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i dreamed a rattlesnake was loose in the closet i heard it rattling i was afraid to open the door



a man suffering a toothache goes to see his dentist the dentist administers laughing gas when the man comes to his numb tongue swooshes around his mouth he asks how long was i under the dentist answers hours i needed to pull them all out



he imagines when he grows old there will be a pencil grown into one hand and a paintbrush grown into the other they will look like extra fingers grown out from the palms extensions of his personal evolution little children will be horrified when they see mommy mommy look at that man’s hands!



what if we are each presented with a complete picture of a puzzle from the very start then as our lives proceed the pieces begin showing up out of context sometimes recognizable other times a mystery some people are smarter more intuitive than others and are able to piece together the bigger picture some people never figure it out



i wasn’t thinking i didn’t know to think nobody taught me to think maybe my teachers tried but i didn’t get it i wasn’t thinking i was running reacting doing whatever i needed to survive when you’re trying to survive you move fast by instinct you don’t think you just act



many children are relieved when their parents die then they no longer need to explain prove themselves live up to their parent’s expectations yet all children need parents to approve foster mentor teach love



she was missing especially when her children needed her most she was busy lunching with girlfriends dinner dates beauty shop manicure masseuse appointments shopping seamstress fittings constant telephone gossiping criticizing she was too busy to notice she was missing more than anything she wanted to party show off her beauty to be the adored one the hostess with the mostest



i dreamed i was condemned to die by guillotine the executioner wore black and wielded an axe just in case the device failed in the dream the guillotine sliced shallow then the executioner went to work but he kept chopping unsuccessfully severing my head this went on for a long time



1954 Max Schwartzpilgrim sits at table in coffee shop on 5th floor of Maller’s Building elevated train loudly passes as he glances out window it is typical gloomy gray Chicago day he worries how he will find the money to pay off all his mounting debts he is over his head in debit thinks about taking out a hefty life insurance policy then cleverly killing himself but he cherishes his lovely wife Jenny his young children and social life sitting across table Ernie Cohen cracks crass joke Max laughs politely yet is in no mood to encourage his fingers work nervously mutely drumming on Formica table then stubbing out cigarette in glass ashtray lighting another with gold Dunhill lighter bitter tastes of coffee and cigarettes turns his stomach sour he raises his hand calling over Millie the waitress he flirtatiously smiles orders bowl of matzo ball soup with extra matzo ball Ernie says you can’t have enough big ***** for this world Max thinks about his son Odysseus



when Odysseus is very young Dad occasionally brings him to Schwartzpilgrim’s Jewelers Store on Saturday mornings Dad shows off his firstborn son like a prize possession lifting Odysseus in the air Dad takes him to golf range golf is not an interest for Odysseus Dad pushes him to learn proper swing Odysseus fumbles golf club and ***** he loves going anyway because he appreciates spending time with Dad once Dad and Odysseus take shower together Dad is so life-size muscular hairy Odysseus is so little Dad reaches touches Odysseus’s ******* feeling lone ******* Dad says we’ll correct that make it right Odysseus does not understand what Dad is talking about at finish Dad turns up cold water and shields Odysseus with his body he watches Dad dressing in mornings Dad is persnickety to last details of French cuff links silk handkerchief in breast pocket even Dad’s fingernails toenails are manicured buffed shiny clear



Odysseus’s left ******* does not descend into his ******* the adults in extended family routinely want to inspect the abnormality Mom shows them sometimes Dad grows agitated and leaves room it is embarrassing for Odysseus Daddy Lou’s brother Uncle Maury wants to check it out too often like he thinks he is a doctor Uncle Maury is an optometrist the pediatrician theorizes the tangled ******* is possibly the result of a hormone fertility drug Mom took to get pregnant the doctor injects Odysseus with a hormone shot then prescribes several medications to induce the ****** to drop nothing works eventually an inguinal hernia is diagnosed around the age of 9 Odysseus is operated on for a hernia and the ******* surgically moved down into his ******* the doctor says ******* is dead warning of propensity to cancer later in life his left ball is smaller than his right but it is more sensitive and needy he does not understand what the doctor means by “dead” Odysseus fears he will be made fun of he is self-conscious in locker room he does not comprehend for the rest of his life he will carry a diminutive *****



spokin alloud by readar in caulkknee axescent ello we’re Biggie an Smally tha 2 testicles whoooh liv in tha ******* of this felloh Odys Biggie is the soyze of a elthy chicken aegg and Smally is the size of a modest Bing cheery



one breast ****** points northeast the other smaller breast ****** points southwest she is frightened to reveal them to any man frightened to be exposed in woman’s locker room she is the most beautiful girl/woman he will ever know



Bayli Moutray is French/Irish 5’8” lean elongated with bowed legs knobby knees runner’s calves slim hips boy’s shoulders sleepy blue eyes light brown hair a barely discernable freckled birthmark on back of neck and small unequal ******* with puffy ******* pointing in different directions Laura an ex-girlfriend of Odysseus’s describes Bayli’s appearance as “a gangly bird screeching to be fed” Laura can be mean Odysseus thinks Bayli is the coolest girl in the world he is genuinely in love with her they have been sleeping together for nearly a year it is March 11 1974 Bayli’s birthday she turns 22 today Bayli is away with her family in Southeast Asia Odysseus understands what a great opportunity this is for her to learn about another culture he knows Bayli plans to meet up again with him in late summer or autumn in Chicago Dad wants Odysseus to follow in his footsteps and become a successful jewelry salesman he offers Odysseus a well-paying job driving leased Camaro across the Midwest servicing Dad’s established costume jewelry accounts Odysseus reasons it is a chance to squirrel away some cash until Bayli returns it is lonely on the road and awkward adjustment to be back in Chicago Odysseus made other plans after graduating from Hartford Art School he is going to be an important painter after numerous months and many Midwestern cities he begins to feel depressed he questions how Bayli can stay away for so long when he needs her so bad the Moutray’s send Mom and Dad a gift of elegant pewter candleholders made in Indonesia Mom accustomed to silver and gold excludes pewter to be put on display she instructs Teresa to place the candleholders away in a cabinet Mom also neglects to write a thank you note which is quite out of character for Mom Bayli’s father is a Navy Captain in the Pacific he is summoned to Norfolk Naval Station in Virginia the Moutray’s flight has a stopover in Chicago Bayli writes her parents want to meet Odysseus and his family Odysseus asks Dad to arrange his traveling itinerary around the Moutray’s visit Dad schedules Odysseus to service the Detroit and Michigan territory against Odysseus’s pleas Odysseus is living with his sister Penelope on Briar Street it is the only address Bayli’s parents know Odysseus has no way to reach them when the Moutray’s arrive at the door Penelope does not know what to tell them Mom and Dad are not interested in meeting Bayli’s parents it is not the first sign of dissatisfaction or disinterest Mom and Dad convey regarding Bayli Odysseus does not understand why his parents do not like her is it because Bayli is not Jewish is that the sole reason Mom and Dad do not approve of her Odysseus believes he needs his parent’s support he knows he is not like them and will likely never adopt their standards yet he values their consent they are his parents and he honors Mom and Dad let’s take a step back for a moment to get a different perspective a more serious matter is Odysseus’s financial dependency on his parents does a commitment to Bayli threaten the sheltered world his parent’s provide him is it merely money binding him to them why else is he so powerless to his parent’s control outwardly he appears a wild child yet inwardly he is somewhat timid is he cowardly is he unsure of Bayli’s strength and sustainability is that why he let’s Bayli go whatever the reason Dad’s and Mom’s pressure and influence are strong enough to sway his judgment he goes along with their authority losing Bayli is the greatest mistake of Odysseus’s life



he dreams Bayli and he are at a Bob Dylan concert they are hidden in the back of the theater in a dark hall they can hear the band playing Dylan’s voice singing and the echoes of the mesmerized audience Odysseus is ******* Bayli’s body against a wall she is quietly moaning his hand is inside her jeans feeling her wetness rubbing fingers between her legs after the show they hang around an empty lot filled with broken bottles loose bricks they run into Dylan all 3 are laughing and dancing down the sidewalk Dylan is incredibly playful and engaging he says he needs to run an errand not wanting to leave his company Odysseus and Bayli follow along they arrive at an old hospital building it is dark and dingy inside there is a large room filled with medical beds and water tanks housing unspeakably disfigured people swarming intravenous tubes attach the patients to oxygen equipment feed bags and monitoring machines Dylan moves between each victim like a compassionate ambassador Odysseus is freaking out the infirmary is too horrible to imagine he shields his eyes wanders away losing Bayli searching running frantically for a way out he wakes shivering and sweating the pillow is wet sheets twisted he gets up from the bed stares out window into the dark night he wonders where he lost Bayli



these winds of change let them come sailor home from sea hunter home from hill he who can create the worst terror is the greatest warrior
Mary McCray Apr 2013
She was kneading the crevice
under my left shoulder blade with a forefinger
which had a tremor when she pushed hard
or “did anything with intention.”
Said it was only her right finger, a family trait,
(honestly, not an ineffectively way to argue
with a muscle).

I could hear the voice of an old man on a table
behind the curtain. His relaxation was a confession,
(maybe the knee **** response to premeditated touch),
and I was like the otherwise engaged
priest. There was a surgery
and he was eight years addicted to pain
pills. One-hundred days sober now,
getting self care, (as Oprah would say),
he was enjoying his wife’s cooking again,
looking forward to some ice fishing
out at Eagle’s Nest, (something
he hadn’t done for 10 years).

“The canyon bowl is so quiet,” he said.
“Even if you don’t catch any fish,
you'd be content to sit there all day.”
“It’s Zen-like,” he said, “the ice caps
surrounding you, the elk and the coy-oats
frolicking out there on the ice.”
(Not with each other I presume.)
The old man’s masseuse
was a young man who never said a word
except, “Is the pressure too much?”

