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Gillian May 2013
his breath washed against me
like the sea into a pier
in the brown gloom of his basement apartment-
the greenness of our unemployed summer days
halted by Arsenault's phone call

those deep azure ripples in the mohawk river
tinged with creamy moonlight
brought this life to the shore
here we go lie down, lie down-
a conjectural pernicious crimson tide

we wore black as midnight
like still, ominous birds
shrouded, our eyes a profligate deluge,
the cemetery inundated with pink brio
and the ****** yellows of inexpedient sunshine
Anna Pavoncello Nov 2014
This poem is no Billy’s babble,
I know this girl who tends to dabble,
Dabble with unkind creatures.

She’s beautious, dark, and loyalty-tied,
Non-gregarious, starry-eyed;
Starry-eyed for the inexpedient.

Wit is written on skin so fair
Eyes like skies, too deep to pare.
But pare her idea of ideal men.

Challenge, with whom her morals meet,
Picks scoundrels, wreaking calm deceit.
Deceitful words are hooks to her.

Beknownst to all but she herself,
These rogues take riches, turned to pelf.
Pelf, for she is better than them.

Too low they sink below her merit,
Her virtue, they could stand to inherit,
Inheriting her in return.
Steph Portuguez Jan 2020
On the castrated futuristic **** a jump had been executed. I witnessed it, he adjusted his boots, felt like vanishing, the leaving of pure prudence.

Nothing makes any sense when the revision turns into continuity. The dawn is inexpedient to the lousy recumbent and its prosperities. The unawareness has made it to the core, therefore, the nightfall passes its independence and unfairness to our own.


Oh! My irrelevant donkey, that one, to whom I've seen tumble down and not approaching a grip. To his uncovered castration had been given a hopeless drop of newly celebration. That the donkey responsible for the path, the vintage tumbril cannot allow him to surpass.

Suspiciously probable for the conscious well wrapped up in the voluminous indifference, a conjugated apathy choir with granted presence and simplicity.

For him, that was, the moment, the freeze, the calendar date, the burial, call it a day. Of this cursed sequence, uncertain, an emerged insomnia confined in a sepulcher of paranoia.

It has torn, that liberty of unknown. His frozen bowels, it spans, a recommended dealer, I now ingest the syrup, it has darkened a bit in this limbo. The glucose did not annihilate the glutton, enough insulin was more as to come to delicacy, the quadruple figure does not reflect with no lens nor ability.

A hanging genital, fully outworn, in debt to the swelling and proceeding bomb. The ****** hole has been closed to the visitor in roll. A relic since conception, sodden with my self-distrust, muzzled to the art of action and disrupt. Poor dehydrated, yet to inaugurate, an everlasting sedateness of demising absoluteness and abundance of self-reproach.

I **** you! You irreverent donkey, to a steady furore and irrelevance, quite a damaging endorphin. Your tutelage did never flood me with yearness, it had to disguise with this sugar barrel of stupidity and clenching. This untainted audacity will never lift a curtain hiding the unseen and revolting... thing.

The mentioned tumbril and diluge of fresh sweat, a dryed armpit but a head transpiring with a tiny leap. An immense extension awaits for the indolent sailor, outstanding intentions to be a renegade, but somehow those rails just... get to him.

Hallucinogens of the stepmother earth, it is time for the urged recess. Bell, bell! I beg you to blare. Esoteric prairies dance to the classic and strange macarena, transported plebs by European train, to Trainspotting it reflects. That turbulent, nostalgic and wondrous effect.

Oh! My irrelevant donkey, all you see and will come to see, will puff out as everyone ticks. Your indignated throbbing will pace as impatient as you may. Your pant for conclude, but also recapture will barely endure. Nevertheless, your undoing will bash up all you never cared to do and take.
Ayn Jan 2020
The knot that resides
Upon the finger
Of your precious other
Is inexpedient for
The justification of your means.
Don’t go further than what’s socially acceptable for love. In the end, your efforts will not be justified. This applies to both general outcomes, yes and no.

— The End —