Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Words
"gargle" poems
On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends, I stepped out of a puffing train, my long unkempt hair a lion's mane, getting used to my twitching tail, Posing on the Gateway of India, the extraordinary explorer pose, took a boat to Elephanta (sans the hose), and when my shivering co-passengers had finished feverishly taking pictures and started screaming holy mothers and sisters, I took off from the starboard end, and became the first man-lion to cross the polluted Indian channel, surviving to make the news channels, my scientific name listed as a brand new mammal, my mating call recognized as a gushing gargle, On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends, I devoured deep-kissing lovers for lunch at Bandstand's low-tide on a hunch, to the delicious sound of munch! munch! even as Shah Rukh Khan watched disgusted from his big big bungalow by the sea, and as the city sharpshooters came after me,     and later when they brought me down, from Nariman Point building, like KING KONG, I tuned a dusty guitar and sang a melancholy song, on the death of adventure, love and reality, dangers of delusions, lethargy and self-pity, repression, horniness and too much TV, down in a shower of bullets when I went, sky like the coming of rain, godspeed, godsend, in a mythical city, where nothing is really meant, On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends...
0
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 11:01 AM UTC
snehith-kumbla
On A Mythical Mumbai Weekend
On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends, I stepped out of a puffing train, my long unkempt hair a lion's mane, getting used to my twitching tail, Posing on the Gateway of India, the extraordinary explorer pose, took a boat to Elephanta (sans the hose), and when my shivering co-passengers had finished feverishly taking pictures and started screaming holy mothers and sisters, I took off from the starboard end, and became the first man-lion to cross the polluted Indian channel, surviving to make the news channels, my scientific name listed as a brand new mammal, my mating call recognized as a gushing gargle, On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends, I devoured deep-kissing lovers for lunch at Bandstand's low-tide on a hunch, to the delicious sound of munch! munch! even as Shah Rukh Khan watched disgusted from his big big bungalow by the sea, and as the city sharpshooters came after me,     and later when they brought me down, from Nariman Point building, like KING KONG, I tuned a dusty guitar and sang a melancholy song, on the death of adventure, love and reality, dangers of delusions, lethargy and self-pity, repression, horniness and too much TV, down in a shower of bullets when I went, sky like the coming of rain, godspeed, godsend, in a mythical city, where nothing is really meant, On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends...
Continue reading...
39
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!!!!*
0
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 9:25 PM UTC
david-john-mowers
Nucking Futz
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!!!!*
Continue reading...
40
Hanging out new to the scene So often wonder what that means As I sit in front of the world's screen Started in on ...Googling I typed in a single word Pressed enter for the Google search Took me down the path absurd Where all the lines were blurred   From there I ventured off the path Wish I'd known there's no turning back Marveled at the knowledge that I lack Like how to whittle your own baseball bat Just in case you're wondering Midgets don't melt in the rain Who doesn't think that that's insane As I dive deeper into Googling The art of bathing a Hindu rat Skinning a two-headed Siamese cat The taking of the perfect nap Standing up while keeping your lap intact How to delicately pierce a Rhino's ear Dressing up then down a deer 50 different ways a man can cheer While toasting his favorite Micro beer Abstract art using cotton ***** How to paint between the lines on paisley walls Teaching Yankees how the South says ya'll Lost episodes of the show called Lost Food served upon the world's menus Even specialties from Timbuktu Why the sea is green and the sky is blue As my googling madness continues More artwork this time with the jam of toes How to pick your friends but never your friend's nose Cleaning of the house without a stitch of clothes The whole time being careful with the vacuum hose 80's Hairbands I used to like That now know what bald feels like Making a homemade Hindenburg kite One that lands this time How to handle midlife like a man Taking a survey of what you could have been Raising Spider Monkey's  in the comfort of your den As I keep on Googling I now find myself Googling out in front As I'm Googling from behind Googling up as I'm Googling down To the left and to the right I've learned how to gargle Google That's a well known Google fact And if you don't believe me You can even Google that
0
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 2:33 PM UTC
mike-hauser
~Googling~
Hanging out new to the scene So often wonder what that means As I sit in front of the world's screen Started in on ...Googling I typed in a single word Pressed enter for the Google search Took me down the path absurd Where all the lines were blurred   From there I ventured off the path Wish I'd known there's no turning back Marveled at the knowledge that I lack Like how to whittle your own baseball bat Just in case you're wondering Midgets don't melt in the rain Who doesn't think that that's insane As I dive deeper into Googling The art of bathing a Hindu rat Skinning a two-headed Siamese cat The taking of the perfect nap Standing up while keeping your lap intact How to delicately pierce a Rhino's ear Dressing up then down a deer 50 different ways a man can cheer While toasting his favorite Micro beer Abstract art using cotton ***** How to paint between the lines on paisley walls Teaching Yankees how the South says ya'll Lost episodes of the show called Lost Food served upon the world's menus Even specialties from Timbuktu Why the sea is green and the sky is blue As my googling madness continues More artwork this time with the jam of toes How to pick your friends but never your friend's nose Cleaning of the house without a stitch of clothes The whole time being careful with the vacuum hose 80's Hairbands I used to like That now know what bald feels like Making a homemade Hindenburg kite One that lands this time How to handle midlife like a man Taking a survey of what you could have been Raising Spider Monkey's  in the comfort of your den As I keep on Googling I now find myself Googling out in front As I'm Googling from behind Googling up as I'm Googling down To the left and to the right I've learned how to gargle Google That's a well known Google fact And if you don't believe me You can even Google that
Continue reading...
