves among the foggy and fleshy tangle with rags and fur cloths flying smoothly through the tops of the oak trees in smoke to purge for Vernarth! Gospel, gospel in the barn of the delicate humus was felt, and that it was refracted in the refined forest with philosophical sacred love. Lord, all of us who are because we are, are you Lord ..., all in my exercises of loving gaze, are channeled by the indexes of my thumb to the little finger at the bottom of the sea, and float again from the little finger to the bottom of the surface. Waving in the transience of the world and holding back, Father God thunder, this with laryngitis when he outlines himself with the vast earthly sight, he covers with his right hand, the phlegm of ***** that made him drive an empty tremor, in my lack of security he testified by singing thousands and millions of choirs at this auction. The first ring of the profile will be carried by Jesus light, rubbing his back with some eyelashes of a drunk beetle, while the beetle will collect water between its extensions that will wail real needs of every morning albi - rosaceous that will travel in a circle towards the auditory of the Last auctioned saying: "As I have not to be where I was and was ..., if at night my beloved morning row impulsively and goes against it so as not to stumble into the night ...". Each cut piece of the dermis will have to be auctioned, I had Faith and the screenplay, encapsulated and embedded in each hope of the ramshackle flock, the impiety-weary ogre needed to stow his empty viscera with the cloth of the celestial kingdom, which at auction was beginning to squeeze and vanish when regurgitating smoothies and disintegrated spaces of belonging of the devotees of Vernarth. The writing is signed with lupus, this Lucia emanated from the morning resentment of skin envy, and from the massif drenched in anarchy and city archeology, lying hesitantly ..., as if the forest gave it some indication of rebirth, under the shadow of twinkling doubt, from the high front where they were nuanced over the engendered banners of truth, elucidating the forbidden and true matrix.

Adelimpia, Vernarth's grandmother, was squatting cutting the drool from the dwarf tree that lost a forage, at around 6:30 p.m. on the 39.9th day of a supposed 14th month of another dimension, almost winding up in a tangled series of productive hesitations and rituals, taking her victorious chariot in Lent where the teacher without felt traction, weave sprinkles of forgiveness on her distributor, starting her shaft and not her running engine, she already knew herself as a commoner with the wake of a ship without knowing where to go. Those who did not see themselves more backward intrigued to be part of the central bar of the rocker of the nymphs in their stadium, with a yawning lip where no one was invited. Mega-watt snitches go to the sacristan, breaking speeds of intangible entities that abide by her law, as a sage vilified in her secular realm, even in nowhere, the atmospheric larynx hissed widening through the flakes of the auctioned field, Joshua leaping with her. Cranky black horse Equus, with his anthropomorphic hooves, accelerated with action that put him among the lost belongings of the plateau, whose east limited him to two half-quarters of each other, and two-thirds slowing the sunset from ruby to ruby, brightening in the shades of green and green. Vernarth  Bernardolipo's father swallowed crops, from whose movements were born out of place gestures of residence, parturient fairies appeared emerging at once, or perhaps not emerging, the afternoon crushes the unplayable sun, Hugh and Anne covered their supra orbital eye areas, more towards a hillside where thousands of repertoires were being knocked down, and copious tableware with caked sugar, which seemed to reduce the acoustics from the beginning in what seemed solidly to fade to postulate in new shades of the weary rubbed rainbow, like thousands of shades doing the times of zascandil  in a curled comb, re-sprouting certain storm deities in the natural bow of the wind entangled in each stratus, sprinkling on the hectares of Possessions, standard deeds, sales orders, mutual funds, bonds ... the coffers and the earthly decomposed. Before each onslaught, a highly dense fog arose, highly ignored, anti-critical, and more disparaging of amassing a high scarcity with a local, in his quintals of his last bread for the flock. Lashes that exceed the grammage, foliage from leaf to leaf, from today until tomorrow, in a traveling satyr of dry leaves, "The Sphincter of the World will need Purgative ...".

Marathon of poisonings,… Lord, you have looked me in the eye; with your boat I will follow you, to your privileged perspiring cinnamon dock with various vociferous songs. What fared more than seven zeros, now they will be eaten by rodents, Lord attend my prayers, the pink mast has been sailing at several knots from the north, and it is rapidly losing its polar location, between verbs never traveled or driven, I dared to show off that the path of the gospel in small distant fragments will abound in infinite space, only the one that predominates will glide over my forehead with an accumulation of everything seen and that today in this sale; where everyone you own and care for, like a baby in front of a dissimilar kinship of good adventure and progeny that will leave your hands. "  

