Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Joey McNamara Aug 2010
She says she wants to watch the stars shoot
Drinking liquer and smoking to boot
She's the queen of rock and roll
Sign of life beyond control

Cos she, she, she, she, she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
When the worlds still buzzing
She's still glowing
Cos she, she, she, she she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul

She says she wants to draw a line
Feel it rolling up her spine
She's the queen of comedown
Summer times, she gets the crown

Cos she, she, she, she, she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
When the worlds still buzzing
She's still glowing
Cos she, she, she, she she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul

Take one for smiles, two for happiness
Six for the feeling of ******* emptiness
Credit card lines, do them all the time
Getting it up in a rapid climb

Cos she, she, she, she, she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
When the worlds still buzzing
She's still glowing
Cos she, she, she, she she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul

Middle of the night, her liver gives in
Middle of the night, her room starts to spin
Middle of the night, supplies are getting thin
Middle of the night, crawling under her skin

Cos she, she, she, she, she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
When the worlds still buzzing
She's still glowing
Cos she, she, she, she she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul

She says she wants to watch the stars shoot
Drinking liquer and smoking to boot
She's the queen of rock and roll
Sign of life beyond control

Cos she, she, she, she, she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
When the worlds still buzzing
She's still glowing
Cos she, she, she, she she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
Copyright Joey McNamara 2010
EssEss Aug 2022
When you think of touristy locales, Italy is at the top of the list,
Picking a specific place at random would be wise to desist,
The options are so many that one is spoilt for choice,
But at the end of it all, it is a matter to rejoice

Overlooking the sunny Amalfi Coast, Positano boasts of a picturesque landscape,
Colorful, cliffside villas beckon visitors wanting to experience the "great escape",
The sophisticated resort town is the jewel of southern Italy's iconic Amalfi Coast,
The spectacular setting of this vertical town is so enchanting that it deserves a toast

Positano is just a forty minute ferry ride from neighboring town Sorrento,
The sound of waves crashing against the pebbled shores is sheer gusto,
Not surprising that Positano translated means a "place to stop",
The visual dramatic vertical panorama of colors serves the perfect backdrop

Seen from the sea, Positano projects a stunning color combo that is visually transcendent,
The unmissable green of the Monti Lattari mountain range appears so gloriously resplendent,
The white, pink and yellow of the cascading Mediterranean houses have a vertiginous effect,
The blue of the sea and the silvery grey of the pebble beaches provide the surreal connect

The imposing, colorful majolica-tiled dome of the Church of Santa Maria Assunta is iconic,
A testament to Positano's beauty and history, seeing it's revered architectural work is euphoric,
A Byzantine-inspired icon of the ****** Mary can be seen in the church's interior,
It is popular for exchanging wedding vows, with an impressive belltower on the exterior

Positano's waterfront is the Spiaggia Grande pristine beach whose grandoise is no empty boast,
Spanning in excess of three hundred meters, it is one of the largest in the Amalfi Coast,
Reputed for it's ever crowded sandy shores and a postcard-worthy view that is breathtakingly intense,
As visitors chill out in umbrella-shaded lounge chairs, savoring an unforgettable experience

Access to downtown involves climbing steps, steep winding walkways and narrow streets,
Trendy fashion brands on display in numerous cute clothing boutiques are a visual treat,
Art galleries, souvenir shops and ceramicware shops abound every step of the way,
One cannot but pause and admire the various artisans' intricate works that hold sway

Handmade leather sandals, customized and readily crafted to perfection is an authentic Positano experience,
Rows and rows of designer clothing shops convey local artisans' innovative ways of wielding purchasing influence,
Limoncello liquer made with Amalfi Coast lemons is a Positano specialty that absolutely must be tasted,
That it is the second most popular liquer in Italy (after Campari) and made from neutral alcohol cannot be understated

Amalfi lemons are very sweet, prized for their low acidity and delicate flavor,
Used for making jams, sorbettos, preserves and various desserts to savor,
Campania cuisine have a generous dose of flavoring with Amalfi lemon juice or zest,
Visitors thronging local restaurants are treated to delicacies that are some of the best