52
Eggs, eggs, toss them high in the air Catch em, and gargle, and mash them, and swear Eat them with shells, eat them with sauce Eat them with bags, eat them with moss Eggs, eggs, between sandwich bread That's what the wise elderly miller had said Before came the bomb and he had dropped dead Before being poisoned by a surplus of lead And then came a centipede, long and sanguine And bit a small child, so recently weaned Off the protein derived from his mother's fine eggs So he had to start munching on his mother's fine legs "Be warned" said the Miller, his hair all askew While dousing his wounds with mountains of glue A tapeworm emerged, and looked toward the sky Feeling envy toward all the birds that could fly But the Miller was quicker, even in old age He smacked the worm soundly, in a manner enraged Bruised from the damage, and covered in glue The worm turned away from the sky that was blue Never with pelicans would he fly with delight Never with owls would he soar through the night For all Darwin's cruelty, an injustice rings Tapeworms simply have no need for wings So he bit the old Miller, and laid ten thousand eggs They hatched and devoured his liver and legs And as the man writhed, waiting to die He vomited upward, up toward the sky The tapeworm went flying, up toward the clouds The air felt exhilarating, the rushing wind loud For once in his life, he soared with the birds Then in came a swallow, and bit off a third His body, segmented, fell in parts to the ground Tears seeped from his eyes, his face in a frown From the ground he gazed up into the ominous fog Before being lapped up by an unlucky dog The End
0
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 1:20 AM UTC
inverse-zebra
A Pleasant Surprise
Eggs, eggs, toss them high in the air Catch em, and gargle, and mash them, and swear Eat them with shells, eat them with sauce Eat them with bags, eat them with moss Eggs, eggs, between sandwich bread That's what the wise elderly miller had said Before came the bomb and he had dropped dead Before being poisoned by a surplus of lead And then came a centipede, long and sanguine And bit a small child, so recently weaned Off the protein derived from his mother's fine eggs So he had to start munching on his mother's fine legs "Be warned" said the Miller, his hair all askew While dousing his wounds with mountains of glue A tapeworm emerged, and looked toward the sky Feeling envy toward all the birds that could fly But the Miller was quicker, even in old age He smacked the worm soundly, in a manner enraged Bruised from the damage, and covered in glue The worm turned away from the sky that was blue Never with pelicans would he fly with delight Never with owls would he soar through the night For all Darwin's cruelty, an injustice rings Tapeworms simply have no need for wings So he bit the old Miller, and laid ten thousand eggs They hatched and devoured his liver and legs And as the man writhed, waiting to die He vomited upward, up toward the sky The tapeworm went flying, up toward the clouds The air felt exhilarating, the rushing wind loud For once in his life, he soared with the birds Then in came a swallow, and bit off a third His body, segmented, fell in parts to the ground Tears seeped from his eyes, his face in a frown From the ground he gazed up into the ominous fog Before being lapped up by an unlucky dog The End
Continue reading...
37
Sweeping past the lineroom yards With a long hand held broomstick Malayandi was a daily sight, A hard and indelible insight His quiet mouth a taco Betel leaf and tobacco The sweet red rose scent Animate his hands to accent Rhythms in the dirt puddle strokes of savage broom Frolic along sewage groom Gargle alongside marbles Rake up ripple giggles Babbling bubbles fling Driving mild stink flakes To spread morning Knit into a dead neat serenity. On festival seasons vacations Instead of grooming the vassal comes blooming with big vessels Collects cooked food in measures From each and every homestead People pour in quiet leisure Rice in a *** of metal Curry in another kettle Filled with reverence and pleasure His heart is brimming sure All different kitchen meals In a single container appeals All children of the same ranch With many a range of community A bonehomie of unity The children heard from their friend his daughter They'd preserved All those food in cold water And all the while They'd eat from it too This collected meal for a week or two This made the children to look up at them With same respect due to a national anthem Are they more advanced? With knowledge enhanced In matters of life and cleanliness? Malayandi was unaware That his humble duty covered Sweeping as well grooming The children's hearts With arts of rare sensibility.
0
Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 2:52 PM UTC
philipp-k-j
Malayandi -the Saga of a Sweeper
Sweeping past the lineroom yards With a long hand held broomstick Malayandi was a daily sight, A hard and indelible insight His quiet mouth a taco Betel leaf and tobacco The sweet red rose scent Animate his hands to accent Rhythms in the dirt puddle strokes of savage broom Frolic along sewage groom Gargle alongside marbles Rake up ripple giggles Babbling bubbles fling Driving mild stink flakes To spread morning Knit into a dead neat serenity. On festival seasons vacations Instead of grooming the vassal comes blooming with big vessels Collects cooked food in measures From each and every homestead People pour in quiet leisure Rice in a *** of metal Curry in another kettle Filled with reverence and pleasure His heart is brimming sure All different kitchen meals In a single container appeals All children of the same ranch With many a range of community A bonehomie of unity The children heard from their friend his daughter They'd preserved All those food in cold water And all the while They'd eat from it too This collected meal for a week or two This made the children to look up at them With same respect due to a national anthem Are they more advanced? With knowledge enhanced In matters of life and cleanliness? Malayandi was unaware That his humble duty covered Sweeping as well grooming The children's hearts With arts of rare sensibility.
Continue reading...
53
lick my face toothpaste drips down my chin my head is spinnin squeeze my cheeks and kiss my teeth you're the reason that they're clean spit that mouthwash into me so I can gargle minty sweet It burns like **** but it kills all germs I'll use the floss when it's not your turn Final step: a glass of water No more candy aaron carter should we sleep or should we play? I'll be the predator. you're the prey we'll fuse our bodies like we're clay nahhh forget it. not today I'm fucking tired
0
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 3:28 AM UTC
pat-1
toothpaste
lick my face toothpaste drips down my chin my head is spinnin squeeze my cheeks and kiss my teeth you're the reason that they're clean spit that mouthwash into me so I can gargle minty sweet It burns like **** but it kills all germs I'll use the floss when it's not your turn Final step: a glass of water No more candy aaron carter should we sleep or should we play? I'll be the predator. you're the prey we'll fuse our bodies like we're clay nahhh forget it. not today I'm fucking tired
Continue reading...