Etréstles says: "Soft and mellifluous presumptions ..., where do I have to look if nothing is heard? What is proposed and permeates the law of possessing and not, perhaps the strap reaches an infinite house, where the sun breaks down ..., the spout of my minimal rebirth slowly turned it into my reoriented defined cell. My grandfather Joshua fertilizes the new sales every day with his hooves bandaged with hemp, the sebum stones since they were so are already spirited circles, the hand of the maker is being compared with his tactile sense, Kaitelka's lungs, full of phosphate residues and sulphated, for the first time they milk in medium drops on their udders, although saying and what they prefer to assert of a worthy Down! If it were not, for his regal model of cetacean ostentation, he would not be in the Horcondising taking from today, towards the end of the curtain in the regular blushes, to create the great detachment, so necessary for the pulsating plain and purge his master Vernarth . The night covers it with sulfur oceanic satin, with the spauto of its jet and a magical moving game. Everyone was distracted when she circled over the routines of well-magnetized charms. More than two subjects were deprived of their well-placed jaw, when the overtime ran not crossing in the entire field in which she lived. It was time to unmask the interveners, the boatswain of the alfalfa field had been eating almonds with oil from the sole of a Joshua bototo shoe, she folded her wings at halftime to take a modest breath, to resume weak paths, deprived of confidence and not. To know who they would obey and to whom they would yield the fruit of their old and stock market work in the garden. Chaos for them, light of Lights, for those affiliated with the ruler who is Joshua, who will live behind a makeshift Patagua tree, erecting  aquisus tents and the dogmas of tomorrow. The magnificent concessions in the Horcondising massif continued to fall precipitously; some rummaged through their accounting almanacs, distanced and squandered their exquisite profits. The stagecoach is moving away, and the barrels of water were scarce, the aroma and tastes of roasted beef comes out over the bushes, the stores sway in a naive wind of blooming daisies, the sales were coming against the owners themselves, the taste of the laughter degraded their own present absence, the paraphernalia of the little birds on the carpet of the mountain plateau were, they began to do mercy of the tip in the exposed beams, the hundred feet with calluses came down from the semi-incinerated poles. Nothing smelled of pride anymore, just the last shadow of Joshua's Chief Sheriff; Vinicius, who thinned out the spotlights of the semi-strongmen still trying to collect his heavy wealth, now that among clouds of heavy cargo they went to give him only one habit to try to fit his body, just to wear his outfit. They looked, looked and kept looking at his octogenarian tearful sapro- genito dream, where the first dream ends, and his exile begins. Vinicius, locks the door, and starts drinking mate tea; while screams of those bad jackals were heard fighting for their inherited evils, in manners of not conquering those who lose a dream of their patriarchal courting-love, under the shadow of the most powerful bush for the rest of their lives in groves. Crumbs come off the beards of Joshua, his galvanized knife cuts multiform slices, to feed everyone equally and continue the purge of Vernarth "

The most desolate deity came; he walked in full sun, shelled and unattached, full of elongated bridles and with haste in his eyes. But not in its strides, thousands of years passed, and it brushed with my lost zeal in the quarrels of the Argolica, in the salinized and rotten feces of Eurymedousa, with its snowy and tricolor feet, hooded with its goods! , therefore, unable to sustain its own air from its nasal socket, dropping it likes brave foam that fell in the fired distance. Bad cooked fruit, with the flavor of a sleeping cinnamon stick, mitigating in its kind balsam, frayed wind yielding 360 and so many more suns, before the last one that I carry on my limbs ends. The end of the End began, in the seven ends adorning my steps. The obscene deities came, with their rebuilding geo music, breaking endometriums of goddess’s mobs and their almost massacred Pillan Mapu, among thousands that were, thousands of nowhere they are ..., in a today already anesthetized. He lies in the stench of the corrugated floor, in the wooden handles and rods stacked on the floor gesturing; the god Pillan Mapuche, under a generic vault of sleep falls into lethargy on the faces, leaving his unintelligible hollow free; and its unbalanced environment, crossing the basaltic moraine that circulated one day from the placenta of the fatigued cemetery. Dreams in kilos everywhere of pressed ducks, with dense covering and grasses on the hooves of bucephalos, crucible, living trident and extraordinary flowers ***** in floating skirmish, with dosing globules, thirst that is born from the whiteness of the first day in confessional liberation, cell of white with a looted look, shields of osculation, like icy air that transpires his ninth life and that is born from his ninth death, splinted in the face of death that mutilates his fingers when crossing his genes of perfidious and monkish plot of a life bypass. I sing or I do not sing, I lack my throne from where I observe the glances with time and impudence, possessing everything behind the back of the macabre time in counter-steps of tender golden plague, in foreign skin growing on my right blanket, from so much passing lights with cracked night outings, walking towards me, between roads and between Monday nights with faces of long and sinuous unctuous branches, with great step and size. Now I have to draw the curtain, on light lying in the shadow of an opening scattered in warm beets. With sincerity ..., and mistake there is no will to germinate in them, I will be born without being with them, to be meaningless without them ..., and that it is above other absences, with great eloquent and numerical weight on absent.

