"sleeker" poems
you curl your fingers around the nape of the
passenger seat and the cold
metal stings but you can feel the
ghost of the prey brush your body
like the streetlights on the backseat last night
before you clutched the headrest and
you reach in the dark but
your hands miss the leather
the warm body heat of the car
thrumming up beneath you slams
your head into the dashboard where
the light turns from a bruised yellow to a crippled red
you are awake again
the steering wheel is cooler than you remember
smoother, sleeker, stealthy the wheel
will turn the predator around in a circle because
it seems to mimic itself where
in mimicry it is found
oh tyger tyger simmering out
you drive.
the gear shift does not obey when you
push it up rough and messy but it
locks in gear while you
wrap your fingers around the curve
and grind to a halt in the road
you cannot make this cliff.
the light in the dash blinks.
the trunk is opening and the vehicle is still moving
you roll down your window to ask the night a question in the glazed white of moonlight that is
so much like forgetting
_will this road take me back to Del Sol and the Girl Who Lost Her Lover on Route 66?_
she doesn't respond but
that is okay because the vehicle is still moving
and the leather is slick between your thighs
and you are going down
tonight you will descend.
the night will draw you home.
goodnight lover.
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 8:00 PM UTC
Briefly, I glimpsed a lone tiger today.
Felt her presence at distance, as she
smoothed bristled fur... with
rough tongue!
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 6:47 AM UTC
my, my
what a world we live in
where plastic's worth more than food.
because it makes entertainment,
and we thrive from it.
where screens dictate our lives
absorbing us, our deepest secrets
then displaying them to the world
limiting our emotions
to keystrokes.
and it doesn't matter how big that screen is.
we like em smaller and sleeker
so that not even a second is spent in real conversation.
they say they're sparking creativity?
i say they're sparking narcissm.
they're creating conformity
as if we havent had enough.
my, my
what a revolution
where we witness de-evolution
from ape, to human, to...
selfabsorbed, stressful, sub-human species?
Mar 14, 2012
Mar 14, 2012 at 11:35 PM UTC
Bellicose beer-belled bad-asses
Bawdily belting down brewskies
Usually, boozily, bruisily beating
On weaker, sleeker funseekers
In the bar where they are, far
From anything like maturity
Hip hip hooray for unhip USA.
Ballyhooing big screen viewing
Myopic eyes watch others exercise
Freedom-hating grouch on a couch
Itching, ******** psoriasis and sloth
Unread armchair Brother of the Cloth.
One of the minions of opinions,
Hardened against morality, reality.
Saying it every day: USA, USA, USA!
Hating, bating, aggravating, skating
Right past solutions, conclusions
Preferring propaganda, ***** Miranda,
Stop mollycoddling, bottling up anger
Christ in the manger should be law
But they guffaw at reading The Book;
They took their religion from TV.
Freedom for me, not thee, in my USA.
Got mine, ***** yours, rights immune;
That tune don’t play here. No queers
No browns, yellows, Hindus or Jews.
I’ve got news you can use, I abuse
And oppress guys in a dress, yes!
Even if he’s white, it still ain’t right.
The Constitution is old, it just teases.
Mine is Republican Jesus for the USA.
A pigeon for old time religion and God
Everyone else is odd. I saw the movie.
It was groovy and pretty. Went to the city
Saw it in Imax, no blacks in the theater
Thanks to The Creator that gave us all
The intelligence to call things right.
Hip hip hooray for being lily white.
Hip hip hooray for the KKK USA.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 3:47 PM UTC
It’s a warm rush.
Talking to you,
Thinking about you.
I feel these things, feelings, stirring in me.
These things, feelings, all feel right:
Nothing there but you,
Me,
And a right
Feeling.
These thoughts,
Emotions,
Fill me up,
And are barely expelled for the fear of the unknown.
But with you there is no fear.
But with you there is all fear.
It’s a warm rush.
Getting lost in you,
Finding a purer me,
Coming together to shame the stars’ lack of brilliance.
I’m allured to the point of no return.
It’s okay,
I prefer to drift away in your deep sea anyways.
It’s a warm rush.
Similar to the aftermath of alcohol:
Sleek,
Warm,
And tingly.
Potentially dangerous, but you indulge just for the thrill of the effect.
However with you,
It’s a sleeker feeling.
A warmer feeling.
The tingly sensation circles my body, runs all over,
And feels almost as perpetual as the bottles gone through.
You’ll always be more dangerous,
As dangerous to the point where it’s necessary to keep exploring in order to find the perfect balance between beauty and madness.
But that sliver of madness is so appealing;
I keep chasing and chasing and chasing,
Realizing I’m just dreaming in circles, but not shifting direction.
It’s a warm rush.
I never want to forget the rush.
Please don’t forget the rush.
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 7:18 PM UTC
I have a new, jaunty bob,
And there's a stranger in the mirror.
Last time you saw me I had a short crop and a kiss curl.
Do I seem softer now, with my sleeker bangs?
Would you like the new look?
Would the change help us to move from the past?
You could pretend I'm someone different,
That the sharp cropped siren is someone else, long gone.
It might draw you in again.
That's not what I'm aiming for, and yet...
I'd be lying if I said that I hope you wouldn't like it,
And what does it matter?
You're gone. You will never again see
Any part of me.
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 8:28 AM UTC
You hoped for a mansion
but all you got was a ruined house,
abandoned, without care.
It was not what you expected.
A kind of wildness has crept into you-
unpredictable, you have become too slippery for me.
But I'm not concerned with that right now.
I'm too intent on pressing my nose to the window,
fogging the glass with my breath,
(Weird how this cracked pane bends the light)
trying to decipher your contours
as you snake away in stony silence,
halting abruptly at the iron gate
where the grazing pasture seems greener,
much sleeker than your own.
Someday soon, you'll give up your crazy meanderings.
Heed my words!
But not yet-
not until I shatter you.
copyright © Caroline Grace 2014
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
The old t.v. sleeps in the alley
It was thrown out a few nights ago
Once, it was the center
The the corner stone of a family
Now, its screen is cracked
as it is prostrate, in gravel
It cries, but the family ignores the tears
They are too busy, installing a new one
A slimmer, sleeker, more distinguished
Television to replace the other
The new t.v. sits in the center
Blissfully unaware that he too
will be thrown out
In a matter of months
I see the old, weeping t.v.
And i know that I too
Will be thrown away
And left to weep
In a matter of time
Jul 26, 2010
Jul 26, 2010 at 6:59 AM UTC
Canyons always evoke a sense of picturesque excitement of nature,
Slot canyons elevate the thrill several notches by their sheer stature,
They are found in many parts of the world in areas with low rainfall,
Often described as long narrow drainageways, with sheer rock walls
Rock walls are typically eroded into sandstone or other sedimentary rock,
Depth-to-width ratios increasing even ten-fold should come as no shock,
Slot canyons can be subject to flash flooding - a typical characteristic,
Unique soil compositions, differing from the drier uplands, are realistic
Nature's wondrous creation can be seen in the Upper Antelope Canyon,
Water and time have eroded the rock, turning it into a slot canyon,
The transition to formation of smooth flowing rock is incredible,
As if nature willed the breathtaking interior to be truly impeccable
Arizona's Antelope Canyon was formed over time by erosion of red sandstone,
Centuries of flash flooding and intermittent wind resulted in this keystone,
The narrow passageway leads several hundred feet away from the opening,
The gorgeous photogenic sloping of the rocks is a sight worth mentioning
In local lingo, the Navajos call this "the place where water runs through rocks",
Come monsoon, rainwater gushes into the narrow passageways, round the clock,
The passageways are eroded over time making the corridors get more deeper,
Hard rock edges smoothen with characteristic flowing shapes, that look sleeker
A stark feature is the shafts of sunlight radiating down from the canyon top,
The effect is most pronounced during summer, with action almost nonstop,
The light shafts illuminate pink, orange and gold patterns on the canyon walls,
Winter colors are a tad more muted, but still a sight for visitors to enthrall
It's a common sight to see visitors jostling for vantage points for photoshoots,
Tourist guides revel in clicking group photos with free advertising to boot,
Every turn and steps ahead provide an unique exhilarating experience,
Exclamations of awe and wonder that fill the air, befit the ambience
As the 4x4 AWD vehicle drives you back at the end of the slot canyon visit,
Rapturous memorable visuals of the stunning canyon interior are hard to desist,
Witnessing one of nature's marvels leaves an euphoric feeling of being perennial,
Poetic encomium would do little justice to the canyon's beauty, that feels surreal
Mar 16, 2025
Mar 16, 2025 at 7:35 PM UTC
We did it, we finally really did it,
we blew it up.
The clock stops ticking as the silence of
electricity runs through it.
Monsters of industry stop at the hand
of a symbolic clock.
Conflict from the East and West
has brought Armageddon to our door.
A confident young leader of the East
and an arrogant business man of the West,
helped by a horseman of the North
have by their hand taken mankind to the stone age.
Instruments of peace are built to send a message
of hate, fear and promise of destruction.
Instruments once used in a final and unforgettable
effort for peace in sleeker times.
Not having learnt from two examples
we march onwards into Judgement Day.
The young Leader from the East now sits
scared, retreating into his power and dead vision.
The confidence now sits with the West as they
enter the East, coming to claim what they can.
The deck is played with one last final card in
the hands of the East, a regretful one.
Ten plus five places are to experience the
beginning of the end first.
The last card is played,
the last card mankind will ever play.
Metropolis goes silent in an instead,
civilization turns to somber ashes.
Words in whispers are spoken in
loss, desperation, pain and remembrance.
As the former things of the world
have passed away into ashes and particles.
A psychological hell land lays ahead as
men with sticks and stones approach.
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 8:23 AM UTC
Walking along the ridge between two mountains
The air is cool and crisp, and everything that leaps up to get me
Falls to one side or the other
I grow lither, stronger, sleeker, with every step
My voice strengthens and develops new tones, new depth
As I try to sing over the wind
Only I can hear, but I’m safe and comfortable
As I get better and better
I love it here
Amongst the clouds,
Whose vaporous and vague substance
Can sustain me on a diet of airy water
Always available to carry me along
Through the nebulous but constant
Sky.
And the night that falls
Makes me think of all the lights to grab for
The short time I have
The multitude of choices
The renewal
After the pacing movements
And swirling thoughts
Of day
When I look ahead
Knowing I’ll see everything if I keep walking
But the uniform trees and rocks
Obscure the view, keep it secret
I’ll keep stepping
My strides and voice enough to entertain me forever
As they would were I in the wild
I think the wild is here…..
Within and all around me
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 11:51 PM UTC
Falling so deep in thoughts , as I drown in this ocean of pain & streams of sorrows ; thinking of the horrors which await me at the end.
Suffocating but not from water ; the depression which holds me down & puts me down to a coma where I sleep only seeing flashes & shadows of pain & hurt .
Something about this pain is new it cuts deeper & enters sleeker than the blade he used before. Also the screams are getting louder & walls are closing in ; he honestly can't win .
Overcoming every battle which came before but this one is unbeatable; don't waste tears on him as he faces his fears trying once more but gives up in the end .
Hating will be factor , pain will be a virtue , crying becomes a hobby & loneliness his home view .
In short order he'll fall & begin to question why again ; then the silence begins killing him softer than the words lied "I love you " which came to his ears over & over again .
~Chilled
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 11:38 PM UTC
I love HER
like my spine she supports my day
She is cool but hot tempered
She doesn’t care about life full of her spirit
The ego in her pushes her through all the pain
She’s never sad ,smiling to every soul
She has the world on her feet as she stands ,
Her sight makes even the devil stop tormenting lost souls,
She’s stronger even than the devil quicker than lightening sleeker than an eel,
Soft like sleek sounds like an angel,
Cooler than icebergs shining like stars ,
Ooh she has this character that **** my manners ,
And also she has everything on her hands she raises dead hopes ,
I’ve never seen her cry but I guess she’s got eyes like marble maybe when she cries they sparkle ,
She has this sweet face but a heart of a lion,
I’m now a puppet for her I’d **** ,
Maybe she’s ahead of her time,she should prolly wait,
She’s Salem’s finest she has bewitched me,
In the midst of all this she got a cold heart,
Does she love?
Does she see me?
I know I said I only needed my mama and my mental health but she broke it all,
I crave for a cuddle,like a baby sleep in her arms,
Who’s her crush?
Who’s her crew?
What does she like?
Do I look good to her or Thanos phenomenon blinds her?
What has she been through?
Is it luck or just one of my tempters?
She has assassinated my heart ,
I can’t love a wrong person but if it’s her take me in ,
But I ain’t lucky so it’s just a dream and long it will pass but I long for a chance
May the world say yes and my heart win her soul
BUT DOES SHE LOVE???
Sep 13, 2019
Sep 13, 2019 at 1:35 PM UTC