Positano's countless romantic restaurants serve a plethora of seafood offerings and local specialties,
Barilotto is an unique cheese that is subtly sweet with creamy and mild flavors, sans any trivialities,
The cheese aromas are delicate, fresh and buttery with a hard, smooth and firm texture offering,
Made from water buffalo's milk by heating the whey & aged for at least forty days, before becoming a serving

The memories of this picturesque town linger long after the visit is done,
As you tick off another scenic Italian locale that has hearts to be won,
Images of the colorful setting (s) remain hard to erase from the mind,
As you set about planning the next adventure, leaving this one behind
Cody Veal May 2013
lunar luminance lights his lucent lordly lair.
leaden legs languish lazily as he lay, laconic--
lexical loquaciousness long lost.
his latent lupine lust lignifies and lengthens,
longing lonesomely for his lovely limber lioness.
with lips of luxurious labial liquer,
and licks lapping like lashing lingual lightning,
liquifying his lavish lover, luscious lyrical lubrication.
Ana Aug 2014
I carry you on my lips, which can’t recover
from the wounds made by the sweet venom
of the taste of yours, when one thing or another
is trying their bond to riven.
But my conscience seem to hover,
in those moments we discover
own banned corner of heaven.

I carry you in my arms, when a pale ray of sun
teases us through the window,
from the whole world, we are remiss
and our joys merged into one.
With your hands around my waist:
a new day has just begun
and life dissolve its liquer of bliss
in my mornin coffee’s taste.
DieingEmbers Nov 2012
God had a plan for man
but the angels messed it up
because one was clumsy
and knocked or' Gods coffee cup
they tried to dry it with their wings
but that just made it worse
smuding all the writing
making the Lord God curse
the diagrams were ruined
the commandments down to ten
and the varied forms he'd thought of
reduced to mere men
All night the angels worked on it
trying to put it right
but somehow it looked quite different
in the early dawning light
Thou shall not eat chocolate
nor adorn they nails with paint
no woman would adhere to these
but only find them quaint
Thou shall not drink beer
or liquer made from fruit
nor will you dance on tables
in just your birthday suit
God read them and went crazy
his beard burst into flames
are you all *******
I like to see **** dames
Ive got such plans for rhinos
but the only horn I plan
is the one ive given freely
to each and every man
Now go away and try again
in fact just go away
except for you dear Lucifer
I'd like for you to stay
tell me again that dream you had
no not the bombs and guns
the one about the **** films
where he takes her up the ..

What is it Jesus
can thou not see I'm busy
you've done what to the water
By Me this stuff is fizzy
a nice side line in fizzy wine
that tastes like ripened fig
the Jews are gonna love you
and in Rome you will be big

** hum it's time to turn it in
The sabbath at last here
and Ozzy wakes the neighbours
if he doesn't get his beer
So angels take a final note
I don't want any wars or death
but the only angel listening
was an angel quite stone deaf
so God got no ****** that night
and the **** just went to waste
till Lucufer and Judas came
as got smashed off their face.
Read one of Maes poems about God having a plan and this is what truely happened to that plan, not blaspheming as my faith is my sword and my shield I'm just having a laugh so no offence to anyone or any faith meant and I apologise in advance for any caused ... Embers
brandon nagley May 2015
Title-out of place- by meself.   A boor I am to peasantry's sultry disgrace, cargo to be tended, I subsist unamended, how childish I play these games. Liquer buds, saltine love crumbles beneathe day room lock-outs! Eyes stare ablazed, the hued sunset repeadily turns masterpiece of horrid honeymoons idealistic and realistic to discussions seeming strange. Partial bodies secrete the grassed out hills, morning calling awaits.,,,,,
DieingEmbers Apr 2013
Can you not see I'm dying

no blade
no bullet
no poison down my gullet

no rope
no river
no liquer in my liver

no pills
no pillow
no stakes of sharpened willow

but I'm dying all the same...

dying

to be with you again



my love.
brandon nagley May 2015
Title-out of place- by meself.   A boor I am to peasantry's sultry disgrace, cargo to be tended, I subsist unamended, how childish I play these games.
Liquer buds, saltine love crumbles beneathe day room lock-outs! Eyes stare ablazed, the hued sunset repeadily turns masterpiece of horrid honeymoons idealistic and realistic to discussions seeming strange.
Partial bodies secrete the grassed out hills, morning calling awaits.,,,,,
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2021
i'm not someone who's all too willing to regurgitate
maxims...
it's quiet impossible to have to
vouch for so many observational (not objective,
really) truths...
   after all... the height of the maxim came
with (not Nietzsche) - came with
                       la Rochefoucauld...
                - chance and caprice rule the world
   - we are lazier in mind than (in) body...
to pick but a pair...
a western emphasis for all things
    a posteriori...
              to circumstance oneself in a stance:
akimbo...
or at least akin to Pontius Pilate having
nothing to do with the drilling in of mea culpa:
even for him... something about a lottery
of time and an inescapable round of chores...
that some things are certain is enough
to give a day one's privacy...
but everything else: so agitated and in the tier
of meaningful encounters...
always the "matter"...

unlike those ?? maxims -
which mostly dictate things with an a priori
tinge of "sentiment"...
a verb pure suppose: no prior encounter
like that one that i kept and figured:
keep the sponge of a brain suckling up to it:

the only way to aid the world
is to forget the world
and for the world to forget you -

                crazy for that chance: anon. as
being credited to me, though...
   there's another maxim, though,
i must ascribe it to Socrates because it's most
befitting...

some people live to eat...
others... eat to live...

that's a real conundrum for me...
well... why wouldn't it be?
     if i were to take into account something
archaic as the Pythagorean diet schematic...

god-like eating: vegetables,
                     spices, cereals, dry food...
although some distinctions
if eating meat pork > goat > offal >
mutton > beef...
spices are the extreme to beans
(although... a diet without fibre...
and "we" know that beans
are high in protein)
            dry food: well between
burnt offerings and something rotten...

i was surprised... given the status
of pork to the pagans...
then again: it's the most pristine creature
as it's wholly edible...
beside the oink and the hoofs...
and ol' porkies wouldn't survive in
a desert to begin with...
so i don't understand allah's "beef" with
this pristine creature...
child's play of talk...
      no mention of eating crab meat:
scavenger meat... yet most pristine...

yes... but it's a return from my little
hiatus in katakana, hiragana & hangul...
i'm tired of this custard brain splodge
of curating these symbols
of syllable encoding...

back to the atoms of Latin script...
that these letters are as they are...
mostly because
of the Greek eye...
imitation: the latin script doesn't
have names for its letters...
sing-along stipends (etc.)
no clearly defining A a a(lpha)
which denotes a name and a cipher
like a(lpha) male etc.

a "quicker" root: conserved time...
Hebrew, Phoenician, Greek, Latin...
chicken scratching later...
hopes to elevated to pelican... somewhat...

but still the maxim:
some people live to eat
while others eat to live...
it is a double-edged sword...
i can spot the obvious:
when and where people eat
to survive...
it's more important to eat...
than not to:
how this maxim deciphers fussy-eaters
among the Mandarin omnivores...
well...

but then there's also this attention
to detail surrounding:
some people live to eat:
so they will treat their food with
knowledge and tenderness...
that will make eating a pleasure...
who here might quest to make
the antonym of eating a pleasure...
a spell of diarrhoea, for example?
unless of course bombarded
with **** *** imagery:
one would have to quest to find pleasure
in easing out a loaf:
best in one piece...
  than have to imagine the same...
being reversed back into
one's "glory hole" with a pump action
of agitated vibrations...

and there i was thinking about
being in the possession
of a strap-on phallus made from
ice...
some people live to eat
whole others eat to live...

i thought it less to be in the category
of people who live to eat:
then i gave it some "thought"
and figured out...
the people that eat to live
are the ones that will not prepare
their own food...
oddly enough...

i too thought it was a sustenance
statement...
but given that ******* out
is hardly pleasurable...
chewing is hardly too...
digestion can put you to sleep...
preparation of food is most associated
with the sentiment: some live to eat...
it's not a statement of gluttony...

what's the best easy breakfast i could
think of, sparingly... today...
with revision?
when frying an egg
letting it fry just shy of completely
while dressing it with a slice
of chorizo and finishing it off
with a slice of cheese...
placing it on a toast...

   that i eat to live: well i'm not starving...
animals eat to live...
which is why they don't cook their food...
they eat it raw...
and some people have become
wild animal esque...
in the fast food joints...
lazily being... some people are fed...
to take care for what's to be eaten...
i love this maxim because
it's not so ****** obvious
as to why: some people live to eat...
that there's a concern for what is eaten...
you can't exactly expect yourself
to find substance in tree bark
and grass...

to eat to live is out of desperation...
to live to eat comes from
something more aesthetic than...
       previously thought...
not to the extent of treating food as some
Cezanne - humble origins more, please...
rustic - yes... that's another word for it!

i came across this thought as i came across
a memory of her...
it's a real shame... really...
i was so young then...
she was so young then...
i was 21 she was 19...
   a weird year where i suddenly had
attention of a few girls...
but this one in particular...
what sort of girl proposes to a guy
and choses an engagement ring...
the sort of girl that subsequently
gives it back...
because - well where's Edinburgh
and where's London...
but it's not like she would go down south
with me... she went all the way west
with a previous boyfriend...
from Novosibirsk to St. Petersburg...
then again prior bf had a daddy well
situated and i'm still equivalent
to being a carpenter's son...
  
     out of no less... when the heliocentric
revolution happened...
and geocentric us-and-us-alone
and wish the gods real...
the gynocentrism prevailed as did...
           hypergamy -
                       it's no shock it's nothing new
it's like there was no Copernican
adventure to begin with...
since... everything on earth stayed:
pretty much the same...
now there are only about 3 million
a posteriori walking abortions that
could have taken place
but since... the argument came from:
use... the ****** had to be...
used... and there was all the free time...
and everyone else was doing it...
but not these sons are placebo solipsists
and they have to sort of:
give back the existential tax
of having a life on loan...

            hello... world...
but god the *** was good...
   the most thrill from the memory was...
eating her out like i might
divulge - burrow my face in
greasy beef... i would like a comparison
with oysters or... eating flowers...
but that was the best part...
oral *** and a little ******* sgt. pepper
of the index middle and thumb
working with my thumb to grease
myself up before the whole hallelujah
of the genitals in symphony...

i've been to several brothels and
about a dozen ****** and...
well... well...
                 it's not the same when
one of you is faking payment
and the payment is not as clear
as literally for an hour...
she stayed in my flat rent free...
etc.

          my youth... and she...
oh... plus the chance conversation about
liking Milan Kundera's
the unbearable likeness of being...
although i doubt she read it...
she was most concerned with swans...
i remembered swans from the film adaptation
more than from the book...
then again: memory is a fickle creature...
even now as i'm enjoying
this little cameo project of existentialism
(i.e. memory) -
well... i don't exactly have a choice
in what i can and cannot remember...
beside the anti-dyslexic / numeral-savvy
2 + 2 and a + b + s + o + l + u + t + e...

when she broke up with me
she had this way of insinuating i'd miss
the *** with: when we had ***
and listened to music
the dandy warhols' good morning:
play it when you're missing the "****"...
sure as ****
when i think about eating chicken
meat off the bone...
esp. at the tenderness of the chicken
neck with all the intricacies
of suckling and "plucking"...
i do think about...
a fleshy fruit that i cannot nibble...
or eat...