They are still plastered, washed out and with the frizzy pigments of a parnassus Paradise, where it has been intervening over its bloodless headers. Joshua walks thousands of steps on with his Equus skull, like a meridian slipping off certain rods of decay. Thus they all floated in the cephalous porous airs, with great airs of Cain collapsing on Abel recomposed in reserves of a millennium that fell twisted and stunned, captivated by an ominous word. Sendal covered themselves in bandurrias that covered the melodious icebergs of exulting individuals and swollen with passion, with their rummaging and thunderous noises going along with their flowers to the sea dissipated. My paternal grandmother was delimited; she paraded from the openings with cough-covered mounds of the frozen volcano, growing reflective slits of dense gradation in the nervousness of the overhang and angry sighing heat, in all the vertiginous and venerable spirits numbed by the darkness of so many sorrows on their bluish heads. Eurymedousa, already ill-fated to continue in Rhodes, appeared on stilts and with agonizing lights and yielding to the crossbows of the centaurs gagged by the Beauties; they consisted of their seesaws before the agreement with the Master, who gave us her Hellenic manifestos, and no less to others. My uncle King Arthur carried news of the locked consonants of his string and with a riding crop for his steed, tangled in rows that tore his face into small abscesses on his face, which were superimposed on those capillaries of the sweat of Heaven. Blessed Lord, the knee had grafts of golden steel, the horns of the radio sol brego that were broken in its metaphysical pregnancy, and its food collector that had solid gold baths towards a tabernacle fussing through its mucous orifices of alfalfa with the a flavours of irradiated cattle . He paraded with his loving mount flying down his track and kept clueless, at times he ran so swiftly that he crossed evil omens with Joshua, he was seen as weak and white in insulting slanders, Tamayo; his friend, who was a Talamite native, followed him on horseback, his son rode the sheep every summer, passing wool of pure holy insignia of a healthy man.
Along the banks of the reeds, he came riding on a donkey, Edward my paternal uncle, the third of Adelimpia, came three steps before his donkey, and he counted three times before riding him with provisions for good waters, wrapped in an energetic fire of Saturday tobacco in his mouth in mourning, who lovingly watching over himself, looking at today towards a peak for his sheep, looking at them for a manger of borders and tiny hunching phrases of black song about legends of the offender, which tempted to show off invading their fields. He is to the right of his mother Adelimpia, and under the rib of his father Bernardolipo overflowing, giving sugar to the colt Dolly in the sunsets, bequeathing affection with syrup, and a thousand compliments in December of 9,900 AD, Joshua, I remained in shreds of pageantry and endless lives, I always said, my lady, here I bring you a peasant's soup in flower of primed twisted canvas, in this three-year period I must call them to dinner in past lands with sweet potatoes to eat and candlesticks of flying seeds, with eager candies of a crack and their thirsty mouths. Gentlemen, I am Edward, their son, I want to sleep in your arms, after escaping from my worst perfidious toothless bite that still hurts inside. After eating great cholesterols from all over the world, amidst the tools of my children I am, always putting a tobacco leaf caught in the scrawled pieces and in great coinciding strokes, in circles dancing to throw away the bad and broken places badly thought and done. When I get to the end I will cling to the Joshua habit and shout not to leave me alone in the middle of this world, without toasted flour, cheese and tobacco. I am not a malignant man, I am only like those of us who are far below, feeling footprints on my spine, and I do not tell my wife Molly, so that she does not lack chickpea flour for our children wrapped in regrets and ***** with hunger and light blue in goodness, like saints and media, but in the end with clear blue water in my glasses. I invite everyone to my table to dine on oceans and worlds of clear celestial light, because with this hand I break this piece; I am the Son of Adelimpia and the supplier. They brought me in anemone branches when the Lord's headache invaded him, when he felt nails in his hands, to the east of Eden, without steps or turgid edges and a rough runaway palfrey”

The Horcondising massif turned into a great mountain, Edward was in the limestone of some potters and followers of Joshua molding him, they began to bait the rope that merges the mountain range, with the valley at the foot of all the mapus, mud flowing from the monastic floods , here they polisonated in the stony atonement of each lamentable trunk. They say;… faramalla  demonion, would be with a Silfife facing the mass of the vital obstacle, with faded coffee fiber, smeared in wine and bread, with eternal vintage vine. Luccica, Vernarth's mother, tackles familiar corners, with anointed frames of fiction in irrational ergonomics…; in numerous steps that will reach your distinguished heart. An ocean of doubts has fallen due to the inheritance that has precarious injuries, of battered egos and scrubbed by undue ignorance. Mountain delusions and manias, which run through the fibrillated vigils of some soft ropes and their abundant bristles like the choppy of an echidna escaping as it tingles by my twisted temples ”. The Horcondising  tam tam modulates through its crater and its pale face of a perpetual cell. Towards the forgiveness of the primordial ones and the commiseration of the orb burying itself in creation, this sacred and over the pale Sudpichian region will rest, in the roots growling in capillaries of the carbonated earths and in its badly wounded footprints. Horcondising is in quarantine, the elevation of the constellations are hyperillusionible, they migrate Along with Albalalhue and Carnivorous, the succeeded nymph that extracts exudation from a flushed match in the palm of some ideas on rollers, higher up and on angular from other right angles. Toiling with her hands, and rubbing possessions with her mazote and her patronage full of rakes.