16
oh i can tell you why Brexit happened... apparently in light of the European i was not European enough, a mongrel, a ******* Mongol... eastern Europeans are Mongols, mind you...                 i'm pretty sure the Brexit vote happened... because the A8 joined...         when the Eatern European joined the old post-colonial powers... plenty of Pakistanis...      do i mind? do i ******* care?! i don't care... you deal with: the minding!     no...   i have an inheritance tax without any ceremonial                                 past... your **** is your ******* **** plus the Arab, and the curry... **** off!             i'm no ******* *vierte ***** pussy-whip... you ******* yo-yo oreo!         mind you? put me down on this one... i hate the Poles... i ******* hate the Poles...    what they did to the Chernobyl me? i hate the Polacks...     don't like them...                i'd rather spit than talk to them...    i've learned my lesson...                     i hate them more than the Germans, or the Russians... i hate them with the sort of hatred reserved for               patriots...   Judas Priests...    i abhor the ****** catholicism... it makes me... cringe...                 then i think: thickens the thong - better than the Islamic crap to mind making a boot... Brexit only happened because of the supposed invasion of the A8...    the Pakistani mobile gave off a jitter - somehow the "excess" Europeans migrated...               whites combined with whites... Europeans mingled... big problem for the Pakistanis... Brexit only happened because "eastern" Europe joined the *vierte *****   well... "joined"...       some of us had enough sense as to keep the currency...   ******* Pakistani bullshitters...   what?! i thought English girls loved being gang-rape-fucked?!   no?!    my bad...                 the joining of the A8 disrupted the presence of Britain in the EU...          thumbs up on the curry-sauce... thumbs down on the Baltic sauerkraut.... guess what?!                           **** you! you ******* British Empire bonkers...   relief contra racism with an Empire disintegrating!   wankers...                    sure, beseech alliances outside of Europe...   seek them, find them, govern them...       the next time you come shoveling your **** into my: awareness... i'll be asking... so... Rotherham...           no, not really... don't bother me with that sort of **** you deal with your ******** before shoving your ***** into my mouth expecting me to gargle on the produce...                you're closer to Pakistan than i am to Mongolia... you draw the the postcard... i'll draw the pretty picture. don't get me wrong, thought, i hate the Polacks... i don't belong between them...    i'd prefer to be strapped to a Hydra of homeless dogs... than exercise the humanity of a shared tongue with these... mongrels; mind you... the British are just as bad... when it comes to their, mongrel stature.
0
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
removed.polaroid-scrabble
the Mongols are coming! / scenes from Warsaw
oh i can tell you why Brexit happened... apparently in light of the European i was not European enough, a mongrel, a ******* Mongol... eastern Europeans are Mongols, mind you...                 i'm pretty sure the Brexit vote happened... because the A8 joined...         when the Eatern European joined the old post-colonial powers... plenty of Pakistanis...      do i mind? do i ******* care?! i don't care... you deal with: the minding!     no...   i have an inheritance tax without any ceremonial                                 past... your **** is your ******* **** plus the Arab, and the curry... **** off!             i'm no ******* *vierte ***** pussy-whip... you ******* yo-yo oreo!         mind you? put me down on this one... i hate the Poles... i ******* hate the Poles...    what they did to the Chernobyl me? i hate the Polacks...     don't like them...                i'd rather spit than talk to them...    i've learned my lesson...                     i hate them more than the Germans, or the Russians... i hate them with the sort of hatred reserved for               patriots...   Judas Priests...    i abhor the ****** catholicism... it makes me... cringe...                 then i think: thickens the thong - better than the Islamic crap to mind making a boot... Brexit only happened because of the supposed invasion of the A8...    the Pakistani mobile gave off a jitter - somehow the "excess" Europeans migrated...               whites combined with whites... Europeans mingled... big problem for the Pakistanis... Brexit only happened because "eastern" Europe joined the *vierte *****   well... "joined"...       some of us had enough sense as to keep the currency...   ******* Pakistani bullshitters...   what?! i thought English girls loved being gang-rape-fucked?!   no?!    my bad...                 the joining of the A8 disrupted the presence of Britain in the EU...          thumbs up on the curry-sauce... thumbs down on the Baltic sauerkraut.... guess what?!                           **** you! you ******* British Empire bonkers...   relief contra racism with an Empire disintegrating!   wankers...                    sure, beseech alliances outside of Europe...   seek them, find them, govern them...       the next time you come shoveling your **** into my: awareness... i'll be asking... so... Rotherham...           no, not really... don't bother me with that sort of **** you deal with your ******** before shoving your ***** into my mouth expecting me to gargle on the produce...                you're closer to Pakistan than i am to Mongolia... you draw the the postcard... i'll draw the pretty picture. don't get me wrong, thought, i hate the Polacks... i don't belong between them...    i'd prefer to be strapped to a Hydra of homeless dogs... than exercise the humanity of a shared tongue with these... mongrels; mind you... the British are just as bad... when it comes to their, mongrel stature.
Continue reading...
111
You just keep on carving back my smiles, elastic vowels you blanket me in, drowning me, again, with smoke from your belly. Gargle all the chunky bits that remain in this blended relationship. Strain them out through the cheesecloth which splits apart, like the split between your legs The split of an insect’s back when it bends, arches, reaches too far. And I’m sick of that bird-shit-yellow oozing out from that crack there; held in your scarecrow arms. I don’t want to be your headache in this migraine *******
0
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 7:52 PM UTC
Rmatheson
You Have Made Us a *****
You just keep on carving back my smiles, elastic vowels you blanket me in, drowning me, again, with smoke from your belly. Gargle all the chunky bits that remain in this blended relationship. Strain them out through the cheesecloth which splits apart, like the split between your legs The split of an insect’s back when it bends, arches, reaches too far. And I’m sick of that bird-shit-yellow oozing out from that crack there; held in your scarecrow arms. I don’t want to be your headache in this migraine *******
Continue reading...
15
(insert generic death metal song title here one) Human blood bath Soak in ********* and human waste Got a taste for the diseased human race Acid melting face Drink from the spewing flesh Gurgle and gargle to the dying beat Of a victims last gulp of tarnished breath (insert generic death metal song title here two) Skull cracked and bleeding Blood **** filled wounds seeping Immaculate Christ unjaded Aborted abortion Born and bathed in afterbirth Blown and constipated in foreign ***** matter Torn from arms of zombie flesh Decaying in the hot summer sun Baked in the hot summer sun (insert generic death metal song title here three) Trash my intended victim with nothing better to do Than torture **** **** and torture some more Death does not last in the flesh Emancipated from life Just a breath away from dying Hang on to the threads of the noose Strangulating the frustrating last gasp of air Torture **** **** and torture some more Out of boredom and out of time Boredom kills You better watch out I’m coming for you (insert generic death metal song title here four) Hollow eye sockets Wretched Reeking Filthy **** Plastered on crimson caked hands ****** dirt beneath the fingernails Scratches scraped in the walls From bodies dragged thru the hall Down the stairs to the killing room Meat hook art show of disembodied And disemboweled corpses Dismembered in some horrorshow freakshow Bowl of human remains cooked on the stove For this years All-You-Can-Eat chili fest Lick savory lips with salted tongue Hunger pains from cannibalistic urges The brain tastes best when paired with a good wine Eat, drink, and be merry Tomorrow you’re on the menu
0
Sep 17, 2011
Sep 17, 2011 at 2:23 PM UTC
TonguesOfOthers
This Is Why I Don't Write Death Metal Lyrics
(insert generic death metal song title here one) Human blood bath Soak in ********* and human waste Got a taste for the diseased human race Acid melting face Drink from the spewing flesh Gurgle and gargle to the dying beat Of a victims last gulp of tarnished breath (insert generic death metal song title here two) Skull cracked and bleeding Blood **** filled wounds seeping Immaculate Christ unjaded Aborted abortion Born and bathed in afterbirth Blown and constipated in foreign ***** matter Torn from arms of zombie flesh Decaying in the hot summer sun Baked in the hot summer sun (insert generic death metal song title here three) Trash my intended victim with nothing better to do Than torture **** **** and torture some more Death does not last in the flesh Emancipated from life Just a breath away from dying Hang on to the threads of the noose Strangulating the frustrating last gasp of air Torture **** **** and torture some more Out of boredom and out of time Boredom kills You better watch out I’m coming for you (insert generic death metal song title here four) Hollow eye sockets Wretched Reeking Filthy **** Plastered on crimson caked hands ****** dirt beneath the fingernails Scratches scraped in the walls From bodies dragged thru the hall Down the stairs to the killing room Meat hook art show of disembodied And disemboweled corpses Dismembered in some horrorshow freakshow Bowl of human remains cooked on the stove For this years All-You-Can-Eat chili fest Lick savory lips with salted tongue Hunger pains from cannibalistic urges The brain tastes best when paired with a good wine Eat, drink, and be merry Tomorrow you’re on the menu
Continue reading...
51
There's a fella you've all heard of From a sandy foreign place He was sent down by his daddy From somewhere in outer space He died and he came back again Then he hit the dusty road Now he's there for me with a helping hand When I've almost dropped my load Jesus is my barman I munch his salty nuts He fills me up with lovin' Till it rumbles in my guts He's my one almighty Hoover He ***** off all my sin To all my tricky crevices He bravely enters in He eases through my tightest spots He's always got my back He lubricates my passage Down the narrow winding track He tinkers with my plumbing Removes my stubborn stains Then with his holy implement He firmly rods my drains Jesus is my bell-boy In his elevatin' craft He pushes on my button Then he takes me up the shaft He's my fire fighting saviour When flames begin to roar He grabs his mighty helmet And he breaks in my back door He's captain of my ****** Commander of my boats Don't worry if you're sinkin' fast Cos Jesus always floats If you're cold and need to light a fire The lord is right and good There's one thing he's remembered for It’s always having wood Jesus is my dentist He drills me with his bit He fills up all my cavities Then I gargle and I spit And one day when it’s legal We'll end our secret fling With his ring on my finger And his finger in my ring
0
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 10:46 AM UTC
ben-jones
My 'Friend' Jesus (humour)
There's a fella you've all heard of From a sandy foreign place He was sent down by his daddy From somewhere in outer space He died and he came back again Then he hit the dusty road Now he's there for me with a helping hand When I've almost dropped my load Jesus is my barman I munch his salty nuts He fills me up with lovin' Till it rumbles in my guts He's my one almighty Hoover He ***** off all my sin To all my tricky crevices He bravely enters in He eases through my tightest spots He's always got my back He lubricates my passage Down the narrow winding track He tinkers with my plumbing Removes my stubborn stains Then with his holy implement He firmly rods my drains Jesus is my bell-boy In his elevatin' craft He pushes on my button Then he takes me up the shaft He's my fire fighting saviour When flames begin to roar He grabs his mighty helmet And he breaks in my back door He's captain of my ****** Commander of my boats Don't worry if you're sinkin' fast Cos Jesus always floats If you're cold and need to light a fire The lord is right and good There's one thing he's remembered for It’s always having wood Jesus is my dentist He drills me with his bit He fills up all my cavities Then I gargle and I spit And one day when it’s legal We'll end our secret fling With his ring on my finger And his finger in my ring
Continue reading...
48
Gauze and gargle, clots and codeine.    No straws!    No scotch! Where wounds heal, craters remain. Months pass, violence fills the void. A call, a message, a beacon of hope. A crown for the headless king,   asleep in the depths of his saliva slicked cave. Clasping and grasping,   an imposter of the highest caliber.
0
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 9:56 PM UTC
anonymouse-jane
jaws' teacup
Gauze and gargle, clots and codeine.    No straws!    No scotch! Where wounds heal, craters remain. Months pass, violence fills the void. A call, a message, a beacon of hope. A crown for the headless king,   asleep in the depths of his saliva slicked cave. Clasping and grasping,   an imposter of the highest caliber.
Continue reading...
