"gobbled" poems
Eyes of pale celadon
refulgent in the dusk
lips of skin so thin they grin
around the tips of tusk
Jagged saw-like teeth
beneath a sagging beastly jaw
the putrid reek of flesh and cheek
he's gobbled - nights before
His pointed nose will point his toes
when he snuffs you shuffling by
the fright enough will be so tough
your legs will lignify!
And once he's done he'll click his tongue
his mood enhanced by food
he'll walk home late and ululate
his deepest gratitude
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 11:05 AM UTC
He lived under his mother roof, and
every morning he gobbled down her food
until his stomach was sickly full.
He smelled like **** and cheese
sweating bits of fish and chips,
light years ago he used to be the biggest tease.
He spent most of the time on the couch
day in, day out.
he morphed into such a grouch.
Gravity was strong with his mass,
his huge *** made a huge stamp
day after day watching the same crap.
Countless hours watching TV,
reality shows, **** and glee
************ his only ecstasy.
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 1:59 AM UTC
Your lies were dipped in bittersweet chocolate;
with a heaping amount of caramel sauce drizzled on top.
I gobbled up more than I care to openly admit;
in fear of what others will think and say.
After enjoying your momentary treats;
came the truth;
with so much salt, it was baffling to eat.
A.K.A
(10 w)
The lies I ate, but
the truth I couldn’t take.
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 8:27 PM UTC
I will fade away, like a sketch
Gone, torn, broken so far away
Where no one would be there to catch
Not even a word to say
Alone, in this busy world
An identity of an unknown
I'd be forgotten soon
Like a weary leaf, been blown
You promised to be by my side
But instead, you pushed me outside
Dropped from a glass tower
Taunting every minute, every hour
What did I do wrong?
What have I ever done?
You hated our favorite song
The love that shined, now all gone
Perhaps, burry me in your memory
And walk away like a stranger
You'd not stop, even if I tried
And never see the danger
I'd be fine, yes I'll be
Once you were mine
But now on my own, living you alone
I'll be fine
So sorry, I took up your time
That for now, you labeled as wasted
You never told me my crime
But the bitter hate, I tasted
I'd have lived by your side
In the dark days, showing you light
But now, I am fading away
Like a mist, in the darkest night
I should've never loved you
If I'd known, you'd leave my side
While breaking my heart into two
You gobbled up, all your lies
What should I think?
What should I do?
Atleast give me a clue
Of what I should do?
In a blink, you took all away
No reasons, no words, no nothing at all
So I am fading away, yes I am
I cannot hear your call
Coz,
I
am
Falling
Falling,
Fading
Away....
©sim
Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 5:06 AM UTC
He came from a land unrefined;
Encompassed by violence, poverty yet possesses clarity of mind.
A mind built from Hardwork and Determination,
A soul inspired by Intrepidation
Freedom, Release and an infectious sense of inner Peace.
They met in a state of flux,
Going, coming, nothing left but to give it up,
So heart broken, she took his hand,
The adventure began on water but would end on land,
Meadows, Beaches, Visions left them speechless.
She saw a flash, a light;
Precautionary measures tested the capacity of his might.
Slow Down! She'd lost sight.
Tried to keep up but her heart said "Flight"!
Escape! Hide from the cruelty clawing from the inside.
Time was chasing, they had to keep up,
He left as she collapsed into the mouth of a half empty cup.
She gobbled up the cup with no thought of tomorrow.
"He is strong, he'll be fine," focus deflected from sorrow.
Regret, Remorse, shall Fate be trusted to run it's course?
Smiles and Mischief were all that could remain,
She slowly began to learn to becloud fruitless pain,
She's walked away from tough stains,
In memory of his arms where enthusiasm never wanes.
Growing, longer, when he returns she shall be stronger.
If Fate knows Love and Love is true,
Fate shall be entrusted to do what it do,
But Fate can be twisted, Fate can be cruel
And the little girl knew the twisted Power of Fate's Rule
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 7:37 AM UTC
Restless hungry, found a tiny scrap of a brownie in the back of the refrigerator, wrapped in plastic about the size of a large 35 cent quarter.
Gobbled up and gone.
Eye had purchased it a week ago, maybe more.
Actually it was more like eye was held up at gunpoint by a sad young face for a large and green single dollar Bill.
In return, was bequeathed said brownie eye dropper-ful.
The apartment I live in a big city, many apartments were recession empty for a long time. But in the last few years, the empty apartments in the building were almost all sold to foreigners.
