Dead Rose One Feb 2015
8:00 am plenty of time to get

tinder-ed
it's how people meet

no worries here,
tinder-ed tendered thundered
by 9:00
I'll be fine,
possibilities multiple, soul flayed,
body at risk, hookup sweet,
no problem,
will line up a few,
on the hour,
star power,
no heart, but
candy is dandy
when you need a date
on Valentine night
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
http://blogs.wsj.com/personal-technology/2015/02/13/dating-heats-up-as-valentines-day-approaches/?mod=WSJhpssections_lifestyle
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Moist warm wind
moving last moments
of summer.
A busy evening hour
on the street
People out in
the front yards
to catch a
breath of air,
I open all the
windows wide
to get a flow
going
the muggy air
is heavy hardly moves
is like being
immersed in a tub
of warm water.
I drift around the
yard with a hose
filling buckets
for the cats to drink
dusk covers
me like a cloak.
An unusually hot summer...repost
Steve Page Jul 25
I've been ceaselessly sweating since June
And without fail every day around noon
My arm pits are sopping
My undies are sodden
I feel about ready to swoon

It’s been glorious weather since June
I’m not sure if you’d think it too soon
But top up the icebox
For Pimm’s on the rocks
And celebrate all afternoon
TOO HOT!  or JUST RIGHT!
Saudia R Aug 1
We sit in this room
across from one another
in silence

I try to look at everything
but you

I feel your eyes on me

I feel them roaming
as if your hands are on my body

how is that even possible

it's as if you're right beside me
grazing your fingers where they please

Your lips following their trail

lingering here and there
exploring every dip and hollow

The room feels so tight
this tension is something I can't explain
this silence so deep

I feel so restless
I want to burn something
break something
move

I chance a glance
and our eyes collide

fuck

what is this feeling
how can something feel so hot

I try to look away
but I'm frozen

I wait
But your eyes are still on mine

A silent challenge

You get up and leave the room

And I follow
veritas Jul 19
i hail from heat, heat
in the heart and in the home, in the head and in the heel of the
sword that swings for both justice and action.
i inherit this love, this life and these virtues like heirlooms.
i inherit this boldness from you
i inherit the air of a highborn lady, while not without the humility of a low born daughter from you
i inherit gentle hands of craft into fists of rage and fire that melt away sorrows from you
i rise and fall, for from you
i breathe.
unspoken it was passed down, and yet it stirs and whispers to me in my bones of
ancient thought and force,
passed down from kin to kin, from one blood to another of
temperance and will
that flow like tradition—
a book written on age-old sandstone pressed eons below the earth,
text mapped in bloodlines over a body, not alone. never fading.
you bid me to rise from dust and ashes into the woman of your forging,
and so with a kiss between my brow for
farewell and fortune
i may live with your light tucked into my heart,
because my inheritance lives within me.
a belated mother's day gift, because i never really know what to give.
i am writing and writing but nothing good is coming from these ink stained pages. the smell of lemon grass surrounds these brick walls and a feeling all too familiar fills my soul. flashes of bubbly laughter and eyes so alive. the sun shines through the window casting light onto the walls surrounding me, but despite all of the light all i see is darkness. despite only writing about the good, about the soft and warm things, about love and lust. despite thinking only of your hands tangled in my hair and your lips deeply pressed against my neck, the things that should set my skin on fire but instead leave me ice cold. unable to feel the warmth, trapped in the winters of yesterday, my favorite sweater no longer bringing comfort.
maybe i am lost
maybe i am alone
Harriet Cleve Jul 18
All good rifles go to heaven

access with your 47

A OK with an AK


At the end of your life clock

bring along your trusty Glock

don't forget to pack the stock


in that ethereal misty fog

bring along the barnyard dog

if the door is locked and things are shifty, then produce the old M60


all the saints are packing heat

keeping humans off the street

look what we have done to Earth

destroyed it all since early birth


If you don't like hell well that's too bad

you're welcome there and Nick is glad

if you want to access heaven

access with your 47
English Jam Jun 14
The air is perfumed with fresh rosemary's
And the wild springs with lush berries
Their presence colours the nursery with a sweet loom
It bleeds into the forecast for tomorrow's gloom
Nostalgia hits hard, heartbreaking and eerie
For a day when I wasn't paranoid and weary
Well, I'll be down by the Brighton pier
Watching birds float past in lonely fear
I'd love to turn away

The pristine sun shines like Hades
The outside scent is yellow, maybe
Little daises laugh in the foreground
Gardens sow a loving sound
Once I could see hope in the trees
And the love that whispered on the breeze
Now the trees foreshadow longing
And the gale howls with wronging
I'd love to turn away

The intimacy in my yellow tinted flowers seems to have faded
And the soft orchards have been invaded
My words burnt in a smouldering pile of dust
And steaming with the heat of my lust
I told a crowd I had something to say
But the people turned away
away
away...
CK Baker Jan 2017
cedar planks line the dim lit hall
morning snow begins to fall
sepia print in a chipped wood frame
embers spark from the franklin flame

rustling sounds from bunks below
records play in a tight alcove
bacon grills on the iron sheet
gloves are warmed by baseboard heat

bean bags tossed on colored shag
papka placed as a punching bag
red brick wall with mounted poles
windows filled with glacier bowls

whiskey jack on the southern rail
a frozen patch of wine and ale
pine cones fall in gathering white
brothers bathed in firelight

sleighs are on the table top
canyon road is at a stop
northern winds that bite the face
lines are up the gondola base

cornice clipped on gully goat
the rubber man appears to float
alpine depths are on the rise
peaking sun through parting skies

triple ropes and nordic luge
honored guests from baton rouge
gelande jumps on rainbow drive
nostalgia’s light and warm reply
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