15
Gag gag and gargle Draggin’ through the muck of That place you said you’d never go back to Screamin’ like a devil in the dark The bump and grind of his ***** Bump and grind Got you buckin’ backwards like a Bulldog But we both know you should’a’ never brought a dog To a gun fight Too late for tears darlin’ Bite lipped quivers never saved a soul Can hear the fear in the breaks for sobs The door to his apartment never beckoned But you broke down the doors Like you had something to prove Bent you bilaterally like The corner you backed yourself into So perfect in your symmetry Till you left me for him Now you got the heart-sag Jaw dropped Dope fiend look Tearing up at the sky And the flowers White powder pluggin up your nose holes Can’t smell the **** on your knees now Or the muck you got stuck in You said I wasn’t as fun as he was As he is I never wanted to save you anyway I just thought it was beautiful The way you praised me for the things I say And the way I say ‘em Ya know I got blasted backwards By the backlash of you leaving Kicked up so much dust in the rubble And left me dizzy with the rumble Of your feet fleeing the song of some ***** stomp Headin’ Farther and farther away from safety At least I was safe I wasn’t bitter Even my bite was gentle Kind enough to remind you I still got teeth But I won’t use ‘em So before you leave me Again Take the burden The baggage The weight of my shoulders The wait for the phone call sayin’ you finally ****** up and died on me The mix tapes The t-shirts The memories of every moment my heart kept sayin’ “She won’t stay But hold her for as long as she’ll let you” Take it all And go
0
Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 5:03 AM UTC
jon-tobias
Just Go (Dubstep version)
Gag gag and gargle Draggin’ through the muck of That place you said you’d never go back to Screamin’ like a devil in the dark The bump and grind of his ***** Bump and grind Got you buckin’ backwards like a Bulldog But we both know you should’a’ never brought a dog To a gun fight Too late for tears darlin’ Bite lipped quivers never saved a soul Can hear the fear in the breaks for sobs The door to his apartment never beckoned But you broke down the doors Like you had something to prove Bent you bilaterally like The corner you backed yourself into So perfect in your symmetry Till you left me for him Now you got the heart-sag Jaw dropped Dope fiend look Tearing up at the sky And the flowers White powder pluggin up your nose holes Can’t smell the **** on your knees now Or the muck you got stuck in You said I wasn’t as fun as he was As he is I never wanted to save you anyway I just thought it was beautiful The way you praised me for the things I say And the way I say ‘em Ya know I got blasted backwards By the backlash of you leaving Kicked up so much dust in the rubble And left me dizzy with the rumble Of your feet fleeing the song of some ***** stomp Headin’ Farther and farther away from safety At least I was safe I wasn’t bitter Even my bite was gentle Kind enough to remind you I still got teeth But I won’t use ‘em So before you leave me Again Take the burden The baggage The weight of my shoulders The wait for the phone call sayin’ you finally ****** up and died on me The mix tapes The t-shirts The memories of every moment my heart kept sayin’ “She won’t stay But hold her for as long as she’ll let you” Take it all And go
Continue reading...
61
Sometimes, I think my conversations with You pick up when I put down the pen. Other times, I think You only communicate through spitballs and passed notes. I squiggle tick boxes on college ruled lines to check “yes” or “no,” but You always end up eating the answer when the Teacher is in ear shot because sound carries faster than my sideway glances. You say Your notes are too loud for me to copy off of, but I still can’t hear Your message when we’re playing telephone at recess. You avoided me on the playground in grade school, the hallways in junior high and the cafeteria in high school, so You can imagine my shock when You asked to move into a one bedroom with me in a concrete jungle gym several miles away after graduation. I have a four-year lease for this new place of mine and You used to have a tendency to not stick around when I needed You there the most, but here You are now, waiting patiently on the couch holding two cups of coffee every morning and two cups of wine every night. You have left me with questions that my tuition can’t cover and that rent can’t afford, so please understand that when I kick You out, it’s not because You ate my groceries or didn’t clean the bathroom; it’s because the mess You made for my parents to clean up was too big to incorporate in the chore list I left behind when I used to live in blanket forts. This is all hindsight, but my vision gets checked annually and optometrists say I’m going to be blind by thirty if I keep wearing my contacts during Marco Polo. I keep telling them it’s impossible to match where the sound of Your voice is coming from, so I keep my eyes shut and my arms stretched out wide before me to feel for Your presence. They say that keeping my eyes closed for too long isn’t safe and that I should invest in glasses, but my insurance doesn’t cover another lens between Us and I can’t afford to be separated from You any longer. Maybe someday, You will gargle up all those chewed up love notes and questions and I’ll find them below my tax returns. Maybe someday, You will pay me back with more than just a book fine. Maybe someday, I won’t need your change to feel like I’m worth something. But, for now, I wait patiently, writing with a pen that ran out of ink since the day You gave me hope with a hushed “maybe.”
0
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 10:43 PM UTC
mama_bee
Apprehension
Sometimes, I think my conversations with You pick up when I put down the pen. Other times, I think You only communicate through spitballs and passed notes. I squiggle tick boxes on college ruled lines to check “yes” or “no,” but You always end up eating the answer when the Teacher is in ear shot because sound carries faster than my sideway glances. You say Your notes are too loud for me to copy off of, but I still can’t hear Your message when we’re playing telephone at recess. You avoided me on the playground in grade school, the hallways in junior high and the cafeteria in high school, so You can imagine my shock when You asked to move into a one bedroom with me in a concrete jungle gym several miles away after graduation. I have a four-year lease for this new place of mine and You used to have a tendency to not stick around when I needed You there the most, but here You are now, waiting patiently on the couch holding two cups of coffee every morning and two cups of wine every night. You have left me with questions that my tuition can’t cover and that rent can’t afford, so please understand that when I kick You out, it’s not because You ate my groceries or didn’t clean the bathroom; it’s because the mess You made for my parents to clean up was too big to incorporate in the chore list I left behind when I used to live in blanket forts. This is all hindsight, but my vision gets checked annually and optometrists say I’m going to be blind by thirty if I keep wearing my contacts during Marco Polo. I keep telling them it’s impossible to match where the sound of Your voice is coming from, so I keep my eyes shut and my arms stretched out wide before me to feel for Your presence. They say that keeping my eyes closed for too long isn’t safe and that I should invest in glasses, but my insurance doesn’t cover another lens between Us and I can’t afford to be separated from You any longer. Maybe someday, You will gargle up all those chewed up love notes and questions and I’ll find them below my tax returns. Maybe someday, You will pay me back with more than just a book fine. Maybe someday, I won’t need your change to feel like I’m worth something. But, for now, I wait patiently, writing with a pen that ran out of ink since the day You gave me hope with a hushed “maybe.”
Continue reading...
80
I feel the cold bites, mittened children yell they’re sewing sky flowers as they run with yellow or red kites ocean makes that great space with tides that linger over the rocks we fashion nothing like the clouds and feel small As storms build up I walk a coastal trail where ashes of an old beach fire left roasted pinecones littered an Osprey flies up above the shore’s edge and as I read your book, I feel the restless melody in your poems Tides flap and slop against sand the color of worn concrete ocean’s spoiled lives permeate everything, my skin tastes sea salt gargle gulls and passersby all watch the waves moving towards us I’m lingering here for too long and return to my car clicking heels behind me in the parking lot the castanets of other lives with their importance arouse such unpleasant thoughts, I walk back down to the beach hurrying until I no longer hear their rhythm But now the fog rolls in and the ground is covered with wings all the doors are locked when the sky drops down like this thunder knocks in the distance saying ‘“celebrate!” its echoes wake the clouds, rain gives an answer with applause on the threshold of storm I turn away from the ocean and look east a forested mountainside crowded with fading painted houses abandoned a single car on the road with headlights, we have hundreds of days of rain here in other words, most people forget anything but rainy weather the chill from Alaska reaches down only in gusts but snow is distant This Sunday when Netarts bay is full of kayaks and fishing boats Oceanside’s patch of beach is strewn with sea grass, people with their dogs walk amongst shed crab shells, a lone restaurant opens selling coffee and pies none of the people in rain slickers and hoodies move off as the rain falls
0
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 12:31 AM UTC
mary-winslow
Reading Elizabeth Bishop’s Cape Breton in Oceanside, Oregon
I feel the cold bites, mittened children yell they’re sewing sky flowers as they run with yellow or red kites ocean makes that great space with tides that linger over the rocks we fashion nothing like the clouds and feel small As storms build up I walk a coastal trail where ashes of an old beach fire left roasted pinecones littered an Osprey flies up above the shore’s edge and as I read your book, I feel the restless melody in your poems Tides flap and slop against sand the color of worn concrete ocean’s spoiled lives permeate everything, my skin tastes sea salt gargle gulls and passersby all watch the waves moving towards us I’m lingering here for too long and return to my car clicking heels behind me in the parking lot the castanets of other lives with their importance arouse such unpleasant thoughts, I walk back down to the beach hurrying until I no longer hear their rhythm But now the fog rolls in and the ground is covered with wings all the doors are locked when the sky drops down like this thunder knocks in the distance saying ‘“celebrate!” its echoes wake the clouds, rain gives an answer with applause on the threshold of storm I turn away from the ocean and look east a forested mountainside crowded with fading painted houses abandoned a single car on the road with headlights, we have hundreds of days of rain here in other words, most people forget anything but rainy weather the chill from Alaska reaches down only in gusts but snow is distant This Sunday when Netarts bay is full of kayaks and fishing boats Oceanside’s patch of beach is strewn with sea grass, people with their dogs walk amongst shed crab shells, a lone restaurant opens selling coffee and pies none of the people in rain slickers and hoodies move off as the rain falls
Continue reading...
29
Take your quill and pen some notes Love lyrics in melody  Songs of passion and romance Write them, love, just for me Strike a chord, hum a note Give the words music sweet Make my heart go flutterin' tappin' Sweep me off my feet Then sing them baby like you do But sing them soft and low Don't pitch a note too high, my love For off key you do go Clear your throat and gargle Then sing a pretty tune  Drink some honey lemon tea Then smoothly you might croon My hearts a buzz with throbbin' romance But then it goes off course Your love notes go all awry, sorry And you my love sound hoarse So sing me a love song baby Try not to go off key I'll waltz into your waitin' arms  Love- dancin' you and me
0
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 9:16 AM UTC
nishu-mathur
Sing me a love song baby
Take your quill and pen some notes Love lyrics in melody  Songs of passion and romance Write them, love, just for me Strike a chord, hum a note Give the words music sweet Make my heart go flutterin' tappin' Sweep me off my feet Then sing them baby like you do But sing them soft and low Don't pitch a note too high, my love For off key you do go Clear your throat and gargle Then sing a pretty tune  Drink some honey lemon tea Then smoothly you might croon My hearts a buzz with throbbin' romance But then it goes off course Your love notes go all awry, sorry And you my love sound hoarse So sing me a love song baby Try not to go off key I'll waltz into your waitin' arms  Love- dancin' you and me
Continue reading...
24
Another heady day blooms and gathers pace Spring dawns at 5 a.m. with a gargle and spit in the dark Big rain drops and falls Soft blood red wet cherry stones of bath salts Splayed across my ageing face Autumn showers then walks The spiderweb of ragged birdsong feathers and Threads through the branches Of just November trees Autumnal hymnal Singing through the dying darkness, whispering Don’t capture the light And walking jogs thought Factoring rebuke as Information unwanted Proof then reproof The tarmac fields of youth Tilled by broken hands with Broken men mending pipes and wires Time leaves a presage- a butterfly mark Autumn leaves their signals sending winter’s mark Beauty colours death
0
Dec 15, 2009
Dec 15, 2009 at 1:29 AM UTC
brian-carlin
Autumn's rainbow
Another heady day blooms and gathers pace Spring dawns at 5 a.m. with a gargle and spit in the dark Big rain drops and falls Soft blood red wet cherry stones of bath salts Splayed across my ageing face Autumn showers then walks The spiderweb of ragged birdsong feathers and Threads through the branches Of just November trees Autumnal hymnal Singing through the dying darkness, whispering Don’t capture the light And walking jogs thought Factoring rebuke as Information unwanted Proof then reproof The tarmac fields of youth Tilled by broken hands with Broken men mending pipes and wires Time leaves a presage- a butterfly mark Autumn leaves their signals sending winter’s mark Beauty colours death
Continue reading...
21
With my head held high, Feeling light. I jaunt down the avenue. The heels of my feet unsteady, “This sailor still has his sea legs!” I gargle as my body stumbles, Tumbles, Face bloodied on asphalt and rubble. Even though my mug is mangled, My bottle is intact. And that is what truly matters. The glass cannot break; Shred my being to tatters! Before I part from my everlasting bond Of neck in hand. One last swig! Before I head out to sea. I may drown… But there’s no drink in the deep.
0
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 9:12 AM UTC
andrew-kelly
Stumbling Sailor
With my head held high, Feeling light. I jaunt down the avenue. The heels of my feet unsteady, “This sailor still has his sea legs!” I gargle as my body stumbles, Tumbles, Face bloodied on asphalt and rubble. Even though my mug is mangled, My bottle is intact. And that is what truly matters. The glass cannot break; Shred my being to tatters! Before I part from my everlasting bond Of neck in hand. One last swig! Before I head out to sea. I may drown… But there’s no drink in the deep.
Continue reading...
19
i still think about you every ******* day. feet flat on the tile floor eyes locked with myself in the mirror foamy lips and the bristles of my tooth brush methodically scraping memories of you, residue of our relationship, white plaque off white teeth like it makes a ******* difference. i grind the back ones down each night in an attempt to forget you, i think. hopefully one day i'll wake up just gums. but now, as i gargle i can see the face you would make as i rubbed the head of my **** against the inside of your belly button trying to get it to come out the other side and sometimes i would press on your belly to see if i was close to breaking through and your eyes would disappear and you would open your mouth s  o      w  i  d  e i could see you still had your tonsils and i would go to kiss that gasping mouth of yours and you'd act like i wasn't there at all. so i spit that ghost into the sink and watch it linger there before it has a chance to spill down the pipes clogged with your hair and i think.. ...i'm gonna go ahead and take down all the mirrors in this apartment.. ...as i blink at my reflection.
0
Dec 22, 2011
Dec 22, 2011 at 2:24 PM UTC
jerbz
mourning.
i still think about you every ******* day. feet flat on the tile floor eyes locked with myself in the mirror foamy lips and the bristles of my tooth brush methodically scraping memories of you, residue of our relationship, white plaque off white teeth like it makes a ******* difference. i grind the back ones down each night in an attempt to forget you, i think. hopefully one day i'll wake up just gums. but now, as i gargle i can see the face you would make as i rubbed the head of my **** against the inside of your belly button trying to get it to come out the other side and sometimes i would press on your belly to see if i was close to breaking through and your eyes would disappear and you would open your mouth s  o      w  i  d  e i could see you still had your tonsils and i would go to kiss that gasping mouth of yours and you'd act like i wasn't there at all. so i spit that ghost into the sink and watch it linger there before it has a chance to spill down the pipes clogged with your hair and i think.. ...i'm gonna go ahead and take down all the mirrors in this apartment.. ...as i blink at my reflection.
Continue reading...
41
"Blood keeps drinking away, certain of its destination. Driving through New Orleans at night. Gotta find a destination...just one fix." ~ Ministry Sick I gargle your blood one last time I hear you tell stories of authors you love so much while inside my head digs tunnels to China At first unwrapping, (a child with no eyelids) the chunk of tar always seems fist-sized - until it is gone High You are suddenly there, a cool summer morning anxious to be far too hot, wind blows through you as if it were balloons in rainbow hues. Reloaded conception, sanity. Sick Stupid - doing your part by recycling cans, wasting water cleaning each one out, equation a zero-sum, positive multiplied by a negative. Aokigahara, a Sea of Trees, redolence of a carrion flower attracts flies. They land, bring up dissolution and spread your legs where they deposit the eggs. Beachy Head, a white plume of efflorescent death.
0
Apr 24, 2011
Apr 24, 2011 at 8:00 PM UTC
Rmatheson
I've Got New Orleans On My Mind
"Blood keeps drinking away, certain of its destination. Driving through New Orleans at night. Gotta find a destination...just one fix." ~ Ministry Sick I gargle your blood one last time I hear you tell stories of authors you love so much while inside my head digs tunnels to China At first unwrapping, (a child with no eyelids) the chunk of tar always seems fist-sized - until it is gone High You are suddenly there, a cool summer morning anxious to be far too hot, wind blows through you as if it were balloons in rainbow hues. Reloaded conception, sanity. Sick Stupid - doing your part by recycling cans, wasting water cleaning each one out, equation a zero-sum, positive multiplied by a negative. Aokigahara, a Sea of Trees, redolence of a carrion flower attracts flies. They land, bring up dissolution and spread your legs where they deposit the eggs. Beachy Head, a white plume of efflorescent death.
Continue reading...
30
I have had ideas, many times; I have had anger at all the world And its plates and cups and knives and forks And pots and pans. I have used coffee scrub, up To my elbows And sugar scrub on my face. I have stood over rose beds With my legs far apart And bled colour to the world below, Trailing my hell along behind me. I have had bitter blandness Blanch the back Of my throat and the roof of my mouth Until all that was left was bleach. I have held glass bottles to the sky Waiting for thunderstorms. I have whispered my love to the palm of your hand, Then watched it drain out through the cracks into sand. But still I will eat All my meals out of teacups/ I will let my blemished body be/ I will smell every flower Growing along the side of a drain/ I will gargle before bed With pinecone and cherry grain/ I will watch Outside my window for hail/ I will whisper other things to you Until the end Of time Or tomorrow -- Whichever comes first -- and hope that inspiration strikes.
0
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 5:43 AM UTC
crepuscule
Brain Freeze
I have had ideas, many times; I have had anger at all the world And its plates and cups and knives and forks And pots and pans. I have used coffee scrub, up To my elbows And sugar scrub on my face. I have stood over rose beds With my legs far apart And bled colour to the world below, Trailing my hell along behind me. I have had bitter blandness Blanch the back Of my throat and the roof of my mouth Until all that was left was bleach. I have held glass bottles to the sky Waiting for thunderstorms. I have whispered my love to the palm of your hand, Then watched it drain out through the cracks into sand. But still I will eat All my meals out of teacups/ I will let my blemished body be/ I will smell every flower Growing along the side of a drain/ I will gargle before bed With pinecone and cherry grain/ I will watch Outside my window for hail/ I will whisper other things to you Until the end Of time Or tomorrow -- Whichever comes first -- and hope that inspiration strikes.
Continue reading...
34
Mechanical house-slave, iron foot Beast of burden on everyone I don't deserve my portion Your eyes scream abortion Where once there was overkill No more working for the man Nine to five suicide Instead I'll rot here slowly No risks or big explosions No walking into traffic Turtle doves laugh and procreate While my hands move on dirty-dish clocks Wonder how long I could gargle this soap Before finding the golden solution to cope These walls are nauseating Drink to oblivion Take but never give Don't ask me why my heart's still beating Or why my good behavior's fleeting I didn't make any deals Don't know why these things have happened Nor the names of these sins Locked lips have turned to skeletal stitches My unknown crimes became their riches And now I'm in memento limbo I'm trying so hard to escape To unravel these fists into fingers All I need is a bus ticket & some fun But maybe I'd be better with a trench coat & gun Put this cardboard city on the map Never knew secrets could **** Change can't come without shedding dead skin I fear I've nothing to build upon They're all planning bets and cons While I'm Pierrot in a small air duct Arctic hearts turn blind eyes I want to lift these weights off your shoulders But nothing seems to suffice Perhaps all that's left is self-sacrifice A charming, tragic gamble into dust Meanwhile, you should buy another pet Their souls are more immune To the metamorphosis disease Doubt you want to be the one to clip wings Off of locusts & flightless birds Believe me when I say I'm sorry for wounding the womb Just wish I could comprehend the deed Please enlighten me I want to make amends Before this dull flame becomes a house fire
0
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 9:04 PM UTC
lucy-tonic
***** Houses & Dish Fires in Cardboard City
Mechanical house-slave, iron foot Beast of burden on everyone I don't deserve my portion Your eyes scream abortion Where once there was overkill No more working for the man Nine to five suicide Instead I'll rot here slowly No risks or big explosions No walking into traffic Turtle doves laugh and procreate While my hands move on dirty-dish clocks Wonder how long I could gargle this soap Before finding the golden solution to cope These walls are nauseating Drink to oblivion Take but never give Don't ask me why my heart's still beating Or why my good behavior's fleeting I didn't make any deals Don't know why these things have happened Nor the names of these sins Locked lips have turned to skeletal stitches My unknown crimes became their riches And now I'm in memento limbo I'm trying so hard to escape To unravel these fists into fingers All I need is a bus ticket & some fun But maybe I'd be better with a trench coat & gun Put this cardboard city on the map Never knew secrets could **** Change can't come without shedding dead skin I fear I've nothing to build upon They're all planning bets and cons While I'm Pierrot in a small air duct Arctic hearts turn blind eyes I want to lift these weights off your shoulders But nothing seems to suffice Perhaps all that's left is self-sacrifice A charming, tragic gamble into dust Meanwhile, you should buy another pet Their souls are more immune To the metamorphosis disease Doubt you want to be the one to clip wings Off of locusts & flightless birds Believe me when I say I'm sorry for wounding the womb Just wish I could comprehend the deed Please enlighten me I want to make amends Before this dull flame becomes a house fire
Continue reading...
50
liar you lie there like a prey-hunting-spider waiting for flies or half-blind admirers in your web made of falsehoods your heart's hard like fossils I thought it would feel good until I laid down horizontal but it was only partially harmful because I too get rather hostel once I gargle what you marvel in and swallow all your awful
0
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 5:52 PM UTC
julie-butler
lies
liar you lie there like a prey-hunting-spider waiting for flies or half-blind admirers in your web made of falsehoods your heart's hard like fossils I thought it would feel good until I laid down horizontal but it was only partially harmful because I too get rather hostel once I gargle what you marvel in and swallow all your awful
Continue reading...
12
I want to be the bed covers You wake to That your restless limbs Have smothered That your emanating body The fabric You have tossed-and-turned in 8 hours hence Imprinted with your scent And the mouthwash You gargle To swoosh-and-splash Along your tongue To be in you Like a liquid ache Sloshing Waking I want to be the fork You pick your eggs with My metallic spine In your slight fingers Your demure  hands Scarred sustenance Yolk sun I want to be the comb Tangled in your frizzy hair Your wavy hair of smoke And shadowed lakes As soft as lint Cascading I want to be the cig You light on the corner To warm the brick morning I want to hang on your quivering lips Like an autumn leaf from a branch I want you to inhale me And let your body loose Feel me utterly Then exhale... Let me evaporate Into the nothingness I was before You
0
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 10:39 PM UTC
alessander
Post-Aubade
I want to be the bed covers You wake to That your restless limbs Have smothered That your emanating body The fabric You have tossed-and-turned in 8 hours hence Imprinted with your scent And the mouthwash You gargle To swoosh-and-splash Along your tongue To be in you Like a liquid ache Sloshing Waking I want to be the fork You pick your eggs with My metallic spine In your slight fingers Your demure  hands Scarred sustenance Yolk sun I want to be the comb Tangled in your frizzy hair Your wavy hair of smoke And shadowed lakes As soft as lint Cascading I want to be the cig You light on the corner To warm the brick morning I want to hang on your quivering lips Like an autumn leaf from a branch I want you to inhale me And let your body loose Feel me utterly Then exhale... Let me evaporate Into the nothingness I was before You
Continue reading...
43
Stare carefully. Drop it. Say yes to the coffee. Handle grip. Roll. Ticket scanned. Waved hand and then - stand. Stand more still. Mouthy slime. Thank you but sharp objects? Sneeze. Bless you. Floor. Floor. But more parking. Those seats. Pasta, beef. Gargle and inflate. Wear all red for all the hate. One kit. Quiet down the pumps. Noisiest shoes. And we’re gone. Thirty seven thousand feet kind of gone. Thunder side note: I want more friends. A little flash…and shake. How serious. Get up. Gingeralebreakanail. What happens if we crash. Home, not hometown.
0
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 12:15 AM UTC
meltedplastic
just as guilty
Stare carefully. Drop it. Say yes to the coffee. Handle grip. Roll. Ticket scanned. Waved hand and then - stand. Stand more still. Mouthy slime. Thank you but sharp objects? Sneeze. Bless you. Floor. Floor. But more parking. Those seats. Pasta, beef. Gargle and inflate. Wear all red for all the hate. One kit. Quiet down the pumps. Noisiest shoes. And we’re gone. Thirty seven thousand feet kind of gone. Thunder side note: I want more friends. A little flash…and shake. How serious. Get up. Gingeralebreakanail. What happens if we crash. Home, not hometown.
Continue reading...
1
Outside my unseeing windows Stringed lamp posts Pierce the deepest night. Lights still dance Along the streets, Reflected in silent pools, Splashed by gentle roars Of pavement rubber Racing the idled road. Beneath my candid room The aircon units gargle Their cold nocturne Of sleep and thought. The sidewalk stays mindful -- Witness to murmured kegs And murdered heels, Its quiescence reverberates The gentle parley Of blaring merchant loons. The boulevard refuses To choke in darkness. My mind will wait until The clamour of morning Shatters this weighted gloom.
0
Jul 30, 2011
Jul 30, 2011 at 7:48 PM UTC
JosephYzrael
Along the Boulevard
Outside my unseeing windows Stringed lamp posts Pierce the deepest night. Lights still dance Along the streets, Reflected in silent pools, Splashed by gentle roars Of pavement rubber Racing the idled road. Beneath my candid room The aircon units gargle Their cold nocturne Of sleep and thought. The sidewalk stays mindful -- Witness to murmured kegs And murdered heels, Its quiescence reverberates The gentle parley Of blaring merchant loons. The boulevard refuses To choke in darkness. My mind will wait until The clamour of morning Shatters this weighted gloom.
Continue reading...
24