Now the bldg is an amulet melted of the lucky overseas fortunate, those overseers overseas seizers, who come to reside in the most fabulous site in these United States...and buy a piece of the dream away from the be-headers, secret police or governments that decide you are now an enemy of the state, as of this morning. No judgement.
anyway, this doe eyed child of estimated six or eight years of age accosts me in our large lobby, proffers me the brownie scrap for a Bill.
me a sucker of a salesman myself, and an eye affician-doe, well those doefuls, those eyes, no one could resist!
so eye asked her name,
but all she could say in
Anglais was...
"Brownie One Dollar?"
laughing out loud for no apparent cause,
the hanging about lobbyists looked at me staring...
Why was eye laughing?
laughing cause eye realized
this elfin child had become
fitfully but fully Americanized.
and I loved her eyes in mine, and when I see her periodically, I say:
"Hey! Brownie One Dollar, How are ya!"
and everyone snicker smiles at the old man with the even stupider grin upon his eyes.
That would be eye.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 7:02 PM UTC
Belinda lived in a little white house,
With a little black kitten and a little gray mouse,
And a little yellow dog and a little red wagon,
And a realio, trulio, little pet dragon.
Now the name of the little black kitten was Ink,
And the little gray mouse, she called her Blink,
And the little yellow dog was sharp as Mustard,
But the dragon was a coward, and she called him Custard.
Custard the dragon had big sharp teeth,
And spikes on top of him and scales underneath,
Mouth like a fireplace, chimney for a nose,
And realio, trulio, daggers on his toes.
Belinda was as brave as a barrel full of bears,
And Ink and Blink chased lions down the stairs,
Mustard was as brave as a tiger in a rage,
But Custard cried for a nice safe cage.
Belinda tickled him, she tickled him unmerciful,
Ink, Blink and Mustard, they rudely called him Percival,
They all sat laughing in the little red wagon
At the realio, trulio, cowardly dragon.
Belinda giggled till she shook the house,
And Blink said Week! , which is giggling for a mouse,
Ink and Mustard rudely asked his age,
When Custard cried for a nice safe cage.
Suddenly, suddenly they heard a nasty sound,
And Mustard growled, and they all looked around.
Meowch! cried Ink, and Ooh! cried Belinda,
For there was a pirate, climbing in the winda.
Pistol in his left hand, pistol in his right,
And he held in his teeth a cutlass bright,
His beard was black, one leg was wood;
It was clear that the pirate meant no good.
Belinda paled, and she cried, Help! Help!
But Mustard fled with a terrified yelp,
Ink trickled down to the bottom of the household,
And little mouse Blink strategically mouseholed.
But up jumped Custard, snorting like an engine,
Clashed his tail like irons in a dungeon,
With a clatter and a clank and a jangling squirm
He went at the pirate like a robin at a worm.
The pirate gaped at Belinda's dragon,
And gulped some grog from his pocket flagon,
He fired two bullets but they didn't hit,
And Custard gobbled him, every bit.
Belinda embraced him, Mustard licked him,
No one mourned for his pirate victim
Ink and Blink in glee did gyrate
Around the dragon that ate the pyrate.
But presently up spoke little dog Mustard,
I'd been twice as brave if I hadn't been flustered.
And up spoke Ink and up spoke Blink,
We'd have been three times as brave, we think,
And Custard said, I quite agree
That everybody is braver than me.
Belinda still lives in her little white house,
With her little black kitten and her little gray mouse,
And her little yellow dog and her little red wagon,
And her realio, trulio, little pet dragon.
Belinda is as brave as a barrel full of bears,
And Ink and Blink chase lions down the stairs,
Mustard is as brave as a tiger in a rage,
But Custard keeps crying for a nice safe cage.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 5:15 AM UTC
There’s this tattoo I wish to get
if I ever get rid this fear
of making decisions.
It’s this little girl, maybe seven years old or so
she’s holding on to an aged dandelion by its neck.
Her eyes are closed and open to a whole other world -
she shoots a wish toward it
with every muscle in the body
that she doesn’t know the names of yet.
The seeds are propelled across my back
and transform into the shooting stars they always dreamed they’d be.
Somewhere below
on an otherwise empty beach
are a couple of teenagers
discovering themselves inside one another.
They kiss and tell no one.
The blanket promises to keep their secret
and the sand sneaks into places it knows it’s unwelcome.
They are drunk on the passion of the moment.
