"laminate" poems
The hate the kept me in
The self love that drew me out
The day I built the empire
The day I burnt it down
And all with one phrase:
"As an Ally"
involuntarily,
Without hesitation
it slid out of my mouth
the familiar words of similar context
So many people know
And so many people hate
None of them say
That to be like this is okay
Even those who claim to love
me
Even those who claim to care
Will never help me through this
Not ever would they dare
the door is shut again
but this time its translucent
I'm not hidden
behind the sky so laminate
With hate
Side A hates side B
Side B hates side A
What happens if you
Are part of side
C?
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 6:16 PM UTC
I panicked.
My brain attacked today.
It attacked my lungs,
Stupid sharp whistling sounds.
I looked out of control.
But I felt aware,
that I wasn’t breathing,
that I was attacking myself again.
It attacked my heart,
terrifying skipping stones in my chest.
Whipped one by one,
Muffled blows in my breast.
I panicked.
I looked out of control but I was aware,
of the guilt,
of what will drag along with me.
I can’t be freed from fault,
It’s not the way.
Because I panic;
is why I don’t relate,
is how I cleanse.
Fright being necessary,
like a dream
where you muscle tone fails you,
I was paralyzed.
My knuckles hit the laminate –
again, again, again.
But I don’t move.
Feeling my bicep twitch,
Feeling my throat raw,
My mouth wide open,
But I don’t make a sound.
Because I panic.
The power inside,
will never translate,
to the outside.
People may see flickers,
of insanity in my eyes.
They may see me tighten up.
They may seem me strain and ease.
But I will never translate.
Until it snaps,
Until I no longer attack myself.
Until I no longer panic.
Until I bellow,
Until I howl,
Until I wail,
Until I swing and connect.
Until it attacks outwardly,
Instead of inwardly.
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
The shouting face of the sea
Ravages rocks on the toes of the beach
Seashells glued to glass
laminate the reflecting rays of the baking sun
A pebble preaches to a mountain
Underneath an electric dream
Galvanize my heart,
It needs a jump-start
Stuck in a frozen tundra of fallacy
Chasing broken tragedies
I told her
I tried
Nothing seems to change the mind
So I guess I’ll have to lie
Praying a lion’s smile
captures her immaculate eyes
But my summer’s luck lacks the ability to clear cloudy skies
Now I am alone in a misty meadow
With taciturn trees
Yet you were like the warm belly of a manatee
And I was a calloused heart hoping for a remedy
Aug 25, 2010
Aug 25, 2010 at 5:28 AM UTC
i’m fighting with gravity
to the death- until my head rests,
empty as my belly
on this false-porcelain floor-
skin waxy as laminate over
these heavy hollow bones
waiting for freedom-
liberation from this sullen casing.
i shake, manic-
blood pressure in the basement,
nauseous from diet pills and anxiety.
jittery, stare at the ceiling-
a spider, stick-limbed, teases me,
but here’s the silver lining:
no curds or whey coating
my shining insides.
i am stronger and brighter than ever
as black swims in my vision-
light-headed from malnutrition,
i wrap fingers around my wrists
to make sure i haven’t escaped my limits.
the mirror doesn’t lie, but it won’t snitch.
we’ll keep this surreptitious.
spilling my bloodred guts, my blood,
won’t make me wither,
and confessing won't save me either.
this red ribbon stays tied around my wrist.
secrets kept keep me stable
clinging to my only success,
self-confidence cellophane-wrapped
in my absence, my transparence.
the whispers don’t mean a thing.
i am frantic on a wire frame,
white noise on parade.
the ground can only hold me for so long.
i'll sprout wings from my ribcage
and float away.
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 7:53 PM UTC
The crisp blue moon sparkles your shimmering scales
As you laminate your woes
You carry the satchel of poingnant dreams around your waist
The Moon's light casts the dark shadow you sit in
Immediatley
You plop in the deep bubbly blue
Diving to unkown, unforeseen depths
Sensations of motions
Roll into the thickening emotions
The haze you drown into
Shines your mind
Leaks your spirit
Onto canvas, pens, and strings
Singing with the spirits
Humming to your sirens cue
Intuitively listening - ascending to your higher plane
While descending to heal inner suffering and release unspoken pain
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC
I’m old enough to know but
too young to know better
the state says I’m an adult as of May
but I still don’t know what I want to be
when I grow up,
except for still carrying around my Blankie.
Teddy Bear holds up the pipe to my lips
I can’t do it on my own, I’m not so good at this,
he says breathe deep Baby, I’ve got you.
