"reception" poems
Of all the super heroes who exist
like legends, or monuments in entertainment,
or essential cultural commodities,
and
my favorite is Moon Knight.
Never met a good reception.
Never had a particularly well done story.
I like Moon Knight in theory;
a superhero with mental issues,
with friends who face the moral challenge
of playing into his insanity,
versus helping him stop serious crimes.
It seemed like a social commentary to me;
why do we hate dictators, but love superheroes?
How is it we understand absolute power corrupts
absolutely,
yet also think having an alien demigod semi-rule the planet
is really in the best interest of our species?
The design for Moon Knight has always been immaculate
to me; directly representing the fallibility of the hero,
diving into the night with a decadent radiance,
he wears all white, and declares he enjoys it-
for his enemies to know he's coming.
Does it make sense? No.
Much like the Punisher, Moon Knight doesn't struggle with
being morally black and white, but does struggle with
keeping that identity intact. His eyes glowing,
no face shown... just darkness.
All the emotion in the world broadcast through
two glowing orbs. sometimes red, sometimes green,
often white.
A visual hint to clouded mind of Moon Knight;
Marvel's true Batman gone awry. Gone insane.
A failed son who won't die.
Here's to it.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
Every child broken into a crayon box colours the same.
Jimmy and Bill would know.
The Knight time radio.
Their Daytime TV.
Technology gave us colour in our boxes for entertainment
And Two turn tables to scratch out the screaming.
55 inches in HD wasn't big enough to scribble on
Perfect reception but no one listened to the colours snap.
No one bothered to question why the paper is off the crayon.
I think of all those lost crayolas
being used for shadowing.
A cover inside a cover,
where pages should be in a book.
And here we are,
still drawing in black and white.
Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 9:23 AM UTC
I have fallen in love with the dress at my first sight of the dress. The chiffon fabric is very flowing and elegant. I love the dress! I would rate 100 scores for the dress and the customer service from MarieProm.
I received the dress in a few days. The dress length is fine when I wear the shoes with heels. The most beautiful part I like is transparent collar of the dress. It makes the dress special. Thank you for your effort.
I just bought the dress days ago for my wife! She is so excited to receive this gorgeous dress. It is said that the izidressbuy .com makes fabulous dresses with high quality fabrics，It fits me perfectly and it is everything thought it would be. And the shipment speed is amazing! Hoping to get it soon!
Arrived quickly and fitted perfectly... size chart was very accurate and true. The custom service girl told me their production team has improved the fabric on this dress by choosing a kind of new lace fabric. Yes it really is! I love sooooo much the fabric and whole version of this little white dress!The dress was everything I imagined.
The details of the dress were exactly like the picture. I ordered the dress in my normal size and it fits perfectly. The dress took approximately 2 weeks to arrive after I purchased it. The customer service team at izidressbuy was very helpful and worked really hard to have my dress arrive early for my formal event.
This dress is beautiful, and very flattering. I love it! Unfortunately, I wanted to wear it to a wedding - the ceremony is at 1pm; the reception is at 5pm. It is perfect for the reception, but too dressy for the ceremony since I will be doing a reading and would be way more dressy than the bridal party. It's definitely evening wear. Beautiful though. Haven't decided if I'm keeping it or not. I can't use for the intended purpose, but I could definitely wear it for years and years to other events. Also, dancing in it could be problematic because it is quite long (just above ankles on me, and I am 5' 8-1/2") and it's straight, with no slit. You'd have to hold it up a bit to dance. But again... it's a gorgeous dress.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-2015
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 1:43 AM UTC
there's ethical idealism:
where ethics is discussed...
there's ethical relativism:
where ethics is practised...
there's ethical realism...
where ethics is quantified
as an improbability;
and then there's ethical
absolutism,
where we supposedly
"progress" -
in this scenario are
the laws of physics actually
suspended:
whereby oculus qua oculus
is replaced -
a loss of an eye is "relative"
to 10 years in a cage...
really?!
ethics is
ideal, realistic, absolute or relative...
we're encouraged to live
in "realistic relativism"...
never in an absolute realism,
since realistic relativism
only compares itself
to ideal absolutism...
and nothing more...
ever watched that film
secrets in their eyes?
you ever wonder what
ethical idealism is to the ethnical
consequence that can absorb
a realistic libra?
i can only believe in
ethical absolutism,
ethical relativism is horrid to me...
relativism adorns idealism,
absolutism adorns realism...
a life sentence is worse than
a death sentence,
whether justified or not,
prison is sadism,
but at least ****** is simply ******
a space-time intact,
a ****** penalty is not
inhumane, nor a ouija board...
it's time for time,
space for space,
the actual punishment comes
with the missing adrenaline rush
of the unexpected reception of the wielded
weapon...
either send these jealous plonkers to
siberia, or sentence them to death,
for you are no more than they are,
nay, you are more...
you're akin to cats toying,
playing a sadistic games with half-mutilated
mice...
this is why i abhor
ethical relativism of the crucifix...
hence my belief in ethical
absolutism in the paragraph of realism,
which is perfected, by
being exacted, and never, ever,
being leisurely discussed,
on a farcical palette with a grimace
to boot: ******* a lemon;
compensating the horrors within
minutes, is never compensated
with ordeals that last years...
which is why i find the death penalty
an act of authentic humanity,
and not this quasi-humanitarian
act of pardon, ******* hypocrites -
i abhor the caged rat
more than the rat gladly nibbling
on a dead corpse...
at least there was passion
in the ******
waiting for death penalty is like killing
a vermin with poison,
disposing them with nonchalantly...
the wise maxim states:
ledo ferrum sicut id est calidi -
strike the iron while it's hot...
death is the dawn-broker -
a new tomorrow promise -
left intact, the fermenting process
of ethical dynamism takes over...
then again,
the supposedly "evolved"
preferred moral relativism to moral
absolutism,
because there was no
moral realism to speak of,
since morality could only
be talked about in ideal terms of
the supposedly so, supposedly
fashioned via: it ought to never happen to
me...
and then it might, and then:
oops... argument sinks like a wet fatty ****
into shambles of keeping up with
the presupposed pillar of argument
being "impenetrable";
hey, genius, back to the blackboard!
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 8:50 PM UTC
Samson-bound between book shelves,
in the New Aeon Section,
a pale youth nourishes his ego on
bombastic conjunctive adverbs.
(An imagined sea lion balances a
striped ball on the tip of his
snout & slaps his fins in
frenzied approval. Arf. Arf.)
Though absent, the ring master
smiles from the realms of irony.
He holds the bearded lady by the
burl & orders a reception for
the new act.
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 11:14 PM UTC
as a Pisces, I am swimming upstream,
the salmons last run.
fighting, pulling to grip those soft
rocks beneath.
those beasts that keep some stuck.
salmon are based in diversity
needing to have a wide gene
pool, as their kin die quickly
from those rocks.
getting stuck, swimming around and around…
insanity defined,
and time doesn't stop.
so, to the work.
swimming up stream,
dedicated to being a mother.
creator, incubator.
children
stored in the belly of the beast.
preparing to break free,
be set alive, to roam free.
the wombs embrace,
the face of LOVE.
currents of the calls
are so loud, rushing past my gills.
I feel the whooshing sound,
the pressure bearing down, taunting
me out.
calling me out… are you sure,
are you confident?
constant tests to check
and check and check for missteps.
ones that feel out of step.
no more time for those.
the path is clear,
yet
the water is cold,
bearing down on my scales built,
molded for this.
built in this system of birth and death.
choosing each step from above.
below, here I feel at home and
I feel ME breaking out.
she's broken out, there will be clouds,
rain, thunder all the things.
let
it be.
and the beast is free, she
has descended, dug down deep,
anchored, prepared for reception.
just like the trees, they grow so well
with others.
interdependently nourishing the diversity.
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 5:34 AM UTC
I fall to my knees,
Kneeling before you,
My Master,
Groveling at your glorious feet,
To reveal the chains of submission,
Weighing down my delicate form.
You gaze upon me,
Beholding soft skin shimmering,
As my body is folded over;
Viewing my tantalizing beauty,
As I bestow myself,
To fulfill your deepest desires,
Conjuring the darkest yearnings,
Manifesting within.
“Rise, Baby Girl’’,
Your deep voice commands,
Reverberating within this crimson colored chamber,
As your figure towers over me,
Beckoning my legs to stand,
Obliging to please you,
As my hazel eyes encounter,
The blazing intensity of your own,
Sending flames to burn,
Down to the small of my back.
Fear is the armor I allow to fall,
Tumbling to the ground,
Cloaking myself in trust,
As I allow my body to be,
Touched by dominant hands,
Trussed up by ropes and chains,
To restrain to me.
Willingly becoming prey,
To the sweet, antagonizing caress,
Before your hand aggressively strikes,
My behind,
Sending me into a realm,
Of pleasure and pain,
Morphing into one sensation.
Free is the response I experience,
As you bounds my wrists,
With your tie,
Pinning me down,
Straddling my body.
Placed between your thighs,
With your heated lips,
Conquering every inch of my body.
The Sting of the flogger,
Is a bite against the skin I crave,
As silence is the language,
I choose to speak,
Feeling your fingertips claim me,
As your territory to reign over,
As you please.
I yearn to satisfy the hunger,
Starving to be your nourishment;
For Sadism to feed,
Upon masochism,
As a balance of power is established,
As we lose ourselves in fiery passion.
Dominance and Submission,
Forces meant to bond to the other,
In a marriage of infliction and reception,
Of blissful agony,
Accepting the temptations you direct,
Towards me as guide,
To obtain our darkest of fantasies.
Submission speaks out within,
The silence as I give you,
A proffered hand,
Succumbing to the sensual dreams,
You promise to me,
Allowing you to possess me in any way,
You wish in accordance to our terms.
May you indulge upon my form,
Like decadent candy you crave,
To devour,
Savoring every taste,
Sound, smell, and touch,
In this licentious dance between you,
My Master,
And me, your fervent lady,
Of submission.
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 5:18 PM UTC
How many chairs have we parked ourselves on,
side by side
in these 6,205 days of marriage?
Side by side at our wedding reception
principals’ offices
school graduations
courtrooms
funerals
new baby nurseries
counselors’ offices
new cars and
bars.
In lawn chairs
pews
rockers
couches
backseats and
airline seats.
The size and shapes of the imprints
we leave behind
changing over time.
The faces of others seated with us coming and going.
Always, we have tried to leave a trail of love,
like the slime of slugs and snails.
And for each other, an extra measure.
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 6:32 PM UTC
My god is love
Your god is God
I know it sounds odd
I wish to be cod
That swim through your veins
Until I go insane
Invading your mind
So I may know your kind
I have to tip my hat
When you say the world is flat
And I shift into a stiffer constitution
When you say you don't believe in evolution
My love is strictly fundamental
Our differences infinitesimal
I cannot deny
This temptation inside
This inflation of mine
I want to walk with you like Jesus
If in that moment you could freeze us
I'd believe forever
Through any endeavor
That two gods were merged
And true odds were purged
My life would be surged
Into perfection
By a reception
Love is a fabled fraud on the scene
Until I find a god in the machine
You heretically hide in between
Fields of green and wet dreams
Your smile takes me there
To realize we're no pair
So I become Cthulhu
In order to fool you
When you're the giant squid
And I'm just a kid
If I want to be caught in your tendrils
I'll have to work on my fundamentals
I dream of Athena
After you make Cupid look stupid
While holding a noose
With the power of Zeus
But I still want more
To hammer like Thor
Yet after all my plotting
I'm still frozen like Skadi
When I face a titanic task
I wear a panicked mask
Obtaining a reluctant martyr's luck
When my emotions run hot as ****
I face the wrath of god
Inside your cattle ****
So I wait like the Buddha
Wishing I never knew ya
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 5:09 AM UTC
I can make anybody pretty
I can make you believe any lie
I can make you pick a fight
With somebody twice your size
I been known to cause a few break ups
I been known to cause a few births
I can make you new friends
Or get you fired from Work
And since the day I left Milwaukee
Lynchburg and Bordeaux France
Been making the bars lots of big money
And helping white people dance
I got you in trouble in high school
But college, now that was a ball
You had some of the best times
You'll never remember with me
Alcohol
Alcohol
I got blamed at your wedding reception
For your best man's embarrassing speech
And also for those
Naked pictures of you at the beach
I've influenced kings and world leaders
I helped Hemmingway write like he did
And I'll bet you a drink or two that I can make you
Put that lampshade on your head
'Cause since the day I left Milwaukee
Lynchburg and Bordeaux France
Been making a fool out of folks just like you
And helping white people dance
I'm medicine and I am poison
I can help you up or make you fall
You had some of the best times
You'll never remember with me
Alcohol
Alcohol
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 3:41 AM UTC
Twisting thoughts of a bed left yearning
Stretching across sheets that thirst for a touch
Embracing blankets that cover your naked body
Taunting ****** outlines begging for me to clutch
Beckoning pillows call out as they frame a pretty face
Wandering thoughts as a dimming light begins the learning
Twisting, I shed the clothes left yearning
Stretching sheets smile as they accept my touch
Embracing blankets warm me with the heat of your body
Taunting shapes shift from two to one under a lover's clutch
Beckoning lips begin to prepare for the reception of your beautiful face
Wandering hands of ours begin their journey of ****** learning
Aug 4, 2011
Aug 4, 2011 at 6:03 PM UTC
Just me
No entertainment
No stimulation
Just me
Then you came by
And installed a cable
Sports, politics, comedy, education
You had a very decent package
500 channels to show me the world
I figured I'd stay home for the rest of my life
And enjoy the romComcast upon me
By the advent of your cables
But there was a destructive storm
Power lines were snapped
And our cable went out
As I stood in the ruins
Of a house that once stood majestic
All I worried about was getting our cable re-installed
So I waited
On your ****** service
My age
Became a Time Warner
And severed strings
Were strewn on the steel scattered around me
Now that I've become a satellite in your life
I could provide you with all the same channels
If you'd just look up
But the cumulus clouds you conjure
Block our reception
As I drift out here in space
I can see everybody on Earth
Except for one man
Who's surrounded by a sea of swirling tsunamis
And a crowd of cut cords
And as I approach the chaos for a better view
I'm incinerated entering his atmosphere
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 12:16 PM UTC
The Annual POCU Fashion Show held by the campus organization “People of Color United,” was held in the Student Activities Center on Saturday, April 18. The fashion show is the final activity of the year held by POCU. Junior Martell Prayear and senior Miranda Jackson were the show’s hosts and announcers.
The fashion show is a competition where various designers, or teams of designers, are required to create outfits that adhere to a general theme, but also incorporate the designer’s unique, personal concepts. This year, the general theme for the fashion show was: Thrift Shop. Each designer, or group of designers, was required to utilize clothes purchased from the local Goodwill and maintain a $50 budget. Preparations for the event, Jackson said, were very short. “I was really surprised how well it turned out, because we started practicing for the show at four o’clock that day,” Jackson said. “They typically start practicing way a head of time.” Despite the delayed preparation, the fashion show was an overall success. The first designer to present at the fashion show was Victoria Webster.
Webster’s fashion line was inspired by professional work attire. “I think it can be hard transitioning college wear into professional wear, on a budget,” Webster said of her outfits. Webster was able to find three models to wear the clothes, which she said was a combination of the model’s personal items, as well as those purchased through Goodwill. The second fashion line presented at the fashion show was designed by Iyana Lynch. For her personal theme, Lynch designed outfits that were inspired by the different seasons. The third designer to present that evening was Alyssa Nieset. Inspired by 90’s menswear, Nieset designed a line of androgynous outfits. The final clothing line presented was a team effort from: Jeanita Blue and Angel Powell.
Their theme was considered “90’s Reloaded,” and featured various throwbacks to 1990’s pop culture such as TLC and The Spice Girls. Blue said that most of the outfits in their fashion line were inspired by “eco-friendly fashion,” and were intended to decrease hesitation toward shopping at thrift stores. While the judges finalized the scores for each designer or team, the Urban Dance Association entertained the crowd with a quick performance. The judge’s scores resulted in a tie between Jeanita Blue & Angel Powell, and Iyana Lynch. Despite the general tie, Blue and Powell were awarded first place, while Lynch was granted second place. There was an off-campus reception held in Cleveland after the event. Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/purple-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/green-formal-dresses
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC
They say I can't chase you next
Can't seek out the moon over Mexico
or relive the tears I shed on the plane
home,
I can't feel the tirelessness of our forever
like the hope that dawned and set inside your eyes
I memorized every stitch in the broken couch
and I can still see us there
You're studying, I'm sleeping,
Planting rhubarb and watching our trees grow
Lightning shorted out the reception tower out back
As I sat on the end of our bed, mind blank, and laughed
All the glitter on the stone patio and the shirt left in the rain and the socks hung to dry on a hook you
Forgot
We kneaded pizza dough and watched Roseanne
That I jumped on you in the middle of the storm as you held me,
Kissing while UMF raged
In one loud, still moment
You are stopping me at the towel shack
Finding my legs under the restaurant table
Shoving my mittened hand in your pocket
Asking me to stay
Messaging me
and I know I'll chase you again
I just can't be with you now.
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
I lost you at the start of this inception
A process to change your haunted perception
Fight it, fake it,
Falling for my perfect deception
Do you have the mettle,
to allow this poison to settle?
Embrace this ugly infection
Sickness by forced injection.
For you don't have the strength to last
against the twisted demons of your past
With one lonely taste, the devil awakes
With the blood of angels, your lips are stained
You have fallen, sinner, lost all you've gained
Repent now? Too late!
There will be no objection
To this marriage of misconception
Your pain truly hides inside this illusion
My presence will only further push
your bending mind into seclusion
You haven't given me one silly reason
To lend you my hand
Is it your plan,
To continue onward with this treason?
Change? Unseen by the turning season
This was all a lie, you won't get by
This is where monsters come to die
I control this twisted dream,
The honorable seizin
Let me lead you to the stream
Where your ears can drown in haunting screams
We can rinse your lying lungs clean
Tear the tears from the obscene
To burn your eyes, a brutal reception
Savor the harshness of this deception
Apr 10, 2011
Apr 10, 2011 at 9:21 AM UTC
As the Paddles were used to stroke Against the Resistance of the Water, Thereby Attempting to insure their Progress, for the Ultimate Destination across the Mighty Ocean currents. Each stroke of the OARS met more resistance by the people manning the ship. The Sweat began to increase on each brow, But yet they Never gave up Their earnest Efforts. Even as the Winds increased and the Current became stronger,, They pressed on toward Their Destination. Each was Driven to Dig Deeper within themselves, For the Stroking had become Most Difficult!! But they were not Deterred... They knew that the Reception waiting for them on the other side, Would be worth every bit Of Effort. They Had to Endure!! As they kept their focus on the ultimate Goal,,They remained Undisturbed by the Leaks, Broken Oars, Strong Currents, Ever Increasing Winds AND Shouts of Dismay among the weak. The waves began to break over the Bows of the Boat, But the OARS DUG DEEPER and Deeper, Drawing them ever so Closer to the Shoreline that NOW came into view.. Having seen the Shoreline, A Great Surge of Energy came upon Each Person as they STROKED FORWARD. EACH person continued to the the Very End,, With that very Unusual Smile on his face and a special kind of light in in His Eye. *KNOWING FULL WELL How great the Ultimate Goal would BE. Are You prepared for the Proper use of "YOUR OARS" ??
Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 5:00 AM UTC
Walking into the Reception Hall,
they stole the show away,
A regal pair they were,
with a little bit of Butch
and Sundance swagger shown.
A confident air, not at all underserved.
Dressed with just enough elegance.
Their posture and hue ,
sleek and silky golden,
like a duet of Cheetahs.
Eyes alert and searching
for prey. Alert for danger.
Like a herd of antelope,
all heads turned to look,
The men perhaps out of desire,
the women staring envy at them,
Like the twin bores of a loaded gun.
Mother and fetching daughter,
From twenty feet, hard to tell
which, one was one, or the other.
Long blond hair, full and fine,
both women tall, statuesque,
moving with grace and ease.
The mother my old friend,
the daughter all grown up now,
each having a smile that would
light up anyone's darkness of mood.
We greeted one another,
hugs and hand shakes shared.
A little conversation in the crowded room,
Many pairs of eyes upon us there.
Enchanted is the word that best describes
my impression, this duo as intelligent and
charming as they were beautiful to see.
The mother sedate, classy and yet open
and free, no pretense, no games just naturally
at ease. As lovely as I remembered her to be.
Her offspring, vivacious, spirited and bold,
smart as whip, with a tongue that could
draw blood if she desired it to.
Chatty and funny, sure of herself,
in the manner of beautiful people,
yet not in a pompous way, merely
Confident in self and her place in the world.
She possessed all the character traits you
would wish your own daughter to have.
Her Mother had done well is raising her.
Too soon they moved on,
meeting and greeting others',
out of my hearing and seeing.
Some weeks have passed, a month or two
and yet their strong impression has lingered,
I can't keep them out of my mind.
The Mother, my friend most of all.
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 3:11 PM UTC
Surrounded by friends
A welcoming hug lingers
Filled with what ifs
Uncomfortable for some
Warmly welcomed by others
Conversations fueled by
Wine, beer, and martinis
The comfort of acceptance
Non-judgmental reception
Imagining what’s not said
Some thoughts you can read
Others arise unbidden tongue-tied
Accidental truth shared
Sheltered by laughter
We retell our practiced stories
Not noticing the kind
I’ve-heard-it-before looks
Oh to hear the late night summaries
The evenings score card
We sway from oh so silly to
Pugnacious
We may have crossed lines
We never saw and wouldn’t have cared
If we did
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 12:59 PM UTC
when no objective is best for our protection
protecting ourselves would be the best direction
directing ourselves toward a progressive connection
connecting our minds to make a collective correction
correcting the obsessions that infect our perception
perceiving ourselves as the essence of conception
conceiving a brand new perspective of reception
receiving the blessing that we call perfection
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 7:00 PM UTC
Took a short walk
after nightfall
while the pavement was still
warm to the touch
The moon was calling my name
and so I walked until
I could see her face
Radiant among
the stars
She wore a dress the
color of muted sunshine
in place of her usual
silver
and
when
I
saw her there
smiling down
on me
so full of the
joys of
eternal youth
and twilight
journeys,
I sailed up to the stars
and became the sun
waiting , with my
eyes on her
The people below watch us
dance
and catch rides on shooting
stars to be closer to our
disco ball reception
The stars in the night sky,
our honeymoon
Jun 5, 2012
Jun 5, 2012 at 12:51 AM UTC
JIMMY large nose natural hipster totally informed clever funny sincere yet aloof
JOEY tall tan lanky physique long thick brown hair in braid striking good looks yet self-unaware
SHANNON athletic build attractive brunette accomplished poet so good she doesn’t need to prove it emotional sensitive tough
ANNE Joni Mitchell good looks bohemian self-effacing impulsive submissive *****
ACT 1 scene 1
a deserted chic indie reception area somewhere present 8:30 PM
JIMMY (singling out Anne) you’re so beautiful i want you so bad
ANNE oh yeah you’re sweet to say that
JIMMY i mean it you symbolize hope inspiration in me
ANNE hope? oh god
Anne looks away runs fingers through her hair
JIMMY hear that song over the speakers?
ANNE yeah
JIMMY it’s “Home” Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes very cool check out rough trade east version on youtube
ANNE yeah right
Anne blows air out her nose looks away in Shannon’s direction
SHANNON (singling out Joey) do you read?
JOEY yeah some
SHANNON what are you currently reading?
JOEY uh a text about economic international relations
SHANNON hmmm interesting do you ever read literature or poetry?
JOEY nah not much
SHANNON like movies?
JOEY yeah sure some
SHANNON what’s you’re favorite movies?
JOEY “The Devil Wore Prada” “Eddie” “I’m Not There” i don’t know there are tons of movies i enjoy
SHANNON interesting
JOEY i need to ask Jimmy something excuse me
Joey walks across area to Jimmy
JOEY that western shirt looks so cool on you
JIMMY thanks yeah it’s a hip shirt what up dude?
JOEY oh god Shannon is hitting on me she’s way too full of herself way too available
JIMMY hmmm nice toned body bet she’s a tiger in the hay
JOEY not interested
JIMMY me neither but i could be persuaded honestly i’m blown away with Anne
Anne approaches Shannon
ANNE Jimmy is a conceited **** he thinks he’s so cool Shannon you look so beautiful this evening your hair complexion
SHANNON funny I felt so blah all day what did Jimmy say to you? he’s not my type but not so bad if only he had Joey’s looks Joey’s shy sweetness look at Joey over there his eyes lips he’s so **** I think I’m falling in love and yet i recognize falling in love requires a huge territory of untried tolerance
Anne’s fingers stealthily pocket Shannon’s tortoise-shell comb while Shannon observes Joey fawning over Jimmie across room
ACT 2
refer to ACT 1 scene 1
Jul 3, 2010
Jul 3, 2010 at 6:15 AM UTC
If you look up
Is it there?
All I see is air
Why do I raise
my arms up
hoping that God
hears my prayer
Is it some kind
of wicked game
we play ?
I never dreamed
I would meet
someone like you
What a deception
fast of feet
What a reception
so incomplete
I raise my
empty hands up
asking God
"Where is my love ?"
Sep 16, 2025
Sep 16, 2025 at 1:43 AM UTC
Under this canopy
of dark
gleaming stars
I now sit
allow my body
to take residence
in the aura
of my own
glowing
let thoughts
of reason
slowly unravel
until they
become
one
long
thread
connecting my
mind but
releasing it
to the air
Molecules, like
the tiniest of crystals,
gently whir
energetically
about me
in almost
invisible stirrings
letting the power
of energy centers
take over:
Red,
for my root
for I am
tethered
to this earth
Orange, for
the passion
so strong
and truly knowing
my own worth
Yellow, for
my gut,
instincts open
and a-light
expanding into
universes, broadening
my sight
Then my heart
washed through and through
in shades of green
its own incandescence
filled with verdant,
fiery sheens
It beats a lantern
of vitality
in this ocean of pain
sending a beacon in
the darkness
helping to break old,
patterns
prompt them to
snap like rusty chains
Here it pumps in growth of
leafy, budding light
Guiding my spirit
in ripeness full and bright
I rise up
into the
indigo-turquoise
of my throat
as words burst forth
in surges,
in the salty froth
of ocean spirals
they float,
get pulled by
mysterious urges
Like waterfall mist
just kissing
the tips of eyelash
flickers
these words that
have the power
to calm
or make my blood
run quicker
And then:
the deep purple
of my crown
that tapers into
a shimmering white
and I know
I can now
receive myself,
calm, in queenly
presence of mind
of spirit
in my highest
form of
light
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 3:39 AM UTC
*I don't know the rules. If I go looking
for grace and find it, what will grace*
be but penance for my past, a silver
sinew-thread wrapping 'round old
wrongs, gray hair for the
fickle.
I've naught but want for sweet release
from this history. The bombs ignored,
repeating in gramophone static
dripping stiff
*as wet bamboo. I remember someone
once sang here, once strung together*
chords so sweet they rang like peace-
bells beneath cloudless sky. They've
rang the bell upon my jaw and
done no wrong.
It's not so much unlike one's curiously
cold reception at a funeral. The cold
and rain ****** at the skin
during graveside hymnal.
*As long as the earth continues
its stony breathing I will breathe.*
That which I cannot help but do.
Stuck between boulders, I sing.
*When it stops, I will shatter back
into gravity. Into quartz.*
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 9:54 PM UTC
We sat outside the coffee shop
next to a fire,
watching the sun set behind decrepit buildings.
I lamented over the lack of a roller rink in the area,
reflecting on memories of wobbling around in circles
with dizzying lights and blaring speakers
ejecting Pink, Daft Punk, and Eiffel 65 onto my critical youth.
I felt like a king.
We finished our smoothies and retreated
to an empty hotel parking lot,
where I taught her to skateboard.
One foot over the front bolts,
the back foot over two of the back bolts
but resting over the tail,
kick, push,
it's in the ***** of your feet--
weight distribution.
Tic, tac, scrape, thud--
she falls repeatedly
and gets back up.
I admire her resilience and perpetual smile--
This is what skateboarding is all about.
We roll around the hotel parking lot,
our endpoints being a lone luminescent lamppost
and a telephone pole beleaguered by a plot of shrubbery
that demarcates itself from the pavement.
We circle around the poles for hours,
forming an imaginary oblong track between the two,
our laughs carrying into the cool summer night lullaby
that sang the drowsy small town to sleep.
The fading throb of the wedding reception
at the bottom of the town square by the wharf,
carrying over to us.
The stores closed up hours ago,
silent empty windows reflecting the lonely streetlights
and our ambulance back at us.
We skated on unperturbed into the night hour.
A man walks outside the hotel
to have a cigarette on the sidewalk--
I imagine he is watching us and admiring our glee.
Rolling between this telephone pole and lamppost,
the glare and reflection of the empty silent windows,
the soundtrack singing above our heads,
our laughs, and the tic-tac of skateboards
and groaning of wheels over stubborn pavement
bringing my melancholic reverie to a halt,
recognizing and understanding happiness in the present moment--
This is my roller rink.
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 1:13 AM UTC