Etréstles says: “Beyond all metal of hatred of every god not heard, beyond all evil of timid hatred I have not heard. I hold the playful phrasing of Edenic song, which calls us in voices full of long journeys, especially on this day fading. Through the hollow, belts and picket rings breaking the timid lights of the last sunset.  Cardinals in envelopes of fragile strengths, mountains with borders and deposits in the last voluminous plagues on the mason's eye.  Binding themselves in a pile, with saffron nails in their ears, with moths that run through the unforgivable morphologies. Do not lose life, abandon all noisy fight in coalition with the uninhabited *** of coins, there are forty days left to say goodbye to the god Faramalla, who lies with closed tec, limps to his lost pupils, and the sky swirls over his day when nothing not fit for any drinkable air with light bulb. Horcodising loses millimeters within minutes and rising, towards harvests to harvests, they lose merged schedule of a time without a past, reviling themselves from a present of consanguineous evil with an abstinent future. Luccica; Vernarth's mother, she is a sylph dragged by the tempest moraines, being detached to a contemplation and intake of life. The membranes of the accordion burst, and between brittle passageways crying without union, succumb to the teachings of foolish fate, Luccica as a portion owes its origin to the sea, taking its physiognomic bark from a seal specimen of aqueous flattery, to frize it on a similar surface umlauts on the "u", with phosphorescent and indeclinable forges, making it a beautiful maternal nymph, like the beautiful female picking up a moon in her arms, clinging to a new hallucinatory satellite to engender. "Live and talk with your peer, her dazzling sneaks in and laughs at this prominent queen, to exhale on those who observe her."

End Ellipsis Chapter XXXI
Horcondising  Castle Reign - Sudpichian
Transversal Valley  the Ferments - Parapsychological Regression
Mandrake, the Wild Auction
M Elee Jan 2015
Pete and Pauline Porker
Speaking through their snorkles
Double-chinned, wet-lipped
Checking out Facebook fibs
Snarled, yellow,
Tinted-teeth
Buys fudgie-bars
And potpourri
Their greasy-mouths
Spew forth and give
Fountain sodas
of commercial spit.
Tanvi Bird Sep 2014
Do not think, for the mind is careless;
thoughtlessly inflicting drugged streams
of half consciousness. memories
on the carousel, wheeling rainy dreams.

Lose all touch with sanity,
there's no love for you,
Roaches fancy a flesh of vanity,
but scorpions ****** dry the blood.

She is perfect just the way she is,
but I will never be.
She has birthed a baby, his
green eyed, sweet chinned little girl.

You could say, Mind, do not be this way,
but you can not stop those thoughts-
Your own womb is barren and grey,
a weeded, thorny, fruitless void.
Teagan DeVoe Dec 2014
13
Baron Saturday
The Moon God sees these are fitting beasts.
There's a snek in my Jim nest and i'm fully chinned, laughing at
me the walk twist the key's own menstrual pattern.
Wander out of it's not time's own belonging to my neighborhood.
As I (in jest) myselve's own existing
contrary to bird law's bound booklet handed from headless
man on the subway, so it will become.
Aaron Bee Feb 2016
I'm not scared of dying.
Living seems to be the
only frightening aspect of reality.
Just being is making foot prints at
all the places you been.
Your eyes are fixated on happiness
while the man in front of you has a
tool palpitating for you.
Grasping the tiny member is
like holding a baby carrot
his face was no better to
look at: scruffy face, double-chinned,
and ragingly *****.
Hands behind my neck curates
whats next ...
bobbing for apples and coughing
grudgingly
tearing eyes and exercised reflexes
give to the masterful art
of *******.
smiles are priceless, if met with
the supply of eye contact.
your heart isn't for sale, but
your orifices are.
Hyper-sexuality is the name of
the game.
your *** should be as big as your
ego, mouth wide enough to swallow
beer cans, and eyes sweet enough to
defile.
wiping your mouth
you find a hair.
"this means extra!" holding it
to him.
"I told you over the phone"
Man throws you the money and drops
you off at the local flea bag
hotel.
Waiting ... waiting ... waiting ...
the call of a stranger, can
be stranger than ever each time
you answer.
next guy wants you to play with his
****, while you humiliate him by
spitting in his face
raingirlpoet Feb 2018
i think you hurt me
and i think,
at the time at least
i liked it.

i liked that someone listened to me
that should’ve been the first red flag
no one listens to me
i mean no one like you listens to me.

and i didn’t think it odd or inappropriate
i’m gay,
i told you
i didn’t think you were a threat
and that should’ve been the second.

i didn’t think it was weird
when you asked me for selfies
because people swap selfies, right?
i’ve sent some pretty hideous double chinned bedhead dead eyed selfies to my girlfriend
how is it any different if it’s to a guy friend?

except it was different
you asked to see my thigh gap
my feet
my lordotic back because you wanted to see how my muscular dystrophy affected me
physically.
that should’ve been the third.

you called me pet names.
you told me you loved me.
you said you would always be there for me when no one else was.
fourth. fifth. sixth.

at first i thought it endearing and a platonic kind of love.
but you don’t say those things to a girl you met on the internet
i don’t.

i struggle saying those three words.
they weigh me down and make me choke on air when i try to say them out loud
so when you insisted i say them back, that you wouldn’t stop bugging me until i did,
i panicked
typed them, hit “send”
and cried later
and you told me it’s no big deal, everyone says “i love you”
not me. never me.
seventh flag.

you told me you’d visit
you told me we were meant to be
like a ****** up romeo and juliet
you spent your nights talking me down off of suicidal ledges
you thought you saved me
you kept telling me to just ******* eat, that starving myself was stupid, that you couldn’t have me die on you, that you were supposed to die first
“death is not a race,” i said
“you’ll win anyway if i don’t save you,” you replied
eighth flag.
i didn’t like it anymore.

i think you hurt me.
i can’t be too sure since you’ve convinced me you were just being friendly but i’m starting to come out of this fog you’ve put me in
and i do believe
you’ve hurt me.

-rgp
Leslie Philibert Oct 2015
Chinese toothed, slack chinned,
concerned at the inrunning cold
you flood the snowed path with light

like a stage. Your singular silence
incomprehensible for the coated shape
one known, now a smile of wire.

The years, like snow,clean the slate.
as yet unpublished
Wk kortas Aug 2020
The basement sported the requisite folding metal chairs,
Each of indeterminate age and reliability,
One wall featuring a poster of a standard-issue Jesus,
Implacably serene, ministering to a flock
Of equally generic and cherubic children.
An ancient coffee table, suitably gouged and graffitied,
Sat off to one side,
Encumbered with ashtrays,
Styrofoam cups of varying degrees of emptiness,
And the remains of a bundt cake
(Store-bought, the evening’s dessert designee
Not up to the challenge of having her baking skills
Being yet one more thing held up to the light for judgment.)
The tales were standard issue bottle-done-me-wrong-song fare:
Jobs lost, marriages torn asunder, children estranged,
Plaintive tunes sung by the usual suspects
(The weak-chinned with haunted faces, the closeted gays,
The intense silent types still in the full bloom of denial.)
There was, this particular evening, an extra folding chair
Sitting unused off to the right,
Normally occupied by a compact, muscular sort
Who, when not furiously scribbling notations
In an ancient stenographer’s notebook,
(This habit earned several looks-that-would ****
From some of the long-term habitués of these meetings,
Who felt he was making some speakers a bit reticent,
Considerably reducing the sessions’ entertainment value)
Observed the proceedings intensely with ****** expressions
Alternating between schoolboy grins and bailiff-stern frowns.

Some weeks prior to leaving the group, his demeanor changed;
The notebook left at home, the sine waves of emotional extremes
Exchanged for an easygoing, almost beatific smile,
He’d sit with hands behind head, leaning backward in his chair
(The rubber tips of the chair legs making a soft tap, tap, tap
As they lifted and settled back onto the floor),
Letting the weekly affairs roll on
As if they didn’t concern him in the least.
His sponsor had been, understandably, somewhat taken aback
By this sudden sea-change in attitude,
And was further nonplussed by the response
To the polite inquiry as to this change in heart.
I’ve discovered to the secret, the sponsor was informed,
All of it, every last **** thing that’s said every **** week
All due to sadness--and I know that all I need to do
Is not to cause it for anyone else, and not feel it myself.
I’ll never need to drink again
, he said with a smile
That would not have been out of place among the angels,
And he turned and walked away,
Never to attend a meeting again.

He may have been right
(For whom among us could say for sure he was wrong?)
But, as it turned out,
Sadness was not the type of adversary
Which was of a mind to come out and fight like a man;
It lurked in dark corners, and was apt to come at you
From all directions and at all hours,
Nor was it averse to enlisting loved ones and total strangers
In the furthering of its cause.  
He’d parried and ****** at these shadowy antagonists
(Though his exertions and exhortations were,
Often as not, directed at nothing more than thin air)
With increasing frustration
And diminishing certainty as to his beliefs,
And at some point he supposed that his effective weaponry
Was reduced to a sturdy chair, strong rope, and solid roof beam
(The landlady found him just a bit too late,
His toes rhythmically drumming against the apartment door.)

The long evening of sighs and serenity came to a close,
Goodbyes and small talk wrapping up in short order,
And the participants walked up the stairs from the basement
(One or two members nodding, perhaps in reverence,
Possibly in whimsy to the picture of the Son on their way out)
And a few of them made mention
As to how much darker the evenings seemed
Now that fall was slipping away toward winter,
And how nice it would be if the parking lot was better lit.
For preservation, salvation,
and veneration, though with hold
ding temptation two mike
pence sieve lee clear,
to immoral majority mold
toot hoods, (those bajillion
Americans unanimously polled)
did want me to broadcast, communicate,

and declare, sans mock cut up fold
drawl migrant accent,
(no matter I'm getting old),
nonetheless Ivana trumpet from Taj Mahal
straight to Mar-A-Lago) all told,
plus thank commensurate Republicans
(past or present), who extolled,
an invisible grandiose fire walled

barricade (donning, enclosing,
and fortifying) against Carl mauled
din lookalike hackers,
despite one sporting "FAKE"
hook nosed, hunchbacked
donned with torn (Turin) shawled,
shrouded, and disguised vagrant, indigent,
double chinned agent – bald

(except for being bewigged),
viz flowing locks of "FAKE" gold
in toe with Amazon heavily funded
unbridled trailing retinue
chanting appellation Matthew
Scott Harris alias Oswald),
no matter said faux
renegade twittering lobbyists

flock (like lemmings) within his fold,
and will happily, laughably parody
any vigilantes spot on cold,
what with his bugs
bunny eyed (What's up Doc)
intent reader rabbit stare,
that doth playfully scold
any Bare Ladies *******

linkedin, NOT nsync
with netiquette politesse mold
dinned communication, (asper
my pork chopped message
higglety pigglety divulged)
obeying tacit gold
din rule to hoodwink public, nonetheless
lemme exemplify, how

Democrats plan to hold
world web hostage
by secret Ransomware sold,
thru dark web bitcoin blockchain trolled
to collude with "crooked Hillary"
under Ponzi scheme auspices doled

courtesy, sans spongebobsquarepants
omnipotent NON GMO
gluten CRISPR rolled
oat sized INTEL nanobots,
no bigger than mold
spores heavily scrutinizing,
policing, monitoring and
fortifying electronic Internet scaffold.
and withheld broadcasting
the following communication
tucked away these many years,
when president number forty five
donned, jump/kick started, and tweeted
thru his musky, albeit flabby mantle,
a rallying cry forewarning onset of Mag(m)a
bubbling, gurgling, lobbing, and spewing lava
against backdrop of his trumpeting vitriolic
political preservation, salvation,
and veneration, though with hold

ding temptation tomb mike -
(make) pence sieve lee clear,
the immoral majority mold
toot hoods, (those bajillion
Americans unanimously polled)
did want me to broadcast, communicate,
and declare, sans incendiary fold
drawl (folderol) feigning migrant accent,
(no matter I'm getting older than Methuselah),
nonetheless Ivana trumpet from Taj Mahal

straight to Mar-A-Lago) all told,
plus thank Republicans
(past or present), who extolled,
an invisible grandiose fire walled
barricade (donning, enclosing,
and fortifying) against Carl mauled
din lookalike hackers,
despite one sporting "FAKE"
hook nosed, hunchbacked
adorned, donned with (Turin) shawled,

shrouded, and disguised vagrant, indigent,
double chinned agent - bald
(except for being bewigged),
viz flowing locks of "FAKE" gold
in toe with Amazon heavily funded
unbridled trailing retinue
chanting appellation Matthew
Scott Harris alias Oswald),
no matter said faux
renegade twittering lobbyists

to flock (like lemmings) within his fold,
and will laughably petrify
any vigilantes dead cold,
what with his bugs
bunny eyed (What's up Doc)
intent reader rabbit stare,
that doth playfully scold
any Bare Ladies *******
linkedin, NOT nsync
with netiquette politesse mold

gobbledygook communication, (asper
my pork chopped message
higglety pigglety divulged)
obeying tacit gold
din rule to hoodwink public, nonetheless
lemme exemplify, how I plan to hold
world web electronically hostage
by secret Ransomware sold,
thru dark wide whirled web
cryptocurrency bitcoin blockchain trolled
under auspices, sans

omnipotent NON GMO
gluten free CRISPR rolled
oat sized INTEL nanobots,
no bigger than mold
spores heavily monitoring
meant to fortify electronic threads
woven into a virtual tapestry
likened to Dickensian chain e-mail
intent to foment pandemonium
at expense to captcha totalitarianism,
whereby democracy imperiled.
aldo kraas Aug 2023
You got to me
Winter
I find you to be
Very depressing
And also extremely cold
There days that you are -30
Other days you are- 20
Yes when I go out
I also dress warm
But I still
Feel the cold
Climbing up
All the way to my spine
And at the same time
I fee the cold that also
Makes me shiver
At the Winter
You only give me
Gray sky
And no Sun
So i am not receiving
Any vitamin d
Also the gray sky puts
Me to sleep
But if I sleep during the day
I won’t sleep at night
So I must stay wake
Yes tomorrow we
Will have a blizzard
I want be able to walk
On the sidewalk
I will have to walk on
The road
And that is very dangerous
Because I will get killed
So I better stay home
And catch up on my sleep
Today I will wake up
At 3:00 pm
Then I will
Shave
That will be the first
Thing I will do
With a throw away razor
And some shaving cream
Now was time for me
To go in the shower
And have my shower
I use body wash
When I am having my shower
Then I rinse my body of
Water
Now the shower was over
I had dried my body
With a bath towel
Then I put on a clean
Pajamas on
When the clock in the
Living room chinned
4:00 pm
Now I am going
To my living room
I turn the computer on
And I start to do
Some work for
My father
aldo kraas Aug 2023
Father
I am so happy
Today we had a day
Without rain
Because we had
Already lots of days
That was raining in
May already
Father
I must tell you
That I also hate
When it is raining
Outside
I have to take my
Umbrella when
I am walking outside
When it is raining
So I stay dry
Also father
I don’t want to get wet
Because when I come
Back home
I have to change my clothes
I will have to put my wet
Clothes to wash
Inside the washing machine
Also, I will add the fabric
Softener and the
Laundry soap
When the washing machine
Finishes washing my wet clothes
I will put them in the dryer
So that it can get dry
Once the dryer stop
I will remove my
Dry clothes
And I will put then
Inside my closet
Every night before I go to sleep
I put my clothes out
That I am going to
Wear the next day
Then it was getting late
And the clock
In my living room
Had chinned 12:00 am
It was already time for me
To go to bed
Also, I shut my mind off
Then I had closed my eyes
And drifted into a deep sleep
aldo kraas Sep 2023
You got to me
Winter
I find you to be
Very depressing
And also extremely cold
There are days that you are -30
Other days you are- 20
Yes when I go out
I also dress warm
But I still
Feel the cold
Climbing up
All the way to my spine
And at the same time
I feel the cold that also
Makes me shiver
At the Winter
You only give me
Gray sky
And no Sun
So I am not receiving
Any vitamin d
Also the gray sky puts
Me to sleep
But if I sleep during the day
I won’t sleep at night
So I must stay wake
Yes tomorrow we
Will have a blizzard
I won't be able to walk
On the sidewalk
I will have to walk on
The road
And that is very dangerous
Because I will get killed
So I better stay home
And catch up on my sleep
Today I will wake up
At 3:00 pm
Then I will
Shave
That will be the first
Thing I will do
With a throw away razor
And some shaving cream
Now was time for me
To go in the shower
And have my shower
I use body wash
When I am having my shower
Then I rinse my body of with
Water
Now the shower was over
I had dried my body
With a bath towel
Then I put on a clean
Pajamas on
When the clock in the
Living room chinned
4:00 pm
Now I am going
To my living room
I turn the computer on
And I start to do
Some work for
My father
aldo kraas Aug 2023
You got to me
Winter
I find you to be
Very depressing
And also extremely cold
There are days that you are -30
Other days you are- 20
Yes when I go out
I also dress warm
But I still
Feel the cold
Climbing up
All the way to my spine
And at the same time
I feel the cold that also
Makes me shiver
At the Winter
You only give me
Gray sky
And no Sun
So I am not receiving
Any vitamin d
Also the gray sky puts
Me to sleep
But if I sleep during the day
I won’t sleep at night
So I must stay wake
Yes tomorrow we
Will have a blizzard
I want be able to walk
On the sidewalk
I will have to walk on
The road
And that is very dangerous
Because I will get killed
So I better stay home
And catch up on my sleep
Today I will wake up
At 3:00 pm
Then I will
Shave
That will be the first
Thing I will do
With a throw away razor
And some shaving cream
Now was time for me
To go in the shower
And have my shower
I use body wash
When I am having my shower
Then I rinse my body of with
Water
Now the shower was over
I had dried my body
With a bath towel
Then I put on a clean
Pajamas on
When the clock in the
Living room chinned
4:00 pm
Now I am going
To my living room
I turn the computer on
And I start to do
Some work for
My father
aldo kraas Sep 2023
Father
I am so happy
Today we had a day
Without rain
Because we had
Already lots of days
That was raining in
May already
Father
I must tell you
That I also hate
When it is raining
Outside
I have to take my
Umbrella when
I am walking outside
When it is raining
So I stay dry
Also father
I don’t want to get wet
Because when I come
Back home
I have to change my clothes
I will have to put my wet
Clothes to wash
Laundry soap
When the washing machine
Finishes washing my wet clothes
I will put them in the dryer
So that it can get dry
Once the dryer stop
I will remove my
Dry clothes
And I will put then
Inside my closet
Every night before I go to sleep
I put my clothes out
That I am going to
Wear the next day
Then it was getting late
And the clock
In my living room
Had chinned 12:00 am
It was already time for me
To go to sleep
aldo kraas Sep 2023
Father
I am so happy
Today we had a day
Without rain
Because we had
Already lots of days
That was raining in
May already
Father
I must tell you
That I also hate
When it is raining
Outside
I have to take my
Umbrella when
I am walking outside
When it is raining
So I stay dry
Also father
I don’t want to get wet
Because when I come
Back home
I have to change my clothes
I will have to put my wet
Clothes to wash
Laundry soap
When the washing machine
Finishes washing my wet clothes
I will put them in the dryer
So that it can get dry
Once the dryer stop
I will remove my
Dry clothes
And I will put then
Inside my closet
Every night before I go to sleep
I put my clothes out
That I am going to
Wear the next day
Then it was getting late
And the clock
In my living room
Had chinned 12:00 am
It was already time for me
To go to bed
Also, I shut my mind off
Then I had closed my eyes
And drifted into a deep sleep
aldo kraas Oct 2023
You got to me
Winter
I find you to be
Very depressing
And also extremely cold
There days that you are -30
Other days you are- 20
Yes when I go out
I also dress warm
But I still
Feel the cold
Climbing up
All the way to my spine
And at the same time
I fee the cold that also
Makes me shiver
At the Winter
You only give me
Gray sky
And no Sun
So i am not receiving
Any vitamin d
Also the gray sky puts
Me to sleep
But if I sleep during the day
I won’t sleep at night
So I must stay wake
Yes tomorrow we
Will have a blizzard
I want be able to walk
On the sidewalk
I will have to walk on
The road
And that is very dangerous
Because I will get killed
So I better stay home
And catch up on my sleep
Today I will wake up
At 3:00 pm
Then I will
Shave
That will be the first
Thing I will do
With a throw away razor
And some shaving cream
Now was time for me
To go in the shower
And have my shower
I use body wash
When I am having my shower
Then I rinse my body of
Water
Now the shower was over
I had dried my body
With a bath towel
Then I put on a clean
Pajamas on
When the clock in the
Living room chinned
4:00 pm
Now I am going
To my living room
I turn the computer on
And I start to do
Some work for
My father
aldo kraas Sep 2023
You got to me
Winter
I find you to be
Very depressing
And also extremely cold
There are days that you are -30
Other days you are- 20
Yes when I go out
I also dress warm
But I still
Feel the cold
Climbing up
All the way to my spine
And at the same time
I feel the cold that also
Makes me shiver
At the Winter
You only give me
Gray sky
And no Sun
So I am not receiving
Any vitamin d
Also the gray sky puts
Me to sleep
But if I sleep during the day
I won’t sleep at night
So I must stay wake
Yes tomorrow we
Will have a blizzard
I want be able to walk
On the sidewalk
I will have to walk on
The road
And that is very dangerous
Because I will get killed
So I better stay home
And catch up on my sleep
Today I will wake up
At 3:00 pm
Then I will
Shave
That will be the first
Thing I will do
With a throw away razor
And some shaving cream
Now was time for me
To go in the shower
And have my shower
I use body wash
When I am having my shower
Then I rinse my body of with
Water
Now the shower was over
I had dried my body
With a bath towel
Then I put on a clean
Pajamas on
When the clock in the
Living room chinned
4:00 pm
Now I am going
To my living room
I turn the computer on
And I start to do
Some work for
My father
aldo kraas Aug 2023
You got  to me
Winter
I find you to be
Very depressing
And also extremely cold
There days that you are -30
Other days you are- 20
Yes when I go out
I also dress  warm
But I still
Feel the cold
Climbing up
All the way to my spine
And at the same time
I fee the cold that also
Makes me shiver
At the Winter
You only give me
Gray sky
And no Sun
So I am not  receiving
Any vitamin d
Also the gray sky puts
Me to sleep
But if I sleep during the day
I won’t sleep at night
So I must stay wake
Yes tomorrow we
Will have a blizzard
I want be able to walk
On the sidewalk
I will have to walk on
The road
And that is very dangerous
Because I will get killed
So I better stay home
And catch up on my sleep
Today I will wake up
At 3:00 pm
Then I will
Shave
That will be the first
Thing I will do
With a throw away razor
And some shaving cream
Now was time for me
To go in the shower
And have my shower
I use body wash
When I am having my shower
Then I rinse my body of
Water
Now the shower was over
I had dried my body
With a bath towel
Then I put on a clean
Pajamas on
When the clock in the
Living room chinned
4:00 pm
Now I am going
To my living room
I turn the computer on
And I start to do
Some work for
My father

— The End —