She’s lost in the stars
and wants to gently scoop those lights from the sky
seal them in a mason jar
and watch them do their cosmic dance around each other
to remind herself of how small she feels under them
and how amazing it felt to be everything and nothing at the same time.
She holds her breath, closing her eyes
sending up a wish in the music of young lust.
Meanwhile,
on my rightmost shoulder blade
There’s an older man, looking down a wishing well
at the two young lover’s play.
Smiling at his memories
which, like the ink, are fading.
A wish falls out his mouth and speeds down into the darkness
it bounces off the back of the boys head,
and is gobbled up by the greedy sand.
Nov 23, 2010
Nov 23, 2010 at 3:25 PM UTC
I remember you spirt in the Chelsea Flophouse
you were opening one's lips so gorgeous and so creamy
greasing me stamen on the unfucked bonk
while the bangers let it rip in the alley
Those were the diseased minds and that was Newfangled York
we were squirting for the wads and the meatballs
and that was gobbled snog for the creamers inside Gloria
centrifugally stiff is thus those of White House Nazis
Ah but you copulated telescopic didn't you basket case
you just acidified your jockstrap on the shoulders of the scrum
you copulated telescopic I never once heard you use sign language
I input you, I don't intake you
I input you, I don't intake you
and all of that balling hard on
I remember you spirt in the Chelsea Flophouse
you were gorilla—like your ****** *********** was absolute epic
you leaked me again you frocked slap—up old salt
but for me you would **** an unzipping
And shaving your tongue because the creatures lust after us
who are barked at by the Daleks of *** appeal
you Rohypnolled yourself you emitted jet so what?
we are radioactive salvo we shoot full of holes the stride piano
*** one fine morning you copulated telescopic didn't you cocker
you just blunted your extremity on the cattle
you copulated telescopic I never once smelled you emit
I intake you, I don't input you
I intake you, I don't input you
and all of that balling hard on
I don't mean to insinuate that I slobbered over you peanuts
I can't withhold *********** of each crouched ****
I remember you spirt in the Chelsea Flophouse
that's oodles I don't even kick—start you that thick and fast
Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 3:36 PM UTC
*It resembles a snowy mountain range
That white crumpled sheet
Elegant in its simplicity
A Realistic model
Of peaks and valleys
In my admiration
Of this honest
Piece of art
Artistry spawned from life itself
Dexterity by the cosmos
I nearly miss it
The truth
The veracity of the exhibit
The message
I stop
I study
I look deeper
A torrent of understanding
Pours down my soul
The last morsels of dignity
Greedily gobbled up
By my awkward gaze
A piece of art
Lays still on that hospital bed
Alone*
Oct 6, 2010
Oct 6, 2010 at 12:50 PM UTC
Success ***** as they say,
hellishly. She's a rich little
seductress who's certainly sensational
at blowing a man's brains out.
I know. She had her teeth into me.
I can smile now, but for a while
I couldn't get enough. She was hot stuff,
that ***** goddess, success.
I was a real sucker for her charms
when she came greasing up.
I really got into the groove
when she pulled me off to the gravy train
where we gobbled down every drop.
I tell you, I couldn't stop.
What a succulent princess she is,
that ***** goddess, success.
But after it had all blown over
and she was hanging out with other guys,
I had a few days when my eyes weren't glazed.
Maybe she was a bit of a ***** actually,
always hustling for more.
Attractive to woo, but really, she *******
them, always pushing to score,
that ***** goddess, success.
I met her again the other day,
and she ran her tongue over her lips. Jeez.
I nearly went weak at the knees.
But we're only old friends now,
and I'm over her disease. So I wasn't desperate to please
her. She's such a terrible tease. She wriggled her assets
but I didn't ask her to come again,
that ***** goddess, success.
Mike T Minehan
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 12:56 AM UTC
This one here, why I got it from a Pirate,
He stood with a peg leg and a beard full of knots,
The deck beneath him was littered with hefty dots,
A rather peculiar sight, if I was to be asked,
Which I was, and with that, this eye became glassed!
The one over there, I suppose was from that Siren,
Her skin was blue, eyes a shimmering gold,
Her chest was bare, a sight that the sailors adored to behold,
Excuse me, miss, I inclined my head, "While this is all well and pleasing,"
She clocked my tooth out, when I continued, "In this air, you must be freezing!"
Why that one there, that's from a Queen,
She stood with regal grace and beauty,
Though in my opinion, her dress and manner was rather snooty,
When asked in regards to a task appointed to me,
I informed her that if it was so important, SHE could go water the overgrown tree!
That one there, why that's from a Fairy,
It resided within a nest of glittering gems and jewels,
Each of course, lifted from some wandering fools,
Eyes gleaming with desire and greed,
I soon found those little Fairies are capable of bites to make you bleed!
Over here, you'll see it plainly, is from a Dragon,
It was a plague on the town, its wake of destruction spreading wide,
With grasping claws and snapping teeth, it gobbled up my bride,
I hunted it where it slept, and moved to strike it dead,
And with that, I lost my head!
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 3:06 AM UTC
Through the fields of stars and through the black forest,
And always West, trailing behind them a glowing disk,
With their frizzy coats and gnarling smiles; the heroes try to **** them with meteors.
Scattered shards of stone-fire bits, and the ashen paw prints evading it,
…and the horse shines upon Lykaon’s grave.
Howling are the wolves of Phanes, their number growling with the rains.
And matching windy howling screams, with hoots and hollers inbetween…
The great horns point at the wolven den, from which Fenrir’s gaze sees all man’s sin.
And the flames of Cerberus lick the hori-zon;
…as he descends into Hell’s cave,
And the Drakon hungry for lycanthropes, he hunts the plains of Hades;
But the cunning beasts avoid him while calling out to the moon, over their master’s grave.
Calling out over Lykaon’s grave,
Cyclopean-cotton collects, a smoking pillar covering guide. Obscuring the light and now they are vexed, as the Lykos struck down, they have died.
And their flesh is what the Drakon does crave, as they are devoured on the stones of Lykaon’s grave,
…at that place known as Lykaon’s grave,
Struck down with asters
and gobbled-up,
over Lykaon’s grave.
Wyrd-wolven stars at night
…over Lykaon’s grave,
A werewolf at,
The entrance,
To the cave,
And that King,
…who stands before Lykaon’s grave.
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 3:00 PM UTC
I’m stuck somewhere between your head and your heart
caught in the back of your throat
always on the back of your tongue
and I’ve marked my name and days here in my prison
in the soft tissue around me
I’m sure it will scar, at least a little
my feet are burned from your reflux
and I have lost the strength to climb, to fight
you will not swallow me or spit me out
you just keep me here pressed up against the wall
your voice moves through me, shakes me
I catch a glimpse of the back of your lips
and the memories of when you kept me there, gently, between them
overwhelm me; I long to be back there
back before you gobbled me up
and my grief upon your breath is a breath of strength for me
I’m sure it is my last
I’m stuck somewhere between your head and your heart
caught in the back of your throat
and there are two ways I can go
but I do not want to live in your head anymore
although you know I love the view from out your eyes
but it is far too lonely to live as just a thought
in the magnificent gallery that is your mind
and I am afraid that your heart will read ‘no vacancy’
or that I cannot afford the rent
or that I will grow weak inside the muscle
when it beats me down again
and I will no longer have the strength to climb back up
as I make the drop as the knife makes the plunge
down to your stomach
to be digested
alongside this morning’s coffee
and I fear the caffeine will stay in your system much longer than I will
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 2:40 PM UTC
There was a snail (named Dale)
with a very long tail
who ventured off into the world.
He said to himself
(Dale the snail)
I'd love to meet a bootiful goil.
So in a flash from space,
with mucus running down her face,
came an alien creature called Joan,
She saw a silver line
(it was a snail trail)
and followed it to see where it goes.
And far in ...the distance
she saw in an instance
at the end of the snail trail sparkling in the sun-
A slimy and sweet
creature she'd love to meet
with a shell on his back for a home.
She said:"I do declare,
you look dashing and fair"
as bubbles oozed from her eyes.
Dale just blushed,
as his face lit up,
and said: "aw you're just saying that you sassy young blob of an alien gawjus sweet thing with no hair :)"
She looked at this tiny dream of a slobber,
he was in awe at her globber.
But their hearts sank at their difference in size.
She was glandular large
like a bright yellow barge
and he was as small as a splarge.
A stick insect saw -
the tragedy of it all
and came up with a very cunning plan.
He knew a wizard once
who ate snails for lunch,
they could trick him to changing her small...
As he told them the tale,
their faces went pale
but their love was too strong for the fear.
So they slithered and shlozzered
to Joan's flying saucer
to find the castle of Wizzy the ****
The wizard was waiting
with his eyes full of hating
and a knife and a fork in each hand.
There was garlic and salt
that he took from his vault
and he drooled on his beard as he sang:
"Alien Shpeegle
with shnails in shmeegle,
a delightful shurprishe for a man!
