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"onetwothree" poems
Bubble gum was A past time favorite, smacking lips, sugar kiss Teeth warming up to ******* tongues, licks Of whistled no you can’t do that, **** in Pop! Tripped bubbles, blow onetwothree Inside each other and then Bam Bam Bam, the bad man is head over heels For the girl with pink lips, licking sticky Bubble gum crumbs off her skin. And you say we always win; winner-winner Chicken dinner for two or three or Just you; a lone loner is alone; It’ll be okay pink bubbles, one after another, They’ll keep coming your way.
0
Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 12:22 AM UTC
(2) *****
“I accept chaos, I am not sure whether it accepts me”- Bob Dylan We look for a red mark Drawn into the center of our world We wish for very touching and touched Whispering of orders and sweet nothings We ask god or purchase a life which Will have enough heart-beats We see the line and feel like following Because things have fallen short Sometimes you and I, We want limbs to break-off of tree break-off of birds fall off Our bodies, then we will fall in Love with transparency We are sick and weak with difficulty With hiding and seeking and finding The mouse-hole of meaning We are stuffed to death with the icing Of the cakes- with the must-be-of Music- the formulation and onetwothree Of music We don’t know **** about music but we love it We know that all these words and all this knowing is like laying down in the train tracks We are scared to see god and **** in the same car trunk in the same heartcage I would fall into the love with you But that would mean too much We would take up air that does not belong to us I would **** myself with you Shoot you through my brain ***** Maybe, we are born so well Into this age That we settle into misunderstanding I am sorry love I have been speaking for you Our eyes don’t see red But we don’t miss the spectrum Our ears don’t hear the sirens But we don’t need that type of hope We are full on yellow air Dangerous and territorial A black flag of our disposition Stabbed into the sappy Styrofoam Earth I will be able I will love you when words Are as beautiful as poledancers As drugged up and crystal like you daisy baby As zipped open like zero-sized jeans.
0
Mar 27, 2011
Mar 27, 2011 at 9:46 AM UTC
Poems Equals Inside-Out
“I accept chaos, I am not sure whether it accepts me”- Bob Dylan We look for a red mark Drawn into the center of our world We wish for very touching and touched Whispering of orders and sweet nothings We ask god or purchase a life which Will have enough heart-beats We see the line and feel like following Because things have fallen short Sometimes you and I, We want limbs to break-off of tree break-off of birds fall off Our bodies, then we will fall in Love with transparency We are sick and weak with difficulty With hiding and seeking and finding The mouse-hole of meaning We are stuffed to death with the icing Of the cakes- with the must-be-of Music- the formulation and onetwothree Of music We don’t know **** about music but we love it We know that all these words and all this knowing is like laying down in the train tracks We are scared to see god and **** in the same car trunk in the same heartcage I would fall into the love with you But that would mean too much We would take up air that does not belong to us I would **** myself with you Shoot you through my brain ***** Maybe, we are born so well Into this age That we settle into misunderstanding I am sorry love I have been speaking for you Our eyes don’t see red But we don’t miss the spectrum Our ears don’t hear the sirens But we don’t need that type of hope We are full on yellow air Dangerous and territorial A black flag of our disposition Stabbed into the sappy Styrofoam Earth I will be able I will love you when words Are as beautiful as poledancers As drugged up and crystal like you daisy baby As zipped open like zero-sized jeans.
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47
i am in love onetwothree fourfivesix white shades bubble surfacing reminders of every wrong every late night hateful words replaying in my mind overandoverandover. they are beaautiful sweet reminders strength and weakness held in one entity. people stare and question even though judgment already formed in their minds. names and dates etched not only in skin but memory. Anna. July 5th, 2013. Landon.Landon.Landon. February 9th. Mother. November. Gary. February 14th.
0
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 11:16 PM UTC
scars are tattoos with better stories
One. Two. Three. Little pills. Washed down. With ***** in coke. One. Two. Three. Little pills. To drown. The thoughts you provoke. One. Two. Three. Little pills. To shred. The memories left in my head.
0
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 1:49 AM UTC
OneTwoThree
Clocks are striking Mind is spinning Falling down, I make no sound. I cannot speak With you near me, I feel so weak. Love consumes me With you, I feel so free. With you, all I do is smile, and I know I could stay like this for quite awhile. The clock is ticking, onetwothree I need you here with me. Endless time could I spend with you Be mine, and I will be yours too.
0
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 6:04 PM UTC
Love Clock
TEAC/HER I taught my daughter as a dutiful father her ABC's and her OneTwoThree's but as my daughter she taught her father how to see a world as newly new as 3 year old's . . .do! And I much more the richer for her world's view.
0
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 6:44 AM UTC
TEAC/HER
L'AMOUR NE S'EXPLIQUE PAS! C'EST UNE CHOSE COMME ÇA! "L’amour ne s’explique pas! C’est une chose comme ça!" I love the ABC of you the onetwothree of you the latitude and longitude of you the shadow and light of you even the join-the-dots of you even the painting-by-numbers of you you the cryptic crossword I can never do unable to even understand a clue couldn't bear to have you explainecd to know the whys and wherefores of you loving just loving the je ne sais quoi of you glad that you just exist and that in that existence you love me. "L’amour ne s’explique pas! C’est une chose comme ça!"
0
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 4:09 PM UTC
L'AMOUR NE S'EXPLIQUE PAS! C'EST UNE CHOSE COMME ÇA!
I am going to have a dinner party (my heart is set, do not try and discourage me) The psychiatrist asks, "How long has this been going on?" fuckingtwitfuckingassfucking doctornowaren'tWEtwee? my inner dialogue kicks in without the slightest prompting I am going to have a ******* dinner party and not even you can stop me (you see I lived in a hollowed out shell was stuffed inside onetwothree sometime in 1962 or was it '63? I think I think at least I think it was me until they dragged me out by my leg and plopped me down on this bug eaten couch O THE INDIGNITY) I'm going to have a dinner party then they'll see this little dump here? naturally it's only temporary that's what they keep telling me but they won't, they won't stop pulling at me, rubber fitting for my mouth "Bite down!" how bout how bout say please? and the rest of them they sit in a row and tell me it's for the electricity (who's the crazy one now?) I'm going to have a dinner party and none of you can stop me
0
Sep 27, 2019
Sep 27, 2019 at 4:50 PM UTC
Small Fictions, One