well that was me zenith of ****** endeavours:
i must adored the heart
of the **** i was eating out
since her onomatopoeia of sorts
is still ringing in my ear:
along with her face in cubist contortions:
i still haven't found relief in
having been pleasured:
some variation of an agony of a martyr
having given pleasure:

not state-holding of a saint's repertoire...
but as i now look it...
a life of restraint:
beside the prostitutes and the brothels:
hell... even the Teutonic Knights
had a brothel in their citadel...
if only i were as willing as
to give my heart up...
to weave in
     a sacrament of giving her a pink
rose... no...
i didn't come across something
just as good:
and this "just as good" is too firmly
lodged in my memory-cinema
for me to blink away from it...
i count myself lucky...
how pristine it all was...

a good shaking of the bag
and out popped out a ****'s depth
enough of wriggling for me
to not appeal to some
*****-envy buckle... after that i grew
a beard and forgot to want to play
the fiddle...
but it was a must, something necessary...
me writing about it now, a decade later
might appear as a vanity project...
then again: i wasn't as busy...
she took off and became
"devoted" twice...
the 2nd time a failure the third i'm still
praying for the poor buck to not
buckle...
i mean: she can boast that she drove
one boy mad...
but what a strange man he came out
to be...
a half-baked loaf of bread: with
teeth for a crust...

summa summarum: it was worth it...
i was ruining my time
in bed, of late...
i came across a ref. to the Noyades...
which was of "concern" for me...
but i also came across an entry: GENUG

the last words spoken...
by certain people of "concern"...
kant (genug) - enough...
              agrippina (nero's mother) -
smite my womb...
thomas hobbes - a great leap in the dark;

if i were the latter i'd also like
to reiterate: into the dark...
unless it be the already sentencing of:
a dark of night...
i find nothing universal in the day
but at least by night
i would simply imply:
beside the darkening mechanisation
of life by toil of body
and the fickleness of mind...
ah... pedantry and chastisement
of self-
(yes... prefixing attachment ready)
for whatever requires
automation and scythe...
and rude workings of
   a digestive system...

besides... there's an easier demand
of argument to be met:
some people live to ****...
others **** to live...
i never liked the Anglophonic line
or argumentation from existentialism:
for the masses from within Darwinism
solves all little interludes...
how it's necessary to equate everything
with squared root of ape...

it can't be this whole narrative...
even the ancient pagan had knowledge
of: **** similis...
i'm still searching for this...
vanguard hope of **** sapiens...
i'm yet to find one...
esp. one with strict etymological
obligations that can distinguish
a word like Slav from Slave...
a Germ from..          -an...
mute from niemy... chwek... etc.

this narrative though: concerning genes:
genes are blind like atoms of sodium are
unless pushed out
from extremes of hereditary cul de sacs
of non-replica...
lineage of cancerous-growth-prone-examples...
etc.
but why oh why...
have this baggage of concerns...
these atomic-attachments:
this hiding of hearth...
it's not predicate of genius...
vain hope bound to horoscopic tension
to spit out a desirable temperament
of a man?

character is all Lego...
crafted from both an a priori and an a posteriori
and an a- priori and: summa posteriori
litany of shelved secrecies...
(a-? without)

each time i return to this little scrap:
this little memory of her...
i also return to myself...
what an idealistic ****-lord
of presence i was...
i was the sort of guy that could buy
a girl oysters for a single date...
well... given the "nature" of life...
the "narrative"...

i will relinquish my fascination with
the eastern arts...
the katakana, the hiragana, the hangul...
when someone teases me
wrong... as i show them...

the cedilla in C and the greek
sigma
  i.e. ç
         i.e. there are many sigmas...
there are... satires...
    there are... all opera is tragedy...
there are loan-words! even in english!
sights to see
  si(gh)t?... ******* surds...
   (g)nome... diaGnostic...
                  (k)night... night, nought...
GH & proud...
   it's almost my...
  meine besitzen zunge, das ich liebe
     so viel...

watch the zeppelins rain down blitzkrieg
in slow-motion while
the Danube rummages with
flow vs. tide... and Birmingham is
without tide... and everything else
is everything else with a spare
tire of metaphor...

- some people eat to live...
while other live to eat...
            i much prefer to cook my own food...
i take pride in owning an arsenal
of spices...
along with a black cardamom
that's the equivalent of a
Laphroaig glug...
  since mead: was yet to be
a drank mythological concern for truths...

oh this little vanity project that it
is... when i loved...
when i was in love...
  when i wasn't this beastly secured
in things that would either blush
or frown at things upkept
in the cosmopolitan lineage
of affairs...
  "conversation":
  that it was Paris and me and
these two Catelonian girls went
to the grave of "desperate Michael"...
well, no... who was it...
it wasn't Bill Murray...
the doors' frontman...

        such a revealing proximity
of: my given names i most associate
with...
   konrad von wallenrode...
konrad of masovia...
  mateusz: tax-collector...
       40 ******* months
itching before what remained
Giza... and that's before the dwarf
Napoleon shifted rules of rank...

it was a great ****...
i still love the idea we didn't become
so bored as to be bored
with orthodoxy that we might
have to delve into
****... *** toys...
or... i would love to have
donned a latex gimp... open mouth...
hell... all that gwory hole-ing a limited
status of halo...
i retracted my ambitions...
didn't... i?

i didn't find replacements...
physicality strict-dentures of: failure count?
i made my metaphysical investment?
didn't i...

two weeks without walking...
chant des templiers...
i "thought" myself more a Hospitalier(s)
son in bud...
salve regina...
two weeks without walking
i "decide" to write...
it's not enough:
memory
overcomes me...

the best **** i've had and it's not
something i want
to remember for a *******...
mind you i found alternatives...
donning my hair long enough
and a new found riddle in
a beard...
and a Turk that dealt in
Caucasian memorabilia..
of living extensions...
               you see...
a visit to the barber with overgrown
bush...
of hair and stubble...
became more frankly... pleasurable...
than... what was to be done
with...

         that statue by
            apollonius of athens...
i ****** off to Bronzino's
   venus, cupid, folly & time:
beside the cupping of the breast
the teasing tenderness of the ******
prone tongues...
all ***** on silent mode...
or at least only gesticulating
at marble statues in the process
of being erected:
without promise of a public
ordeal to overthrow (the publics)
Punic details of slou... slow...
slouch... and brittle... karma: wood...

toward an excruciation of justified
meaning: this arrangement of lettering:
how feeble and toothpick prone
this brittle groove & ground...
my harvest of dislodged ease...
sensibly: antithesis grammatical pseudo...
sssssssssssss
side-winding... slithering...
side-accost...
***-seer-Saracen...

          becau­se of some pope
with a name like Urban...
              a finicky genesis...
             from memory
a white serpent of light
   in a crest of illuminate azure
giving border upon the Firth of Forth...
when two creasing crows
staged themselves
on the pinnacle of the Old College,
Edinburgh...
the nights were aflame with
youth...
the nights were... gott-gegeben...

miraculous? no!
    just aided by a stealth variation
and with life...
this mediocre surmounted...

pointer: when is... "it", i.e.:
enough is enough vs.
enough is "it"?
  i'm hardly poignancy prone
to state the difference, proper...
i've levitated toward slouch
for a week or so...
i find not pleasure in writing:
not as much as i arrived at
finding it, once more:
in walking...
boyo... you should have seen
me gear up to a bicycle...

         god what time it was to be gladly
*******!
to be so Darwinistically excated
with purpose!
but also so blind... so unhappy!
no wonder i had to fathom
a retraction: this everyday
into day-by-day...
und grey-labour & tedium &
"good"...
        
but it wasn't a waisting
of a "crown"...
i didn't live up to the expectations of:
the greatest ***** that ever
"lived"...
i wouldn't have...
lived to spar with agony aunt
commentary...
i would be the least believed *******
child of variation of
a prosthetic progeny of "sowing":
all gladly encountered metaphors...
some as ugly as necessarily ugly to breed...
most high i.q. is bred out
and is left to individualistic chancing
of revision...

then again: there's no revision...
the one who i lost my virginity with...
i "tried" to get in touch with her...
5 loads in the basin later...
she's an insomniac of reproduction...
of course she was all defensive...
when i asked her why she was so sad:
five daughters: no son...
she put it down on exhausted from...
she didn't notice i was making
a henry VIII remark...

i can't and therefore will not wish it upon
myself:
merry me: marry me i too were
that father when je suis and hey zeus
asked upon the crucifix dangling:
father...
yes... perpetual bachelor, i...
entombed existentially: no escapee
planning: processed...
            
      alles ist gott: und nothing too...
  my words: before i die...
i'm sure i'll be drunk as a saber
with blood not spilt...
as heavily worked
as a currency of horse
currently on display in the fields
where i walk...
ditto grazing and ditto:
  grass-heaping chewing-heave
          anecdotal.

before the "prized ******* bull" &
entourage of fizzing waters started to throttle
any further mentioning of
libido limbo:
        that's the scarcity of my
****** ambitions...
   mind you: i'm glad i suckled on that
wet oyster pouch before
i was sent back to the "gulag"
of skeleton teasing an imitation hollow...
before the kama sutra provision
***** envy might have taken over...

very impossibly: it's a conundrum
of reiteration of sort
that's not worth more erosion
of memory since it doesn't rhyme...
i wouldn't have lived
enough of the already given
"this" if i haven't thought about "that"...

today i found some compensation
for years drilling ego into abstract
and smiling at nothing
and all things / manners of ape:
everclear's debute e.p.
        marylin manson's holywood...

i still want that king crimson debut
vinyl to adorn my loan space
of a room of a life...
because i have to hide all that jazzy *******
on the side...

stone temple pilots -
that album with the song: art school girlfriend...
anything more -esque to capture
the sentiments of pulp and that
other song: wickerman...
for d'ah bass...

   impossibly delightful to heave
a wounding of a lung with
a morning's daily brief of
harking up excess phlegm
stuck to the wall...
how there's a heart and i call it
a sparrow and how it flusters
and flutter with a difficulty
when i've presented it with
a caging like so...

             Baltic sushi: which involves...
primarily... soaked herring in
spirit vinegar...
with mustard seeds...
bay leaf... allspice... onions & garlic...
tender... fish meat...
curated by curing
by acid alone rather than heat...
evil in the beans: perhaps too much
"roughage" / fibre...
but a constipation of world renown
for 3 days solid...

because of the full-english-fry-up...
which makes you wonder
how it can be served thrice
in a day
if one's lazy about "details":
the same quote revised...
some people live to eat...
while other eat to live...

it's not a statement of gluttony...
it's... some people will eat anything...
while others will tend to curate
what they eat to make
expensive remarks on what's
allowed to expand and what has to...
inevitably... shrink into non alias
null alias nil alias shrugging feline...
bothersome quick-essential...
practice of dangling a kite...
toward (rather than against) the wind...

GLAYVA - a liquer...
          ****... a... liqueur - a L'CUR
   a lee cwuer...
         velsh?!
               simply *******...
          a li'kwer... ditto ditto this that
and anything in between...
i'm rehashing a fancy for sleeping
with a foreign body in the same
bed i leave open to satire: tomb...
begins with cat...
given all my whimsical demands
and idiosyncratic scrutiny+plural..
highten-ed
                what first was a believable
oyster gorge and...
floral patterns agitated:
pound upon pound of flesh...

no... impossible...
some people live to eat
while other eat to live:
statement of not so desperate times...
perhaps...
if necessary i might nibble on
some grasshoppers...
or any insects fried...
but the statement alludes
to... some people will eat anything...
it's not a statement of / for gluttonous
mishandling of...
some people live to eat:
nutritionists...
the statement is clearly abstract towing
so it expand with each reitertion
as any maxim given enough
mantra status...