The fuzz on his face is rough when he kisses the top of my head.
Taj and Tibby walk in holding hands
“Baby!” he smiles and leans down to kiss me
“Hey little one” she says and hugs me tight.
Lauren and Luke come out of their room and
give me big smiles.
Everyone is glad I am home and I exhale
grey smoke because I am glad too.
I am the baby, but I am also the best cook.
While I clang pots in the kitchen my man pours
champagne and turns on the new speakers.
Chicken Piccatta for dinner, because when
you feed people, it’s the best way to tell them
you love them.
The flimsy laminate floors are sticky,
the practically cardboard walls are dusty,
the room like a cave is dark even with the blinds cracked open
but Taj makes us laugh and we dance to the music.
Kitchen table cleared of drug paraphernalia
becomes the flimsy garage-sale/side-of-the-road version
of the dinner table I grew up with.
The people crowded onto its edges
a kind of family.
Feb 17, 2012
Feb 17, 2012 at 12:21 AM UTC
The cold metal door
Squeeaaaks
And swings to the wall
In a thump of agony.
Lever-action. The bolt
Cliiiicks
To the hammer, before the
Brittle door-shavings
Rocket outwards in a
BANG!
Metal shatters like laminate.
In a way, its like
The spirit.
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 4:38 PM UTC
Rattan letter rack stuffed
with hundreds of coupons
like requests to the Gods
sits under shrine
called the spice rack.
Little bottles
as dusty on outside
as within,
have no aroma left.
This temple's kitchen counter
top is mustard asterisks on
ivory laminate, so reminiscent
of ancient wonder.
These late '60's early '70's
design elements, lacquered
over with grease of yesterday's
din-dins, are only indicative
of where the resident wished
to be.
Now, even India, has lost
authentic texture, alluring space
and line, in these Internet times.
Though he can still smell cardamom,
nutmeg, and cinnamon waft from
Southeast. It is stuck in his mind.
Yet, since time of his dearly
departed's passing, no sandalwood
has been burned and he only
eats corn flakes.
America has changed him so.
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 7:38 PM UTC
the people where work goes on,
have their faces strapped to their computers,
while the thumbs have texting down to a science,
gravity
speed of light
a thumb in motion tends to stay a thumb,
the people where the commute takes place,
get bus(ted), and are in the sky train(ing)
for hours every year while others have car(diac)
arrests for texting while driving or is it driving while
testing the limits of the laws of physics and hand eye
coordination a n d d i d y o u s ee a s l o w
down
in
the
reaction ...
................... crash,
the people that live in houses and so many paths
wear out the carpet, wear out the floor, hardwood
or laminate, but their thumbs never wear out,
they just grow new ones or more thumbs,
I saw a movie once recently about the end of the
world, and there were certain people who had no
thumbs,...before the world collapsed I am sure this
became the punishment for texting and operating
a vehicle stupidly.
crossing paths, crossing lives, each has at least one cross
to bear, it is bare, but all these lives, from a look,
from a lighted window, to a parked car, a man walking his dog,
to the person you meet in transit, on foot,
do you see their eyes,
is there pain in diguise?
do you even notice
or is it just another lotus
flower in the swamp
called life
called strife,
news said it was a knife,
cutting the strands attached
to each one of us,
not the fibre we are made of
but the life we weave with
all these fibres weft and warped
make society,
but all these unmarked footsteps,
tire tracks, electonic waves, invisible,
so when you wander,
make sure you wonder,
about all the people
on all these paths
and therefore sonder
in awe, go in peace
©DWE022014
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
Paper, it even sounds cool
Remember Paper Mache at school
Paper is a versatile beast
Paper can be folded and creased
Paper can hold your chips and cod
Paper holds the words of your god
Litmus paper turns a different hue
Paper you use when in the loo
Newspaper to get all your lies
Paper comes in many a disguise
Paper anniversary first year gone
Blank paper ready to write on
Sand paper’s rough but smooths things out
Paper cuts, paper tickets from a tout
Paperless office never to be
Remember paper comes from a tree
Rice paper, sugar paper, paper that’s embossed
Printer paper, blotting paper will absorb the cost
Carbon paper, gold leaf paper, cotton papers too
Origami, baking paper just to name a few
Paper for your love letters, notes to her indoors
Old discarded wallpaper to line your chest of drawers
Paper table cloth and napkins, paper plates and cups
Paper when your computer fails you, just for your back ups
Paper planes, Christmas decs, sticky labels to remind
Envelopes and stamps, paper roller blinds
