"quickies" poems
My summer lover
The shapes we uncovered
After glasses of wine
Clutching my spine
With sweaty palms
A voice that calms
You laid me down
And let me drown
In a pool of lust
Quaking with each ******
The bites
From steamy nights
The pink hickies
From afternoon quickies
Oh, but the early morning kissing
Is what I’m still missing
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 4:18 PM UTC
advertising has changed so much
in capitalism,
it's a form of existentialism,
while the french philosophers
abstracted in coffee shops
english existentialism took to
constantly advertising people,
they're not cheese grins and tampons
and toilet product quickies...
they're literally full time adverts,
they do that thing called blogging in video...
it's a strange existentialism,
it's a plagiarism of c.c.t.v.,
the new medium of advertising requires
constant consumer surveillance with those clowns
getting gifts from companies, talking about
getting them and pushing them on...
advertisement literally became a movie picture
akin to Hollywood... the internet age
gave us advertisement actors who
advertise with so much existential angst they
have to encompass each and every day
as wroth advertising - and confuse people
with mundane issues akin to dentistry
and take-away menus that they're not doing...
what they're actually doing;
*a friend in need is a friend indeed,
a friend with **** is better,
a friend with ******* and all the rest
a friend who's dressed in leather...*
(placebo's pure morning).
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 7:54 PM UTC
Six Straight
The old cowboys of TV fame,
Were straight shooters,
Who carried six shooters,
Sometimes two.
When I grow up,
I want be a six straight cowboy too,
Six straight hours of sleep,
Or dem bad poems all dressed in black,
they're a gonna shoot me, holy dead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The youniverse is getting smaller
The you-in-verse is getting smaller,
My poems, shorter,
Hemingwayesque, see!
Why use two words,
Whenonewilldo.
Warmer, too,
Somehow tho global heat
Ain't reached my woman's
Hands or feet.
When you touch my GPS,
It stands ready, at attention,
Always opens up with a prayer,
Directions to Home,
Like I said,
The you-in-verse is getting smaller.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lend Me a Tune
Wish I knew how to
Compose some love lyrics,
But can't carry a tune,
It seems that the music
Must always comes first.
So with conceit and disbelief,
Wrote words and shot 'em into space,
Hoping they'd pass thru galaxies,
Maybe a comet tail,
Find a Songster who will strum them
Into perfect, into complete.
I ain't unhappy that all I got
Was the lesser gift of
Humming words to myself,
Ain't dissatisfied, but wish they
Could be ratified, by the music
Of a voice reading them to me
Or fingers tapping, happening them
Upon the ivories upon my chest,
The chest that needs exploration.
So let's make some music
Finish these lyrics jointly,
When all finito, pointedly
Take our co-sing-song,
Dance to it with our bodies
Sing words the whole night long,
And please baby,
Don't tell me to shut up so you can sleep....
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 6:28 PM UTC
no matter when I go to sleep
no matter when I go to sleep,
my next door neighbors
wake me up,
arguing.
History and the Future,
the oddest couple,
always in opposition,
in a world of mutual armament.
these unilateral siamese twins,
every dialectic ends the same:
one says I'll **** you,
then, they both start laughing.
(Eléa's #1 fav)
9/15/17 4:35am
<•>
mark me as safe
though the namelessly hurricane is never ending,
the roof, a sacrifice in the wind's temple,
letting millions of naked eyes be persecution witnesses,
marking me as safe, but not saved,
surviving, the destruction, a beautiful curse,
this violent universe.
9/15/17
4:30am
(gifted to Joel & Kelly Rose))
<•>
address me with no assumptions
for we will provide the facts,
with liberty and justice,
we will fill in the redacted parts
in the bill of particulars,
of the indictments signed namelessly,
only as the
The State's Attorney,
woo hoo,
We Who Always Win,
Cause We Make the Rules
9/8/17 9:31am
<•>
21801BB705 VDAB7
given this, the key,
the rulers announced thanks,
but not in anyway a necessite,
we will just smash the locks
and burn your personal history down,
until now it has JUST been whiteout corrected,
you're welcome!
9/14/17
6:37am
(gifted to Evan Crow)
<•>
don't major in the minors
don't major in the minors,
classicism is a double entendre,
you don't understand,
but you will,
when you study headless statues
in a museum
come back to life,
do not act surprised.
progress is not an iPhone,
it's taking a long bathroom break
in the mind.
(Graces's fav)
9/10/17. 5:37am
<•>
All the old battles are new again
All the old battles are new again.
every old poem is but a pretense, a new work refreshed.
cutting edges dull knives, easily resharpened by new use,
fresh excuses.
stale words that stick humans, come to life,
as any and all of your favo-rite
army of (fill in the blank)
___ism's,
marching in the name of good riddance
of the disloyal opposition.
nothing new under the sun,
history books predict the future.
(Eléa's #2 fav)
9/15/17 3:55am
Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 11:38 AM UTC
The love I once had you took it away;
I invested most of my time into you;
Now you're gone, onto a next guy;
Using me for quickies;
Telling me lies about how you love me;
If you loved me, why?
Why will always be the question;
Forever there will be thoughts;
Thoughts of us in the back of my head;
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 12:41 PM UTC
HI DUDES
I JUST UPLOADED THIS WEEKS VERSION OF MY CHART SHOW, WHERE MY MOTTO IS
PLAY THE OLD MUSIC, COUNTDOWN THE NEW, AND I UPLOADED TWO SONGS FROM
ANGRY ANDERSON FROM YESTERDAYS CONVOY FESTIVAL AT GUNGAHLIN
PRETTY RAD ISN’T IT, I USE MY CHARACTER, BERNETTE PETERS, WHO IS MY LITTLE GIRL IN ME
THE ORANGE HAIR WANNA BE, THIS ISN’T STRANGE BEHAVIOUR, THIS IS COOL BEHAVIOUR
PERFORMING ON YOUTUBE, AND THANKS FOR GIVING ME A FEW VIEWS, I LOOK AT ESTIMATED TIME WATCHED
AND I THANK YOU THERE TOO, DON’T STOP BEING ENTERTAINED BY ME, I WILL BE A YOUTUBER TILL THE END
WHICH I HOPE ISN’T FOR A LONG TIME
WELL DONE TO THE NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS, BEATING SEATTLE, 4TH WIN THIS CENTURY
I AM BOPPING BERNETTE PETERSON, AND I SHAKE MY HEAD TO TOE, I SHAKE ALL OVER TILL I ROCK ‘EM ALL OVER YEAH
I PARTY RIGHT, YEAH, I PARTY RIGHT
YEAH, IF YA LIKE ANGRY ANDERSON, CHECK OUT MY VIDS OF ROCK AND ROLL OUTLAW AND WE CAN’T BE BEATEN
I WILL UPLOAD MORE IN THE FUTURE, ESPECIALLY THE PARADE
SORRY FOR MY ONES THAT DIDN’T MAKE IT, MY COMPUTER ONLY ALLOWS A FEW QUICKIES A DAY, OK
AAA YOUTUBE TV, IS WHERE THE NEW UPLOADS ARE OK
THANKS TO TWITTER FOR FAVOURITING MY WE CAN’T BE BEATEN UPLOAD, OK DUDES
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 11:53 PM UTC
1
There was fire within and between us.
We touched ourselves
And got burned painfully, blissfully.
We stopped.
We took a bath.
Removed the ashes,
and got ready for another.
2
Hush, says the gentle moon
silhouetting the smooth mountains
that we create and recreate.
Hush, says the soft wind
caressing, flowing with our hands,
spreading fire through the forest.
Hush, say our awakened lips
locking the flame that longs
to stay long, touched and untouched.
Mar 27, 2011
Mar 27, 2011 at 5:11 AM UTC
Keeping your secrets
Can be pretty tricky
Sticky!!