said true: but prior to...
blindly-being-followed...
it can revise itself...

        rekindle: ashes and all manners of
said... truant...
         bigger no  bigger than
a hyphen interjection within
the confines of conjunction:
Big-Giza... troublesome 1st and omega
sentencing... echoes of melancholy
in a rush to satiate
forests turning into bureaucratic
pyre structures...

      these burning effigies of time
best wasted... off what was readily available:
scrutiny at best:
all that surfaced was to heave...
an amalgamation of prods, touching,
prodding... juxtaposing junctions...
hinterland of diacritical marker demands...
something "Ukrainian"...

something Moldova-esque... old haunts
older grievances...
newly arrived at carpets with
them being cleaned...
a grandfather most impressionable:
death so last random
that it could only have leverage
with(in) the cofines of
a stomach confined to:
squid ink squirt...

misunderstood lyrics...
slipknot's eyeless...
               i heard...
   you can't see California without
Marlon Brando's eyes...
you can't see California without
Marlon Brando's eyes...
you can't see California without
Marlon Brando's eyes...
you can't see California without
Marlon Brando's eyes...

i'm pretty sure that's not Tsar: i.e.
"it"... yeah... that one...
bothersome brother at the till
of a brothel... less chasing chequers
at the hyper-inflated curiosity of need
of a supermarket...
till... cashier... sooner me dead there
with a death prior...
how ignited in the case:
most futile...
not ignited by some plumber credentials
etc.
stash of leftovers...
basin of sudokus...
              crazing over scalp shaves
rite of bone...
"my" kindred... touch-tease a halving of
bone of Iowa...
riddle this scuttle of nuance...

this leftover cold sure: beef
i heaved for a closure for:
the innocent expanse for furthering of "love":
what was made edible..
what was kept indigestible...
this riddle of words...
              these words half kept
as w(h)iddle...
    beg....       big...      Giz'ah...
sigh of relief or give one's purpose...
vowel-catching... within the confines
of sighs... otherwise
the exclamation markings...
letter to the "bone"...
                   hardly anything of note
ex the Iberian peninsula...
a Hebrew would know...

       thank you gimp suited &
boot licking worth maggot spew....
i have outlived my purpose of riddle...
i'm hardly going to appease
the throng of "doubt"
when it comes to clinging to something
"bilateral":
queasy without dizzy...

what's that?
qu-easy
  vs. -izzy..
                        forget it...
letters like lumberjack praise of
pork,,
something to market: sizzle...
gimp suits and all things best kept
tinged with... bride... horror...
my bride.., not some angry african
who-man'ood...
   conservative little hooded
monsters prior to the Levant practice of
the snippet...
skin left so bare...
the eagerly waiting *****
of whitey...
angry baking half angry "noir"..
the women the challenge...

i pretend to dance before mirrors...
my elongation of the hand
looks more like a crab
than what i want it to depict:
i.e. a spider...
the 2oth century is a house
of haunting:
it's not a circa... esp. one might
wish to be born in...

that there was ever an "expectation"
and it allowed itself
a summary... with excuses...
if we are all...
pointing & turning...
the Polacks were not given... TS...
Sara Jones Aug 2015
She never was the same
After they took her liquer away
Marika Jul 2017
Her lips were red wine
And when their fingers intertwine
He sees her eyes are liquer
Her hair is golden beer
Her voice is smooth as *****
Sober pain will disappear
He got drunk on her
Rosy Rosè cheeks
Didn't dare to spare
A drop of her burning spirits
He was hungover on love
And she made him stay intoxicated
He was an alcoholic
And she was his choice of tonic
Jay earnest Sep 2023
The little man with the blue shirt
Drinks jars of fermented **** of which he purchases online for $179
Dollars

The procured **** is sourced from the bladders of Hispanic
Gypsy kawaii Core only fans models

His only love is derived
From the stenchy
Liquer
It has notes of lavender &
Hot mustard

God is dead , but the little man
With a blue shirt
     retracts his trigger & smiles
Unmolested

— The End —