Wrapping paper for presents, to make someone’s day
Fivers, tens and fifties, to help you pay your way
Paper mills keep turning, magazines and books
Paper muffin cups for bakers and for cooks
Paper bags to shop with, bunting to celebrate
Fancy tissue paper, paper to laminate
Paper for all of mankind, paper pocket diaries
Paper trails and shredders, papers for your enquiries
Paper in the wastepaper bin, paper piles so high
There’s nothing like a piece of paper 1,2 or 3 ply
Oct 18, 2019
Oct 18, 2019 at 5:49 PM UTC
There's a hole in my wall which the wind whistles through
And the wallpaper's mouldy and calamine blue
The carpet besmirched with a decade of grime
And the pattern is lost to a happier time
The journals and books where my memories stay
Have mixed and submerged in a fearful array
The curtains hang tattered in woeful neglect
Where the mildew and fungus and beetles collect
There's a hole in the floor where the mice have a nest
Where the walls creak and groan like a cancerous chest
And a puddle emerges from under the door
Like a serpent, it winds on the laminate floor
Underfoot, fragments of crockery crunch
Still stained with the leavings of long ago lunch
There's a rattle and scratching of verminous claws
The spoon never stirs so the *** never pours
There's a crack in the window that lets in the rain
Where it runs in a rivulet right down the pane
The mattress is rotten and rusted inside
Bacteria thrive and amoeba divide
The ceiling is sagging from waterlogged beams
And catches the sunlight with putrefied gleams
Like powder, the plaster is fast in retreat
With it's choking secretions, the air is replete
There's a trace of a life that was never fulfilled
Like a drink only sipped and then carelessly spilled
There's hope of a future and trinkets amassed
But frittered away and consigned to the past
The wires are old but the bulbs are still new
And pictures of vigor are hanging askew
As if from existence, vitality blinked
A carcass remaining though life is extinct
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 11:10 AM UTC
Fiery free moments
Are coming for me
They took us to London
Then New York City
As clear as the gel pens
You had while you lived in the sticks
Along with Slip'n'Slide
All the boys you played with
Always paid for your tricks
When the bizarre ill-willing troche
Trap men in their snares, and everywhere
it seems everyone's begin to stare.
Into my eyes (As a tug boat and its bride)
My dad's corduroy ties (In the closet upstairs in the basement)
You wouldn't dare, would you? You wouldn't dare
I embraced the tide that took away our guts
our stuff
when enoughs enough
enoughs enough
So carry around your game in handwritten pamphlets
While you delve into the reasons you didn't want them laminated
When I spoke to Commander Owens ("Let's say the town didn't go wild")
But rather you and I I
Left too long perhaps another time
Remember, Remember
Recital time's at noon
The pianists' laminate cut off the last bar and he's starting in 2(2)
The priest asked Justin if he'd come in earlier too
Venomously he cast aside the bride and groom
So we played Slip'n'Slide for the wedding party in our living room
Dancers start on the left then double-back with the left inside
Turn their bodies, dip their hips, restart and double-back to the right
But before the wedding party, she proposed to him with his favorite song
In the San Francisco Airport arrivals, when he turned the stereo on
Parked at curbside pickup laid down and started Slip and Sliding.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 6:26 AM UTC
universe, displace from me
this trauma in the breaking
of my father’s favorite scotch glass
for it is simpler to clear glass shards
from the dishwasher and laminate tile
than ventricular shrapnel from my chest
eyebrows
straight as a net
keep me serving lets
racquet, arm, the ball
is all i don't know
40-love
scoreboard soothsayer
divining the true value
of affectionate devotion
game, set, deuce off the bat
[wrong sport]
my serve is in returning
paper bags brimming
with your belongings
(our volleys never lasted)
game, set, match
[applause]
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 9:21 PM UTC
a story about eye contact
The look in his eyes reminded me of the fall; they pleaded of death with the misty admiration of life.
Slowly intoxicating green veins to shades of orange like a drug, making my spine and my lungs go numb all at once in a single glare.
He turned swiftly and broke my focus. Suddenly the noise of the fast moving crowd and passing trains disappeared in a soft hum. Everything became still, and I escaped into the eyes of a stranger that I felt I had known for a millennium. I held my breath as if something profound were to happen, As if the danty grey of his complexion would suddenly dust off and expose bits of his soul. I sneezed.
Bless you.
“Thanks” I said.
And then we started again. Weighing out moments on our hands waiting for the next break. In a moment, we passed soundlessly through a fresco of laminate dreams silently, coated by a serene sadness and a well-timed sneeze. It felt like hours until my stop would reach on the subway, an eternity with his eyes second by second meeting mine with no expression.
Now arriving at 6th Avenue Station. 6th Avenue Station.
And in the next moment, one of us blinked; the moment passed, and we returned to being complete strangers.
p.m
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
laminate eyes
glossy and mewling
she's a fairweather grappling hook
dug into my collarbone
hearts don't break
they bruise and get better,
yet are never
quite
the same
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 11:32 PM UTC
the copious girls of summer are fair skinned laminate
withs blonds all ********* about their heads the air
or syllables of autumn in distinctly American voices
a swaggering insomniac who is springs ugly sister
but myfingers find her soft decimals and make her make verbs
of quiet ***** a distinct growl of decadent hair marching
from between her hips and about who is circling the
vultures of my hands. resting on her thronging paint
the goldenarch of luscious flesh and she tastes like
apples
and cinnamon
and dead
my little fAll
Oct 11, 2010
Oct 11, 2010 at 5:09 PM UTC
We all saw you on TV. See
we all felt you, on TV.
We effectually react/ or change the channel.
Seeing with, you and I, we seeing
we share science, we know bits
of many common childhood mystery
religion moralizing stories, animating
representative good and evil having beings,
eaters of roots and seeds;
eaters of blood, raw flesh;
eaters of the processed meat, made
from what clams eat, while making pearls
worth the merchant's speculation, see,
look, if this pearl were thine to own, yours
alone. If this pearl were thine, to form
using layering lightflex laminate fluid to form,
smooth curve force to mollify vitious spikes
as one creature soothes the pain caused,
when a certain signal calls for pearling,
biometric symbiotic gnosisnot using
a natural pattern found in viscous,
snottish fluids flowing just above
the bottom line reality, priced per
one man estimated ethos, may
haps, taken and called granted, per
happenstance, standing, there take it,
weigh the worth, at least, it cost you
this much attention, and left
an edge to look over…
take this thought,
taste test, notice salt, hmmm.
-- such taste, sweet
-- such taste sharp, and bitter…
Notice sticky hook to any attention paid
-- remember, re
member reading for all the roles…
This Is Your Life,
unforgiveable forethought odd after effect.
-- taste and see, we all are good, our lies are evil.
Novels in genres, are stories in familiar
feeling places. The realmmmm re-creational
master of monstors degrees, stages, steps,
tic to last held thought, ties to all held thoughts,
- who buys horror and shame hero stories?
- who buys cops are Platonic Guardians stories?
- who buys we, that people, are stories?
Vicarious as the pope,
we feel the ef
in efforting to display the glory of knowing.
- ceasing to effect the art's official form of love,
- sincere affection, effectively applied plasterwise.
Nothing new, sort of classless, drivel, driving assumptives
sorted on commonalities, professional confession,
yes, we guessed you exist, so we said
I do this for money, or
no,
I do this to make pearls, when something in me
is grinding at my gut, make, make, make me,
a pearl none shall ever see,
make me, think.
On earth, as in my own peace of mind, let it be.
Awen. Amen, and all the other translations of make it so.
Dec 15, 2022
Dec 15, 2022 at 2:50 PM UTC
"You are having a bad day." he said,
looking up from my work i noticed
milky, blue eyes seeping- they were shimmering in the shadows,
of his fluffy spider-legged brows,
and secondary to his stupendous
potato nose. lilies. beep.
my heart may have skipped a beat, wondering if
another patron had taken offense
to a dispassionate expression that wore me more than i, it.
he fumbled with a money clip, already withdrawn. large, arthritic, veiny hands. looked down grappling--with ***** bills, smelling of ******* g-strings and *** sweat. was my mouth open, was i staring? baby pinks and stark white, peppered with
gentle,
fuchsia
explosions.
he tossed down a ten and reached in pockets that seemed too low, contorting into a teapot. short and stout. i heard coins mingling together. a discussion among themselves. hushed metallic whispers, pontificate on
the merits of
coin purse over
pocket travel.
here, reemerged a fist, clenched weakly and shaking, he dropped exact change on the ten,
they hesitated in vibration against the laminate counter, and spun on edge in circles.
"some" he said- my stare averting.
..."some" he repeated, only when i'd managed to meet his eyes with again,through an imagined haze of misunderstanding... sweet scent, shivering orange pistils, raining microscopic yellow dust. stargazers. i shifted the change from the counter to my hand.
"are worse
than others."
i delivered him his change in bills, the familiar clink of coins in my drawer somehow deafening. and i couldn't break my curious stare, he turned sharply, flowers wrapped in pink tinted cellophane, which crinkled in a whimper from his grasp.
he limped away, mud on his heels.
back to the cemetery.
Aug 21, 2011
Aug 21, 2011 at 12:51 PM UTC
prolific bending( )you,re an over counter top
upper halfed
and i was tired knees
grousing with the unstable permanence of
weary laminate
with oral benedicting
a plush whip
of crashing plump
breaths
on the alabaster cavalcade of your innerest thigh
i tend the heaving bloom
of thy impossible salt
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 9:59 AM UTC
in the corner
where giant walls join, he stares
at me, or the painting on the sky
of drywall behind me
if my mate spots him, she
will demand martial action
I am to skulk across the laminate field
and use the mighty broom
then, the dustpan
scooping his carcass up
for the grave, beside the cat
in the yard
squirrels, pestiferously perched
on my fence, teeth sharp courtesy of my
redwood trim, will watch
no, I won't listen to my spouse,
and execute an overgrown mouse
I'll let him squeeze through the planks
and go where royal rodents go
still, I may go hunting yet--my prey?
those furry tailed acorn chiselers, who ravage
my redwood with impunity...
(they think)
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 3:07 PM UTC
This morning I was all black daffodils and headless mannequins,
the hours turned into twisted clouds that always look like rain,
this morning I was ripped white duvets, spindle bookcases,
thick laminate book covers stolen from library stacks.
Tonight I am a yawning cat stretch, a heart one beat off,
a tiny jar of salt from leftover tears.
I shoved my face into a towel today, let out one sob and
went about my day.
(I can’t even find the effort to cry.)
Tonight I am a half-deflated balloon, forgotten in the corner of a room,
I am the sun hiding on the other side of the world,
I am a smile just waiting to burst,
I am sore muscle ripped sweatshirt blanket cocoon.
This morning I was an unopened window and tonight I am
blinds hiding the night.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:18 AM UTC
¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯
do hail
thine
-:- inhalation -:-
be
-:- annihilation -:-
frequently
-:-
and
-:- overlook -:-
these
stony heights
o’er waters
swelling
earnestly
-:-
and where
do i
-:- undoubtedly -:-
shorn shy of
-:- serendipity -:-
-:-
do i
among thy
laminae
in
-:- laminate -:-
-:- mahogany -:-
-:-
this
-:- pastel -:-
mem’ry
stain amidst
the tainted
once a
daunting lee
-:-
thine
-:- airy -:-
brethren
shook the limb
dispersing
sap all
on the sea
-:-
and then
love’s leaf the
moribund
descendent
of
-:- adumbral -:-
thee
-:-
-:-
-:-
-:-
-:- see -:-
-:- tumble -:-
-:- t’ward -:-
-:- the -:-
-:- -:- bum’bling -:- -:-
-:- -:- one , the -:- -:-
-:- -:- -:- mummer -:- -:- -:-
of
-:- the -:-
-:- bumble -:-
-:- bee -:-
-:- -:-
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 2:20 PM UTC
Run away child
As the world collapses
Beneath your stumbling gasps
Of ghastly daydreams
With one more chance
To pass the gulf of flight
Just one last glance
At the blinding moon light
While you laminate
Eliminate
Us
Our gleaming fight
Past the purple phase
Pass the green blockade
I will lay there
Laying
Waiting
Fading
Swaying
Pacing
Chasing
You
The beat of hearts
Never seemed possible
And yet, it
Never deemed unstoppable
Don’t you see?
I drown
Into the depths
Of you.
Aug 11, 2010
Aug 11, 2010 at 12:13 AM UTC
Its one of those nights
the sickening ache in my stomach won’t leave
everything is so loud i cannot hear peoples speech,
just the screams of the voices so tightly compact in my head.
They are bottled up inside yearning to get out.
I’ve been thinking too much of you
telling my self to stop saying sorry under my breath.
As if you could hear me.
My hands shake
I dropped the glass of water
it smashes to the kitchen floor
glass and liquid
scattered across the room
my blood smeared across the laminate flooring as i try to clean up my mess.
Nothing ever seems to go right for me
I cannot even keep myself alive
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 3:45 PM UTC
Red
Apple
Smooth and hard
Reflective bite
Crunch and juice and skin
Laminate precision
Firm and new and sweet
Falling harder
Luminous
Revive
Red
Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 10:35 PM UTC