Hiding those hickey's
And those quickies
With guys named Rickey
and Dicky
With woman named Niki
And
Mickie
Sneaky!!
Cheesy!!
So easy!!
So ******
Seedy!!
On the other hand how dreamy
And very steamy
Kind of fun being sneaky
Not so creepy
Love it deeply
Nothing wrong with briefly
getting freaky
Just do it discreetly
Then it want be so
TRICKY
!!
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
With the third test in the series, now fast drawing to a close
The Australian team is ahead, by a veritable elephant's nose
This last session of play, they've scored the more than a run
Which has not filled, the Indian side with a stump load of fun
A substantial lead, has been built by the Aussie side
They've held their nerve, on the MCG's cricketing bide
Each ball they've faced, has not made them cower in any way
No Indian spinners or quickies, have yet put them away
After this match, there's sure to be a question put forward
As to why India ne'er got, that prized win on the board
Though they did attempt, to pepper Australia with mace
They weren't successful, with their bowling or batting grace
The series of five test matches, is no more alive and kicking
As our Australian side, weren't on the pitch to take a licking
India put in a supreme and gallant effort, during the game's play
But the Australian side, were out to unmake their day
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
It's really hard to believe,
every single one of us
started out
as a reproductive cell,
swimming deeply
into a dark wet ******
All of us were consummated,
********** during
different variations
of the intimacy act.
In fact, some of us
were quickies,
others one night stands
& maybe more than a few,
long romantic evenings.
Whatever, we all became babies.
I would like to think,
I was made on a warm summer evening,
lying on a white-sand beach,
under a beautiful full moon
next to the sound of the surf,
moving to a sweet rhythm.
But I wonder,
was I a mistake,
a break in the protection,
or something worse,
some type of infection.
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 10:30 PM UTC
Palm to ribs he writes what’s not there.
His lips spill the cheap words, “it only beats to keep me alive.”
But the cavity in which it should exist echoes the emptiness of her last goodbye
and it’s not ready for anything more than short hellos and drunk quickies.
I ****** him for the first time at 5 am on New Year’s.
He’s the definition of a void, but we brought in 2016 with a bang.
It’s still unclear which it ******* more –
his body
or the hollow mirror image of my chest.
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 10:14 AM UTC
Hot moments
flashed
under me
those afternoons.
Parking lots
made a mess out of me,
day and night
quickies
to please the senses.
I can no longer shop
Darling.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 7:33 AM UTC
****
Really?
No quickies...
Long stroke only then.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 8:58 AM UTC
What if this was just any other love poem?
Addicted to fame and fortune many "make it big,"
Another love song just like any other, stands alone
As yet another love poem, a be mine, baby baby jig.
Let's give them something new, something with life,
Not stuck in the past, some bar tab to remember me by.
Listless, sitting over the rail, looking for that one day
To come where there is an art or music director guy,
One who remembers your name, so that everyone in
Town speaks about what it would be like to share your fast times,
But it's not real, selling "8 track tapes full of trucker music," while
Ordinary poets and musicians like me are alone on Valentines...
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
Its that mystical moment in time
when serendipity and fate
conspire to create
a cross roads
between you and your ultimate desire
cross roads become one road
and you find yourself
making odes
singing loads of love songs
its that time when glances
part crowded rooms and
for that brief second
a thousand words would have dimmed in comparison
late night conversations
stolen kisses and
needing more wishes
lunch time quickies
during meeting messages
ambiguous phrases
fill the air with cupids touch
your love struck
yet you find yourself stuck
between a rock and a hard place
and you declare
that serendipity and fate
had lost their case
for your intimate space
was already occupied
by a decade worth of memories
by a wedding ring
a couple birthings
and a husband who would have died
just for you
what ifs fill your mind
yet you remind your self
you would not have wanted it any other way
so you create a secret place
memories of his face
tucked neatly away
you smile with the knowledge
you'll love him always
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC