"galavant" poems
Jovial mess on bed encapsulates heartburn diarama
a fresh coat Bismuth Business man with codeine red sweet stains on his dockers
3am Dharmic ranting
"job well done Wednesdays"
and "feel good Fridays"
Moronic howling immediacy
immediately vibrating cell walls within the twenty-something aged voice box device.
Burly chest galavant
push up to get the muscle fat
lean, and impress upon
the natural on-and-on
leave the face unscathed along
Have to be outside
Outside where it's most safe
ascend the incline just before the nightshade
lose your technology in the primordial Koi Fish Pond in oxymoronic fashion and let the nature of this dream leer at you from the area down below.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 1:32 PM UTC
Orangey so tangy loosely
her words flowery so
rustic fun* erotic*
the panic straight
jacket going ginger
snaps her ticket
*Pocketful of sunshine
in your pocket*
****** the maestro
In the stars of the cosmos
On the edge but earthly
Let's go slow
Did we miss the
whole entire glow
"So Tickle me Pink"
The stardust funds
of the trust
Having a light fuse
The picturesque
Fields so mystique personality
Lights up unique
Your word against mine
In a matter of fact were in
It's your cue waves pull me in
If so the sky does it remain
always blue such a variety
Of cookies no outrageous
Time for Oreos
What's inside its outside
Cleopatra's eyes snap away
Like a masquerade
Don't rain on my parade
Love of Virginia innocently
Love is the drug
insanely
Scrapes on her knees
The western front
Ginger Snaps
Those bottle caps and buzzing
honey bees Tangerine trees
Galavant like General Lee
Ginger the gunslinger
She's the singer
eating Saralees
Whats to boot
But getting closer
To the naked eye
to the surface be wise
"Owl Hoot"
So lovely genuinely
He's husky and ruly
Apps Gingersnaps
Exchanging cat naps
Her lips in higher
states of trips
Trying to get there
Bohemian Rapsody
The Queen of the
economy
Photo editing Unicorn pony
Another brainless wedding
We are the champions
What a snitch like a witch
Bad luck switch the lion's den
Topiary timeless good luck Zen
Loud sirens
Drug trafficker morons
The plastic Surgeons
Backstabber persons
Blue jeans snap taking a
Sniff Shiba Uni howls
To be loved in beauty
My Mom Judy good
earth bounty
Tall and sleek every week
Smells of Ginger
no danger
The earth on her cheeks
Can love be any truer
Into the Gala the apple
of her eye never goodbye
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 8:17 AM UTC
It's just a black empty space and I have created a corner in this circle because I need security in the form of things, and not, people.
And I unzipped my skin because someone smiled at me in the wrong way this morning or because I laughed into the mirror forgetting it was there.
I am dreaming of the heavens because God every night is singing me songs of sweet surrender, coaxing me "child, it's okay." And I unzip my skin because the tears and the sadness and the Everest of grief swirls in my arteries and dances in my veins and I feel *****
I unzip my skin so when you hold my hand or feel my pulse beat against yours, I am empty because I want you to remain, pure.
And soon I will unzip my soul to galavant in the heavens so my bones can dance in the richest soils, rattling the song of goodbye.
It was nice knowing you.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 9:46 AM UTC
Feels like I'm breathing candyfloss and using my hands to stretch over the lonely sun
*** to a ****** boy like the ecstasy in the manner in which my eyes appreciate the presence of the August summer peering through the blinds when I wake up next to you.
Guilty avatars galavant in my veins as your fingers travel travel
travel
lose themselves in and along my skin
I know your fingers have felt the skin that covers my body better than the white sheets at the morgue
but now I need
I need I want I need
need
you to be a engineer and use your fingers to reach inside my skin and fix everything that is broken
for I am nothing but a second hand car
Beaten, forgotten, misused.
Misused, forgotten, beaten.
Baby I'm sad, and I'm begging you to be the one that see's through me
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 5:32 AM UTC
i am afraid to see you,
because i am afraid you will covet parts of me
that i have cultivated on my own.
the color yellow,
regina spektor and ukeleles, blazers and old dogs.
pieces of you embedded in me.
yours.
but mine are sunny days, and glittery pop music
the way i drive my green car too fast
and my red lipstick
my habit of singing reckless harmonies
to the songs on the radio
going away to college and dyeing all my hair pink.
mine.
i don't want to see you.
because harmonizing with you means losing something that i found on my own, and leaving my red lipstick on your face--and we both know it will come to that-- will only leave my lips pale and wan and you telling me to slow down means that i will never drive alone again and whether you tell me that i should or should not dye my hair and run away i will do the opposite just to spite you and not for the happiness that is finally mine.
and ********* you do not get to galavant back into my life with your
"Happy birthday! <3"
and your
"I'll be in town this weekend, can I see you?"
and run my life again with your manipulative ********
that i learned to absorb into my bloodstream,
or spit back into your face
because i had to get rid of you
i don't want you to know what my new favorite book is.
or about that one movie that i've watched of my own accord more than once
or the song that makes me cry about the future because these things are mine. I do not belong to you anymore and I will never belong to you again so long as my heart is my own and if i have to give up seeing you forever to make that so, then so be it.
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
Every one of my belongings with me
Is damp from the mist of night.
The smell of the fire is in my hair,
Hair has a habit of holding scents
And thoughts
And hands.
My head is like the sun right now,
With planets orbiting.
Each planet it’s own worry,
The surrounding asteroid belt
Is just raindrop fears on a tin roof.
The trees were supposed to hide me.
The leaves were supposed to cradle me.
High school was never supposed to end,
We were all supposed to stay the best of friends.
If anything has become evident on this little trip,
This galavant across the countryside
It is that we aren’t one life anymore,
We are four.
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 1:22 PM UTC
The eyes of day drinking the night
The moon as a sun
Waning joy in the warmest July
The cries of no one
The hand of day draining the night
The moon acting red
Waning clouds, crows that can’t fly
The man in the bed
How long must we stare at the clocks to lengthen our time?
How livid must we try to be to soften our crimes?
The veins of day defended the night
The maddening streets
Galavant boys gather to buy
The pains from bed sheets
The bones of day deepened the night
The mad and their speech
Given to garner an eye’s early buy
The throne of the leech
How well must we mark our path to forget the day?
How lonely must we try to be to believe what we say?
The ears of day demanded the night
The stagnant drifter
Venting smoke and violent sighs
The doubtful thinker
The heart of day deluded the night
The stagnant as one
Must it take such a colour to save the sky
From the forever sun?
How well must you fight to survive alone?
How many tries do you have for the perfect headstone?
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 10:38 AM UTC
*We've great faith in Mother June , hope for sunny morning -
miracles with myriad songbird tunes
I've shady Weeping Willows to rest beneath and contemplate my viability , still able to galavant the grassy hillsides , mocking many- a -latent physical disability
Privy to dirt roads crossing cool streams , wild Blackberry rows beneath pungent evergreens
Hayfields that reach the painted horizon , a blue water impoundment
with infinite wonder and surprise* ..
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 4:37 PM UTC