"pitstops" poems
The wheels trample over hope,
they ground human minds
until they crack, until they exude
diaspora, and become sidewalks again.
The feeling
of freezepops icing the tongue
has been relinquished
because of the engine's lion moan,
suitable
for flesh and vitality.
We rumble over a bridge, the brakes reveal
their mouths and the hurt inside of them.
We lumber to a stop beside a park,
beside a bridge,
beside a river,
beside oily waters and
fire slapping the beach.
You and I,
are across the river.
There is a fountain filled with marble men
grabbing the thighs of marble women
with eyebrows wrinkled
towards their pelvis'.
If our souls could be soft again,
malleable,
we could wrinkle them in our laps
at pitstops.
I look across the aisle,
at a girl in a black pea-coat.
She knots her hands in her laps
and scratches her knuckles
with white nails.
I am
looking for the soft ore of hope
still nimble in the water fountain
of her lap,
your lap.
The engine,
this bus filled with bobbing eggs,
can break yolks.
This engine
can grind love down to a talcum,
a dust able to resign itself
to knotted hands and the jewelry boxes
of flesh.
This engine
works child's tongues in its wheels,
churning out adults,
churning out civilization,
churning out nothing.
Feb 15, 2012
Feb 15, 2012 at 7:57 PM UTC
Greasy hair tied back
pink scrunchies haphazardly holding together the unbrushed strands
rosemary mint chapstick smeared between lips and lips and lips on lips
backseat bouncer, I'll leave when the dance is done
The same type of ***** this visual you get when you watch the sky turn in the AM
pink, blue, green, gold, gone
shoes off in hand, feet itch on concrete
to corner store barely open fifteen minutes
cherry coke slushies are so good at 7AM
how dare you preach to me calling me
"Honey, Baby Girl, Peach"
listen to me for a change
Im no lesser than you because I prefer to live like wind
with a here today gone tomorrow mindset
It wasn't love, this isn't love
wont answer your calls, at school a nod in the halls,
baby my motto is pitstops and pitfalls
a brief rest for restoration, then back to hopping barbed wire fences
I don't mean to be mean but this is the last you'll see of me for a long time
because Love isn't real and if it is she took it with her
Oct 3, 2016
Oct 3, 2016 at 1:56 AM UTC
Stargazing cactus bloom
desert daydream
skipping salted stones
lost highway
The Mojave a light with
fire flowers
road side decor
for this age of weekend hotel floors
arid breeze
kissing us dizzy
gambled, addicted
visiting Mirage down in the valley below
city glow
dark hair,
light eyes
foreign tongue I love you so
Sweet tequila
lifted above the ground
spin me, spin me, that gleeful aquarius sheen
you're amazing
you're a light in my life, Casino Moonshine
switching gears, half eaten diner meals
roadside pitstops for broken windows
whistling wind
like a gilded finch.
Joshua trees from over Nordic seas
soft skin getting lucky 7 spins
tingling touch
dark lidded lust
euphoric hymm
it's him it's him it's him
orange sky
brusts bright
in my tired amphetamine eyes
May 12, 2019
May 12, 2019 at 3:37 PM UTC
"Make yourself small
become invisible
until you are needed
don't take up space
starve yourself so that we find you appealing
cover and smear away
at your blemishes"
is the unspoken rule
Our bodies are not pitstops
for ravenous men
this flesh
these limbs
this ***** is a gift
and can be taken away,
just as it can be given
When they want you
docile and unassuming
seen but not heard
climb through the bars
of the prison you built
to please others
and make something of yourself
for in you alone, lies the power.
Esther L. Krenzin
Jun 16, 2019
Jun 16, 2019 at 9:23 PM UTC
Believe me I tried to match his enthusiasm. God, I really tried to
Guess I lacked in that department, my apologies beau
This is slowly becoming a big inconvenience, don’t want to
He knows I’m up to something yet he didn’t let that get in the way
Yes, I’d love if we continue this but without ever going forward just stay
I could see he’s genuinely trying, though I appreciate the comfort
This wasn’t my plan, because I have way too many misdemeanors
He can perfectly sense it but what can I say, I am in the motion
Five good mornings are better than one and five questions
Asking me how my day went, will drown out that unnecessary tone
People say I got a thing for authority figures
I just find it beguiling for someone to be MORE
So I’ll just settle for guys older **** I like it when I win them over
I like it when they latch into me like they’re pressured and hopeless
Or they’re rejoicing in my youth, funny how they become careless
Oh yes. Thirties and they’re thirsting. But then again eventually, I’d never bother
They’re good enough to bury that one real deal that I cannot grasp,
It’s good for nobody, a mess no one was ready for, a sad canvas
Now, gotta try to manipulate my narrative. They chase me, I want that
This is the calm. The fun. What the real deal fails to have and ***** me over, somewhat?
That is why only his, will never fill me completely
Let’s make this several so that I’ll not be lonely
I wish I could let you off the hook immediately
But not when I’m still getting away from that one real deal
Pitstops after pitstops, until I made my mind. Shall we?
May 23, 2020
May 23, 2020 at 3:47 AM UTC
goals are just pitstops
your goals to achieve
are above the clouds
ignore the clouds and go beyond
of the universe, don't stop at your goals
Oct 7, 2019
Oct 7, 2019 at 6:46 AM UTC