“It’s not like I have respect,”
the old man on the table continued,
“for those who get addicted to illicit drugs.
But now I have a great respect for the pain
they go through.” His masseuse and my masseuse
went on kneading.
“At least I have a life to go back to.”
Doing this week's workshop class assignment: a lyric narrative. This is a completely found poem, overheard verbatim while I was getting a massage last week.
Styles Jan 2023
Barefoot as she'd left her sandals on the beach. Her tight sundress barely concealed the sight of her *******, her smooth flat stomach, and tight ***. As her skin glowed under the moonlight, She looked so alive, so ****, and so ready. Her short hair danced in the wind. Her dress shimmered in the breeze as if it was silk dancing in the sky. He moved down her body, with my eyes, like the hands of a skilled masseuse touching every inch of her existence.  His gaze wrapped around her like a belt, holding his attention.
let me know in the comments if you want a part 2
svdgrl Dec 2014
Even amongst purple walls
adorned in maudlin posters and prints,
drawings and postcards of exhibitions,
I see your glint in the corner of my room.
Inactive grey body with a head of rubber,
waiting to be powerfully silver,
but innocent, you persist.
You tell me my back is sore again-
and all you wish to do is relieve it.
Persistent innocence.
I'm working on a final essay, and you are knocking,
at my limbs and everywhere but where you want to
really go.
Innocence, you persist.
Dark and threaded to the outlet, you are ready
to apply the pressure needed for tension release.
Mocking, teasing, tempting.
That essay isn't going to do itself,
but I know someone who will.

Writing this ode,
is my act of rebellion against you,
but you know I long for the shaking
the rapture,
the center of my pleasure
encapsulated in your interchangeable
concentration.
But I have to unplug you.
Life is too impatient.
abecedarian Jul 2018
~explaining light to the blind~


~for Suzy~

the insanity of even attempting

who among us, the sighted,
has the capability to clarify
an animate inanimate,
an untouchable invisible,
that can be folded, bent,
travel universes unseen
at its own chosen speed,
even to another sighted

and to the blind...

imagine then light
as something that
be recognized from the inside only with
in- sight

~think of the continuum from
warmth to steel furnaced heat,
that is an element of what is light,
the sun cheek kissing, the furnace of chests
when you grasp another’s body first time

think of light as water,
the faucet spigot a measured pouring,
that can overshoot, the stream behind the house,
a toe tickling masseuse caress,
a dam’s waterfall endless crashing,
a sea, wave licking sudden raging dangerous

blend these sensations that belong to all,
and you’ll know light better than most,
indeed, light is for those who cannot vision
except from the inside with a sight that can be
touched, felt, imagined, and which the sightless
command better than us ordinary thoughtless

indeed light is as simple to understand as
  abc,
which you have never seen, but creates the words
that we all
use
even share
~
My Lil Miss Masseuse.

Thaaaaank you Zoish.

Hot and uncomfortable I was, so my lil masseuse gave me an ice massage.

Hot and humid it was, so she comforted me with an ice pack large.

Lil Ms Masseuse, my feet into cold water, tenderly dipped;

And cool water applied all over my body; also some I sipped.

Suddenly the sweltering heat reduced n things were not too bad.

In all my life, this was undoubtedly the best massage I ever had.

With her love and tenderness, the strokes so caressing were;

For this, with great pride, award I the Nobel prize in Massaging, to her.

Armin Dutia Motashaw
Martin Narrod May 2014
It's like this, and then there was total recall. Fast like a safety plan made wrong and then bouncing in and out all the way down the hall. Up through cable cars, Korean fast food market, wet fish, soupy street, concrete cracks filled with crab meat and **** heads. Just a square, a five block, two street, sideways quadrangle, beat of the Tenderloin, hour of the dove. Every one's dead on these loose ends. Hills of the back of her backside, skin of the back of her neck. Rapture is the grave of the sunset, memory is that thing that I said.

No one cans in carnivores, no one runs moves like a shepherd. Sunday, daft as candy, luck in the ways of the prophet. Canon of the blaze of every woman that died today. The sleep setting, the motorcycle bending the hollow, the ravines noisy interlude, up through the rough and the tangles, huddles in a six pack, three or four walking up the block to meet the rest of them.

The skin doesn't fit right, it wears wrong, the shoulders stiff, the masseuse excuses himself. Buckets of flowers hang from the ceiling like stripped cat christmas decorations in suburban mastermind serial killer resort town. Everyone is quiet because they gotta. They move their feet like they were hurrying death into a red volcano, like they were the errand of red from the top bell to the bottom of the town.

I sit on a roof top, baking in the noon day sun. Stripping sticks and stems off the side to sideways, just roasting away, laying, low in the afternoon light. I see a girl with her hands on her skirt, wobbling, scooting a priest card on a periwinkle terra-cotta.  I move my head, turn it upside round to take a better look. No one counts to ten when they see me. The gangster that woke up isn't the gangster that went to sleep last night. My wickedness ended my words mean your bright decay. So I ride the pavement exhausted, burying my coughs in an L-shaped arm
Robin Carretti Jun 2018
Business the Guinness
of records
Of the
Drunkin drivers
The presidential
audience all
together

We love one
white or dark lie
conifers thinking like
the Beatle song
I'm a loser
having respect for
yourself be the defeated
M-L-M morons, losers,
So nice you are linked
into my millionaires
The marketing scam
You will be broke
Those 69 lovers to
be ******
off shorter life
just smoke  PM
ATM money goes
pop the weasel
painting it dark
drunk
wearing your
heart out on the easel

Not for sale dancers
need exotic drink taking off
their Drunk Zen shirts
Chirp that Chippendale
dance her out
Until she is drunk
Drunk Zen Rocker
of punk

So ***** light thinker side
Phone drinker fantasize
about the trip
Link me on my
mountaintop- stamp
collection glue-stick
philatelic reinvention

Doing my exercise why so
Absentminded
Wow such beauty Judy
sunrise recent
memory-guided
What meeting my heart all
depends to remember
September but October
November Drunk Zen
Thanksgiving food
with crying pillows
Quite the Yam and
marshmallows
before I was drunk

The new navy blouse said
I'm not drunk abbreviated
Inebriated linked-in
private club
Like an initiation or
Sorority only drunk
I'm not sorry invitation

Drunk Club Zen
adventurous men
The hair club Oh! no
shipwrecked
He got her by her
drunk-in neck

The Mediterranean
Going French Canne
Itsy bitsy tipsy bikini
The monk was like
the morning hot flame
Glitch or twitch of the nose
Jeannie
What a Red-Robin Rooster
making

Kevin Bacon lovers
Melted cheese and him
couldn't hold his sneeze
The Bed and breakfast
This wasn't Hamlet
or Camelot just
drunken Dunkin donut
drive-in
For God's sake
(O) outstanding omelet
 drunken sea of eleven
Steven Universe
Glick Pearl chick
Email one universe click
Linked deep-sea hoarder
of junk
At her summer house
Strawberry wild hair he was
drunk forever Irish lad
Like the pub in
London Abby lane

Nancy Drew mystery
tour Zen men pour
In Georgia stays in her
mind what would it be
without nature, we need
air the water the sound

The trees grow in Brooklyn
Robin me birds spoke in
Those hubs on the go
In there Mercedes
having yogurt? Their drunk__

Drunk Zen be brave not
to be hurt his head cocked
A million in none
cars parked
The cheer was in beer the
lover of darkness
sky malt drunk
They were bushy eyed
with a  drunken masseuse
Drunk Zen was having sweet
tooth French kiss mouse  

Hands numb she is falling
over her  tweets of words
So jibberish dumb what
******* but silence
That number lottery Freddy
Halloween what Diva Queen
13 shots
High school drop out

Guilty ever Greek
to ever think cop out
Spiritual caller like the
winding road babes of pigs
in a blanket the helicopter
Head spinner Eifel Tower
Frenc kiss got plugged
drunk never a hug

Hangover flower mugs
The Drunk-Apple* of his eye
computer the Zen dogs'
Alaskan Husky Buddhism
Shiba Uni from Japan
They got the realism

Heavy rain tents you walk
out on me
Woodstock Jefferson Airplane
Or those Cocker Spaniels
Elton John with Daniel

The adoption they were crazed
with high tech gadgets
The adopters named Danny boy
Zoolander commander was drunk
I wasn't really drinking you have
a brain of a sieve

Man, water, the green earth just live
Like the four-leaf clover hey
this isn't over
(The Planet) or her
drunken eyes who wins
I could see a glimpse of
garnet Oh! **** it like
a dragnet or the Zen
The Roobus tea faraway
thought
In Ireland hilly garden

Men with ladies cat milk
purr Kate Perry
Linked into the
materialistic Madonna
lady of silk he's the
hangover she
gave him her soy milk
what a guy
The pry coexisting to
ever think to pray

The super lady drink
never thinking blue
that he ever existed
Not remembering who you're
with he was on the
wanted list
Linked In the army
green wearing
a tank top bullets firing
in his chapel getting
married in his tank
Blue uniform acting
drunk

Disguised as a cop
My acting role for
both like Darth
And hey we are
not drunk!!
In the name of a
drunken love
Before I was drunk

My higher flight parachute
twenty-two jump street right fit
yourself as oneself linked
onto the mountain
the Ancient spiritual awareness
Grecian  love fountain harness
Maybe a lonely shot
of darkness
Maybe a lovely shot
of wellness
Linked into so many things do you feel pressured or you have an acting role but you better be drunk Ay Vey just pray when you show up don't give up we are all friends in the same boat. Let us sail away or no let's show the world what we really need to say
Sam Oliver May 2010
Don't be fooled.
I don't woo with words.
I don't woo with actions,
Either.

No, I am too much of a novice.

My intention,
Intended,
To release these tensions
Intensified by the cloud
Of tense living.

In tensions with no spa,
No relief,
No massage,
No pedicure,
No manicure
To calm them.

Ever wondered
Who masseurs
The masseuse?
I don't wonder.
I know.

No one.

Intending
To untensify
The tender
Tendencies of
Tenacious living,
The tenders of
Untended flesh
Relieve your tensions
With no intentions
of receiving intended returns.

They take your tensions
With only intentions
To leave you intense
In the freedom of life.
Meanwhile fragile tensions
Tend to rend them,
Causing trouble and strife.

Feel relieved.
They are in tension,
Don't worry about
Giving attention.

You weren't going to anyway.
TheOtherWoman Jun 2014
High school was the peak of your ecstasy high.
High school was coming down, and needing the coke to feel fine.
High school was floating in space--
'Cause ****** was massaging your brain.
Like a masseuse,
But like any good masseuse
they kneaded out your knots, and your neck became inflamed.
High school was all that.
The greats and the awfuls of every electric event.
You never felt the equilibrium
We were always at full max or the lowest minimum.
Temporary bipolar,
That's what we called it.
Temporary bipolar.

High school; we ******* felt it all.
The times Mary Jane showed us the moon
The times we were all sad and danced in my room.
Nobody knew it but Air baby and Alien and Fire baby too,
We were all in a war;
Well, not me.
I simply watched and kept my foot in the door.
So that to never let it close forever
So that to keep everybody together.

like when we hugged and became one
That was when everything was good,
When we no longer felt like the past was erased and our present had won.
When hugs didn't intermingle with the word resentment.
When kisses didn't intermingle with the thoughts of coerced ***.

When WE hugged we were in an empty white room.
Together yet so alone.
In high school there were secrets,
And when we were all there together hugging and dancing in my room,
We were one;
And nobody even had to know
that fire, air, and water were about to explode and come undone.

High school was Lester leaving town,
And injecting anxt into the walls of my house.
High school was forgotten elevator rides next to police officers,
And middle aged women having drinks and making an offer.
Im gonna make him an offer he can't refuse,
sock on the door and it's off to bed.

High school was being afraid to break a boy's heart, and dreaming of another home.
High school was leaving early from a party to let him cry on your shoulder.
High school was food left on the plate and narcissistic mirrors.
High school was cigarettes burning holes in relationships and the number four controlling people's lives.

High school was us being so real it almost felt fake,
High school was seeing how many pills you could take.

Up up into the clouds was where we always were,
Because in high school,
That was better than being anywhere.
Now off to college.
Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
A proposal I lay before you and with an earnest smile
I propose to you (yes you, my dear)
That you spend three days in my care
For three days will be enough for you
To decide your time with me

The first day will be bliss unending
For you have only known me for a few months
As we unravel a masterpiece of cherished things
Bathed in sweetness you’ve only dreamed
We shall tour the world (online)
We shall eat culinary wonders (from some store around the corner)
Straight out of my fancy china and silverware, no less
The luxury of life will hide nothing from us
And at night, I will caress your every pain (and pleasure, if I may be so bold)
Put my (newly acquired) masseuse skills to the test
And ease your worries until you drift to sleep (or agony)
All in my warm and loving (-ly sore) arms
(until they start to lose their feeling, in which I will promptly wake you)  

The second day will be a casual life
In which you will have known me for a decade
You will be comfortable in my pajamas’ warmth
(Let’s be honest, you look better in them anyway)
We will share a cup of sweet tea, direct from my lips to yours
(after it’s cooled, of course, scolded tongues make no romance)
Lay on the couch for hours as we talk about nothing (because nothing is on)
And when we can rest no more, we will wander the outside world
To rediscover the things we knew all over again, holding hands
After we’ve made our findings, we’ll return to the comforts of our walls
I will prepare a meal (that I’ve frozen) from the best recipe site I can find
Then we will sit in front of the tube again like couch potatoes
And watch a movie, cuddled together until we fall asleep on each other
(Popcorn, blankets, drinks, the works- all within reach, my dear)

The third day will test you and your limits
As we have been together for a half-century, a year, and then some
The days have taken their toll as our bodies fluctuate more
Our contact brief as we become recluses even to ourselves
And even the days in which you renew your love become woeful
A trivial, typical, and tiresome feat, if I could muster more effort
But I am now a former shell of the one you’ve met long ago
Tempting you to flee for another, younger fling to test time by
And if you go to chase the dreams and aspirations I held you back from
I will wait, composed as I decompose, ever slowly with nothing more
But my ring, my pride, and my heart containing with nothing but you
(and the tubes from the pacemaker, but if Iron Man could do it…)

So I ask you this once my dear (maybe twice if you didn’t hear me the first time)
Will you take me up on my proposal or shall I sleep forever knowing
That I could never obtain someone so precious to me in this lifetime?

© 2014
Bunhead17 Nov 2013
[Justin Vernon - Bon Iver: Sample From "Woods"]
I’m up in the woods, I’m down on my mind
I’m building a still to slow down the time
I’m up in the woods, I’m down on my mind
I’m building a still to slow down the time
I‘m up in the woods, I’m down on my mind
I’m building a still to slow down the time

[Hook 1 x2]
I’m lost in the world, I’m down on my mind
I’m new in the city, and I’m down for the night
Down for the night
Said she’s down for the night

[Kanye West - Verse 1]
You're my devil, you're my angel
You're my heaven, you're my hell
You're my now, you're my forever
You're my freedom, you're my jail
You're my lies, you're my truth
You're my war, you're my truce
You're my questions, you're my proof
You're my stress and you're my masseuse
Mamasaymamasamamakusa
Lost in this plastic life
Let's break out of this fake *** party
Turn this in to a classic night
If we die in each others arms we still get laid in our afterlife
If we die in each others arms we still get laid, yeah

[Hook 2]
I’m up in the woods, I’m down on my mind
(Run from the lights, run from the night)
I’m building a still to slow down the time
(Run for your life, Down for the night...)
I’m lost in the world, I’m down on my mind
I’m new in the city, and I’m down for the night
Down for the night
Said she’s down for the night
(Run from the lights, run from the night)

[Bridge]
Who will survive in America
Who will survive in America
Who will survive in America

[Hook]

[Gil-Scott Heron]
Us living as we do upside down. And the new word to have is revolution
People don’t even want to hear the preacher spill or spiel
Because God’s whole card has been thoroughly piqued
And America is now blood and tears Instead of milk and honey
The youngsters who were programmed To continue ******* up
Woke up one night digging Paul Revere and Nat Turner as the good guys
America stripped for bed and we had not all yet closed our eyes
The signs of Truth were tattooed across our often entered ******
We learned to our amazement untold tale of scandal. Two long centuries buried In the musty vault, hosed down daily with a gagging perfume
America was a ******* the illegitimate daughter of the mother country
Whose legs were then spread around the world and a ****** known as freedom, free doom. Democracy, liberty, and justice
Were revolutionary code names that preceded the bubbling bubbling bubbling bubbling bubbling in the mother country’s crotch
What does Webster say about soul?
All I want is a good home and a wife
And a children and some food to feed them every night
After all is said and done build a new route to China if they’ll have you

Who will survive in America?
Who will survive in America?
lyrics to "Lost in the World" by Kayne West, ****. Kayne West & Jeff Bhasker... I love this song! :D
John F McCullagh Dec 2011
The young woman struggled,
she pushed and bore down.
She was covered in sweat
when they first saw the crown.

The doctor, with forceps,
Tried to coax the newborn
Into the light from the
womb dark and warm.

What came next was amazing,
a wonder to see.
The obstetrician so shocked
He nearly dropped the baby.

A cute baby boy-
There no cause for alarm-
and his miniature wings
Merely add to his charm.

This cuddly cherub
hovered feet off the ground.
The umbilical cord
All that kept him earth bound.

His wondering mother
Was clearly perplexed,
For none of her lovers
had been winged’ sexperts.

True, one was named “Angel”,
her Swedish masseuse,
but, apart from good hands,
he’d been of little use.

Perhaps that old goat
With the lengthy Greek name
Who muttered “by Zeus”
Every time that he came.

Not that it much mattered
Not here or not there
Still there’s no denying
Her boy’s got a pair.
Call this a flight of fancy
John F McCullagh Jan 2012
The young woman struggled,
she pushed and bore down.
She was covered in sweat
when they first saw the crown.

The doctor, with forceps,
Tried to coax the newborn
Into the light from the
womb dark and warm.

What came next was amazing,
a wonder to see.
The obstetrician so shocked
He nearly dropped the baby.

A cute baby boy-
There no cause for alarm-
and his miniature wings
Merely add to his charm.

This cuddly cherub
hovered feet off the ground.
The umbilical cord
All that kept him earth bound.

His wondering mother
Was clearly perplexed,
For none of her lovers
had been winged’ sexperts.

True, one was named “Angel”,
her Swedish masseuse,
but, apart from good hands,
he’d been of little use.

Perhaps that old goat
With the lengthy Greek name
Who muttered “by Zeus”
Every time that he came.

Not that it much mattered
Not here or not there
Still there’s no denying
Her boy’s got a pair.
Updating the classics
Sam Lincoln May 2014
:)


Charles ate a Rocky Mountain
oyster shell from the spleuchen
of a bee resting on a bed plate,
but then fell asleep.


Glandular curvulas search for
the meaning of life;
to **** and be ****** by the nerve centre.


Clooties of the Yellowstone national park
make regretful decisions, that lead to excessive
crying, and dry/wet heaving for
MTV'S SPRING BREAK BLAST:
The ending is on pp.22 featuring beam rays
telltale sign of stirless beaches and nights irritating
my irritatory sun causing me
to
fumble




from the letter shape of my family tree.
Quintessentially, but not really, reptilians smiled
to eat sour investment of  telltale
signs of testicular cancer,
while sending SMS messages to
acquaintances blabbering
"Come over and watch a movie ;)"
and gloating of recently acquired masseuse skills.
I had to write something that meant nothing for school
Tim Knight Mar 2016
A fortnight ago an Algerian masseuse anointed each note of my joints,
spread thumbed cursive over my shoulders and
back around to my chest;
she spelt out how I'd be shivering now knowing you were leaving.
And last week you led me to an acupuncturist where he said,
Rob Frost had quit his job on point duty to become a receptionist instead.
I knew it was ******* by the way you barked in the background.
I knew it was wrong from the rumble through the stud wall,
sound of timpani, of gusto's drawl ringing in my ears:
the resonance of windfall if saved 'in the best ISA for years!'
This has been the best February since records began
and I thank you for being a friend.
from coffeeshoppoems.com
Àŧùl May 2013
She's my everything.

The maid holding my hand in loneliness,
The masseuse massaging me in tiredness,
The path-shower with candle in darkness.

She's so magically young.

The angel materialized into my life by chance,
The angel that waves her wand in my tension,
The angel smiling & making my world shine.

She's my everything,
She's so magically young,
(: My young angel smiles & my world shines so bright. :)
My HP Poem #220
©Atul Kaushal
Geof Spavins Aug 19
In a peaceful room with candles aglow,
She works her magic, gentle and slow.
Her hands, like whispers, glide with grace,
Easing tension, finding the place.

With soothing oils, she starts her art,
A dance of fingers, a healer’s heart.
Knots unravel, stress takes flight,
In her touch, the world feels right.

She exfoliates with tender care,
Removing worries, layer by layer.
A scrub of salt, a touch so kind,
Leaving softness, and peace of mind.

Her presence calm, her spirit bright,
In her hands, the day turns light.
This lady masseuse, with skill so true,
Bringing comfort, renewing you.
I have a bad back
Ford Prefect Mar 2015
i do believe that kissing has been labeled a sin  by the vary people who over-sexualized it in the first place;
two lips
brushing
pushing
rubbing together like the skilled hands of a masseuse on another person's bare back.
like painting my nails
or watching baseball
or wanting cherry flavor instead of grape
my want to kiss
another person
male or female
is a desire of the flesh:
a sin against God.

how do i discern the the good from the bad?

this must be why religious people go to such extremes, live in such strict communities, allow themselves to be enslaved by a culture created generations before they were born.

they are confused.
Darling Masseuse, skim his Hard Earth be Soft
By your next Session his Element revive
His own make Worth; Thrice-Sterlings spent a-loft
And soothe his Shaking Mind with your Devise
Many would Envy; So thank your Warden
A once and only Event made, perhaps
Press your Therapy; Enrich his Garden,
Your Best Performance whilst under the Wraps:
(M....M....M....M....M....M...M...M...M...M....)
(........­.........................................................!)
(N...­.N....N....N....N....N....N....N....N....N....)
(................­................................................!!)
At last, refreshed! His Male rejuvenate
Then left his Fine Tip; A Lip for rebate.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Daniel J Weller Jul 2018
You weren't the poetic one, but I just read Kaddish
and thought of you;
           of 1998 beach photo, Sussex somewhere - as I
remember you, perhaps a bit younger;
           of sweet peroxide blonde, hiding brunette. I was
naive to the dye 'til I saw 'the Hepburn shot' - that 1950
something print, you in Rembrandt light,
           or the black beehive wig in family portrait—
1970ish— dicky bows and cocktail dresses - Dad, aged
seven, in a shirt and trousers;
           of youthful snapshots: Portobello Beach, Edinburgh
(4), with parents in Kent (8), your gang of girls some snowy
place (14), painting the house with Raymond in Croydon (20);
           of latter digital images, 2012, more gaunt and wrinkled,
but ever-beautiful - seemingly ageless, as you wished;

           of care and trust and overdone vegetables, thin gravy,
brussel sprout production lines - beautiful, mundane memories
at Cowfold breakfast bar or Langley Green kitchen tops;
           of seaside trips to Shoreham, Portsmouth, Brighton, dogs
homes and holding my hand past the loud ones;
           of picking roses from the garden for 'perfume' - sticky
hands, wet floors and beautiful smells;
           of early morning rude awakenings, met only with cheer
and offers of tea and toast - I still have your butter tray
(hospitable even in death);
           of my brother's wedding, taking time to jive and seem
alive whilst everyone else was dying inside, despite the fact
that it was you, and you only, who should care the most (and
thus, if you didn't, why should we have);
           and of that very temperament, infamous tempers never
shown—at least to us—just pure, kind acceptance and
forgiveness.

           You weren't the poetic one.
           You were; the ninth child of a ****** and his wife
                              the girl with the Scottish accent
                              the wife of an engineer from Mitcham
                              the mother of three, the loser of one
                              the stern face of discipline
                              the BT telephone operator, the masseuse
                              the grandmother of three boys
                              the ageless face of beauty
                              the one I remember best

           You told me you couldn't recall your siblings' names -
I've looked into it. Ada, Jack, Edie, Emmie, Mabel, Joyce,
Raymond, Terence.
Beaulieu, France, July 2018

(to my late grandmother Margaret Rose Olga Weller)
Jet Dec 2020
And at my new job I am the manager-in-training.

In French it is

“Responsable en formation”

Or as I would say,
Responsible information.

However, I was not responsible in gathering my information.

During my interview, I said masseuse.

Turns out that is heavily connotated and maybe even denotated as a *** word.

I asked if it was the French ending

He said, “No, it’s the happy ending”

Maybe French is only **** because of how much is escapes me.

The opposite reason is why death was never **** to me
because of how much I escaped it

Maybe death finds
Me
****

And Anyway I got the job
And a month later my boss gave to me a T-shirt that said
your table is ready

At first,
Instead of a massage table,
I thought it was a stretcher
And I laughed

I wonder what that means

“You could have died” “you almost died” “it’s a miracle you’re still here”

“we’re /glad/ you’re still here”

Are words I often hear from my doctors
who almost always meet with me pro bono because I am poor, but also interesting

Medically

But they are not words I hear from my mother

Those are the words she saves to give to her 90-something mother-in-law

I say 90-something not because I am careless or inattentive, but because my grandmother Adeline lied about her age so often in her youth, that both she and the government forgot her actual age

The words my mother gives to grandma J upset her.

She is tired of living

Asked all of us to pray for her death

Asked my brother in law to be “to help her get to heaven tonight”
Said “I know you can help me get to heaven tonight” presumably because he works for the cook county coroner's office.

He is a man so jaded that he sometimes can only laugh on the job when he sees particularly trite Chicago suicide notes:

To be fair, he’s not cruel
It is usually when it is something
Like
“you either die the hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain”

Anyway, it made him cry when old Addie asked that

and also if you are a prayer person,
please pray for her death,
I can’t bring myself to do it.
Originally performed at the iFell Gallery on November 30, 2019. Adeline D Johnson passed peacefully on May 13, 2020. She was buried with her dog’s ashes. She was buried next to her husband she hadn’t seen since 1976
Robert C Howard May 2014
Maya slept here, there and everywhere -
and sadly now, the sleep is perpetual.

But more to the point,
Maya awoke us all - starting with herself
and what she awakened in us
can never sleep again!

When she spoke, her kind healing voice
kneaded our souls like a spiritual masseuse.

When she spoke,
          presidents listened.
When she spoke,
          the oppressed took heart.
When she spoke,
          oppressors changed heart a little.
When she spoke,
          America said Amen
          and so we will forever.

Thank you Maya for being so good at being.
I am so hungry
I would lick your
***** cutlery clean
and my eyes still
won't adjust to the
changing light conditions  

I'll also be offering my
services every evening
this week because
I am absolutely
  strapped

No I won't be
your rent boy
but I will
clean your boots
and wash your car
...and sleep with your sister

You see, pride can't
diminish
when it's already
gone
so I'll be your masseuse
I'll dry clean your thong

If you can't
reach me via phone
I'm either dead
or making progress
feel free
to leave a message
wordvango Oct 2014
I am a collective of a most  considerate refusal
yelled at 110 decibels like a masseuse gone wild
on top of you jumping try yen to loosen
post or pre menstrual cramping
manipulating selective preemptive
decepting what I mean and what I does
fallowing the child  run or a boar's rut
into your gut
falsify credentials act tough when I get caught
bust a nut every 9 months
into the air usually,
**** can  seams of truth dreamy means
****** . ha
Brandon Fox Jan 2017
I went to
Standup today
And the guy said
"No notes"
But I went up there
And I did my notes
And I did my set
And the first half went well
And the second half was ok
And I got laughs
And I got offstage
And the guy threatened me
And did it in a passive aggressive way
And said some people get banned
And I left right after my set anyway
And went on the subway

the homeless guy is getting on with me
And is begging softly for money
And the happy ending masseuse is jerking
And the orphans walking back to his "home"
And the annual tenth black women's being shot
And the illegal busboys wiping his 87th table
And the bitter son lost his father yesterday
And there (really) is a child in Africa starving
And a girls being *****, for the second time
And the blocked composers cocking his gun
And the muse is lying on the beach of nonexistence

And
And
And

The homeless man, exiting the train, says,

Thank you
God bless you all
I'll probably see you all here
tomorrow
And
Alaina Moore May 2018
If you think you're irreplaceable
You are sorely mistaken.
I can pay for a therapist
When I need someone to talk to.
I can pay for a masseuse
When my muscles scream.
You are nothing to me by blood,
You are among the family I chose.
And I can choose to separate from you.
I don't need you.
You need me.
RLG Mar 2017
A man from work
Is going to Vietnam.
I’ve been before.
I fell off a scooter.
I warned him:
‘Careful of those bikes.’
He winked.
He misinterpreted my advice.

I reminded him to get his jabs:
‘Yellow fever will get you.’
He winked.
He thought I was being blue.

I recommended a reputable masseuse:
‘Wonderful hands. Ask for Luu.’
He winked.
He misconstrued my review.

He told me:
‘My mission is to tan.’
‘Agent Orange,’ I joked.
He didn’t understand.
I am
lore of
wine often
lately overdone
as my
cape is
rouge in
a billet
that rosé
blushes masseuse
and this
obvious state
is true
but in
real life
my blues
traveler hues
wordvango Sep 2017
Sorry, dude

I know I have been
busy lately
our friendship
has taken a hit

but golf is out of the question,
I have to take her kitten
to the masseuse

again
Hassan Idris Mar 2020
Even though my pen is broken,
My heart is still in love with her,
And my body is itching to hold her,
Let me take her closer and closer.

I want her to dominate my blood stream,
I'm hers and she's mine.

I want her to shape my heart like she has shaped the minds of billions.

I want to tell the world, I find joy in her world,
My darling...
My body masseuse is her,
And my soul's cleanser is her.
The love of poetry lies deep in our hearts.  Poetry is life and life is poetry.  I say happy world poetry day to all!

— The End —