Groggy my groach
with shome shlime on my toasht"
and he pranced and danced with his band.
The spacecraft landed,
unexpectant of ambush,
the couple wanderd on in.
Wizzy swung from a rafter
and trapped Dale in a corner,
and said: "My you'll go well with my Shtew!"
Joan got mad
and rolled on to her lad
and ****** the wizard into her goo.
She suddenly felt all tingly
as she turned into a twinky,
there was nothing more she could do.
The Wizard escaped
and poor Dale met his fate,
and was smeared on the twinky sliced in two.
Wizzy gobbled them up
with some glee in his cup,
and then succumbed to food poisoning goo.
So it seemed that it ended
on that dark cold September,
for the lovers who's loving was doomed...
But on a planet far away
at the early break of day
two souls bubbled in primordial stew.
An amoeba named Dale
and an amoeba named Joan
were floating in bubbles of gas,
So deep the attraction
-the magnetized action,
they could now be together at last.
Dec 11, 2010
Dec 11, 2010 at 1:38 AM UTC
TOAST
"FIRE. . .FIRE!"
The house was busily
burning down.
"Quick. . .quick!"
Mum screeched .
"Go fetch the marshmallows!"
I dashed back
into the inferno
& emerged
long minutes later
my eyebrows ablaze
my nostril hairs slightly singed
The fire had greedily gobbled up
all the marshmallows
for itself.
**** said Mum.
"Damn...damn...damn!"
slapping me
about the head
with...each...uttered
syllable.
"I managed to save a loaf
of Mother's Pride!"
I cried.
"It will have to go!"
sighed Mum.
And so, we had
some toast
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 1:52 PM UTC
I laid nose-to-nose, in tall, old grasses, with a spirited coyote, some nights ago.
He said to me, with lips unparted and low, shiny eyes - to listen.
Hesitantly, I inched forward and nudged that coyote with my face, prodding him for something more.
But, nothing came.
He simply stared back at me, unblinkingly.
“I listen!”
I shouted with a heart on fire.
“I listen more than anyone I know!”
The coyote continued his staring game, quieting my bosomed flames.
Stubborn - they erupted, something ugly, from the valley, into the mountaintop.
Spilling from eyes, in the mountainside, I screamed back into his so loud,
The mountain ached from its shut in echo.
Patient " the coyote waited.
So, I stopped.
Somehow surprised, I found that, after the flames subsided into greys of ashes, in silence, I had begun to listen.
That coyote’s eyes were urging eyes, unmoving " unrelenting.
Obedient, I drew forth my worn, careful bag out and placed it, gently, in the dirt between us.
The coyote snatched it, in the grain between our breaths, and held it between clenched teeth.
I glared at him with challenging eyes " he stared back at me, just the same.
I reached out to grab it, but halfway there, I heard the coyote command me,
“Stop.”
The coyote lay there, my ashes raging about loudly " still silent, my bag between his teeth.
As the ashes settled, his glaring eyes mellowed, and I watched as he gobbled it up.
--
A crow cawed somewhere.
The full moon shone down approvingly.
My soul sighed once.
My body followed.
The coyote slept -
I bowed my head in silence.
Jul 27, 2011
Jul 27, 2011 at 2:09 PM UTC
It's nice to remember
who I am, ever since
Eros shot a quiver
of arrows into my chest
and spun me around
sending me aimlessly
towards the first
man shaped pinata.
Swinging blindly
into the darkness
of my blind fold
waiting for the thud
of hearts hitting the ground
and shattering into hundreds
of tiny sweets
begging, to be cherished
and gobbled up
by a school yard
kind of love.
May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 10:05 PM UTC
It's just me, it's just me come and sit on my knee!
I'll tell you a story of how the wind blows, and where all the bad kids go.
The boogie man ate em', he snatched them up by the toes, spanked them on the bottom, and gobbled the boogers from their nose!
Oh YES, the boogie mans got em' oh mommy and daddy they know, it’s off to the boogie man all the bad kids go!
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 3:42 PM UTC
*I saw you
after a long while and
just like before, my heart skipped;
all the noise became a murmur,
I ate my words, gobbled up my phrases,
and I can't finish anythi*
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 7:09 AM UTC
The alligator in my dreams
Stomped on all my pretty things
He gobbled down
My favorite clown
He quickly tuned around
Chased me till he found
All he need do is open his jaws
In I'd crawl
In the belly of the beast
I found the thief
That stole my heart
So I took back my part
Turned around and strolled right out
Between the teeth, in that beast's snout
Pinched myself, so I would awaken
So I could placed back the heart that's was forsaken
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 2:19 PM UTC
Old breadcrumbs litter the placemat where
my little one had sat that morning.
That morning I told her she was running too
late to finish the PB&J with fine
pineapple pieces she had made for herself.
She gobbled the thing up in seconds, and with
a mouth still full she walked over and mumbled
bye. I wiped juice leaking out the corner, and
with a snort and a kiss to her forehead I
said see ya’, have fun. And with that she was out
the door, her red backpack one strapped like the
baseball boys did.
All that’s left are these breadcrumbs. I can’t
get myself to clean them up and throw
them away. I see them every day,
every meal, every middle of the
night as I peck on pineapple PB&Js.
As much as I know these crumbs must go, I don’t
regret for a second letting her eat that sandwich
the way she did. It was hell to raise such a rebel,
but she was never going to let anyone stop
her from what she wanted, including me. And she
makes me proud. I’ll clean it up eventually, but
for now, my little one’s breadcrumbs stay.
-
Aleksander Mielnikow (Alek the Poet)
Jul 3, 2019
Jul 3, 2019 at 1:25 PM UTC
Perusing poet’s pandemic prose
A question in my mind arose
Angst aside what have they got
Ill tell you friend
It’s not a lot
Excuses for the lives they lead
Plant the idea
Nurture the seed
Willing victims succumb to their charm
Understandingly
Unerringly
Blind to the harm
The harm of a contrived reality
Dressed up as spirituality
Pretence of a world that doesn’t exist
Sensibility shrouded in gullible mist
Hurt worn as a badge of pride
Careful it’s not misapplied
Lest they see your
Jekyll and Hyde
Wary what’s put out in rhyme
Slowly ******* you in
One at a time
Once the carrot is gobbled up
Once they drunkest from the cup
No holds barred
The game is on
Universally singing the same old song
This life I lead has ****** me dry
Left me often wondering why
Life lived only on the edge
Carefully honouring the kudos pledge
Passion intense is
Their line of defence
Bruised and battered
Tattered and torn
Eternally waiting for life to return
So…Readers beware of the poets lure
Their chosen words are not the cure
This Forum is their new aged lair
In shadows waiting to ensnare
Whilst drowning in narcissistic despair
You’re a fragile soul
With a fragile life
And they will wield their pen
Like a well butchered knife
So please… do not believe that you are The One
You are merely a chapter in a story that’s already begun
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 2:06 AM UTC
The Deerfield keeps me. My eyes follow the treeline testing my wit, tossing new exemplary corybantic lights. They zoom around me in hurried whirling motion. Then you appear. You can have my moon and my planets, my stars, and I haven't even spoken yet. In the midst of an earnest offering to the first of three heavy drinking boisterous uneasy types. I tell the stranger I'll drive him the, but what- .2 miles to his home- and your light exaserbates my speech.
Maybe you thought I'd go for your nose, but I'm after your breath. Rightly so, too many men have squandered much of the joy from being superfluously strangely with strangers. The drunk party exits screen left, and a new character, a Kennedy evolves from the shadows.
[This is where you begin conducting]
My thoughts brim with colors, patterns, shades, and hues. I paused to take in these profound chakras I thought had become the desiccate dusty footprints, walking around Foley's pond trying to find the best fishing hole through the rough and tangled undergrowth that consumed those hours of my life.
Your writing is far better than mine was at your age.
There is depth and richness in the vocabulary you choose.
Let me kidnap you for a day, present you with the places I like to let
My eyes gaze upon. Between the thatchwork of black and white and gray.
Where are my hands? The Earth is at my back, she begs me
To pry further, to know better the rejuvenating handy-work she
Has laid before me, and the noncom I mustn't reject either.
I cannot sleep. I wouldn't want to sleep if I could. I would reject it as I am. Drive until daylight casts morning into memory, I would recreate another
Fifty of exceptionally raw and indulgent exchanges. This is before the questions begin.
I inquiry myself to draw your story through the sparseness of details I ferociously gobbled up with excitement and profound wonder. I am absent in my own hours, and yet there is frothy balance, no bedevilments of the flesh, but even so we are only the skin and bone and makings of human. I commit to protect you from harm and show you beauty and humor amidst the chaos and crisis of life's evolution. It is your excruciating curiosity and lack of fear that draws me ever more near.
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC