Anthony Williams Jul 2014

You licked your lips
I lip synced to you
you licked your stamp
I felt I might be cornered
you stamped your gift
I'm stuck on you
we got stuck in
strokes
smoothing down
you stamped your mark on me
delivered
lips to lips
striking
we stuck to it
no
we aren't stuck with it
but on each other
tampering
peeling off
licking our lips

by Anthony Williams
Keiko Larrieux Feb 2010

Forever entangled
In every aspect
Of paper pampered baskets

Silicon words
Status dripping
From the print preserved.

Calling his name
He believes.
He is deserved.

Raj Arumugam Sep 2010

I’m a stamp -
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp” -
but I am a stamp
a postage stamp, that is;
unique and proud, in my own class,
for I’ve carried queens and kings and emperors
(I still do)
and I carry Presidents and Poets and Rock Kings
and Pop Kings
and Musicians and Legends and Heroes
and Gods and Nations;
and I carry sexy blondes
and old dames who’ve dedicated their lives to others

I’ve borne with no complaints
the weight of genius
and soldiers and founders of nations
and martyrs; and I do not discriminate
and with like gusto and color
I’ve carried tyrants and murderers and charlatans
and once-were-legends now the shamed;
and look, I can encompass the universe
and within the shapes formed by my perforations
I’ve held together flowers and birds
and all wonders of nature
I am each a poem, a work of art
I’m a stamp -
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp”
(What? You heard me the first time, did you?
Well, I’ll say it again for emphasis!) -
but I am a stamp in my own right, unique and proud -
though, I acknowledge,
the image of Royalty or Heroism or Greatness has
not saved me from various knocks and hard presses
and the rubbish bin!
But then, so have mighty royal heads rolled!
but look, hee…heee….heee…
I can be absolutely adorable,
and I just love, love it when you lick me;
and often too
I’m a collector’s item
increasing in value, and even with artistic merit -
though no doubt, there are countless with no idea
of how so darling precious I am
which is I why
I say proudly again:
I’m a stamp
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp”
(And what? Why do I repeat myself?
Well, there are thousands of copies
of one issue, aren’t there?) -
but I am a stamp in my own right, unique and proud
and I’ve created worlds all of my own
with pen pals and commerce
and industries and clubs round me;
and I’m not alone, you know,
well-supported by relatives
like prepaid postal envelopes, post cards,
letter cards, aerogrammes
all of us served loyally
by unquestioning Gurkha-style postmen and women;
and I’ve brought hearts and minds together
and I do it in a day or days and or weeks
and if I feel like it, I even arrive decades later! –
and there’s nothing you can do about it!
And oh yes, I can see, you’re prone to neglecting me -
you ungrateful scoundrels! -
first replacing me with cold
Franking Machines,
and cheap, unimpressive, unimaginative franking marks
and with postage meters
imprinting an indicia;
and all of you now
deriding my world as snail pace
in your world of instant e-mails -
but I persist, and I still am of much use
for - listen carefully -
and I say proudly again:
I’m a stamp
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp” -
but I am a stamp in my own right, unique and proud;
and if you, once in a while,
want to show me your loyalty –
come to a local post office and lick my royal butt!

Haunter Apr 2012

Whoops,
I done
bit
the apple too.
Guess,
I'll go
swing-dancing
on the blame scale
with Ever & The Serpent now.

I just want to go
dancing.
Tramp-stamp style.
All I need
is a steady pole
to dance on.
Hello, Wednesday nights.
Pass me the fifth
please.
I wanna get belligerent & cocky.

When I was younger
I stood there waiting.
I stood there,
Waiting for someone who would not come,


Back,


Against the cold damp wall I stood,
As an unwanted postage stamp,


Forgotten,


Waiting to be remembered.
I watched,
As I stood there.

Meg Howell Jan 2015

Enveloped by mixed emotions
Just put a stamp on me and mail me out
Maybe not

MdAsadullah Jan 2016

Their obsession to conquer.
Their ancient desire to subdue.
They utilize every opportunity;
And stamp me with their shoe.

A fact they should have known.
Long ago I lost all my thrust.
With the passage of time.
I have turned into dead dust.

Calmness is all what I needed.
Only if they had left me alone.
Like dust I would settled down.
Without force subdued on my own.

However, they stamp me repeatedly.
Big-chested, Arrogant guys!
But the more they stamp me,
The more like dust I rise.

She was a friend of Amber Clark
You know, you've met her before
She's the girl who listens secretly
To Bach behind the door
The Closet Classic Junkie
Who wears shirts of the Ramones
But listens to Rachmaninov
whenever she's alone

Jennifer McSweeney
known by all upon the street
She had kind words for everyone
She liked everyone she'd meet
She ate meals at Giannis
Knew the Pawnbroker, Old Cy
She listened to the bluesman
Whenever she came by

Like all the folks upon the street
Jennifer was dark
Not gothic, but you could say grey
She was set to make her mark
She was going to be famous
Her face upon the Silver Screen
She was going to be a movie star
Like The Truck Stop Beauty Queen

Jennifer loved movies
Not the ones that can be found
At the local dvd store
She liked the movies without sound
Her little quirk was that she
Liked the movies from the start
They told tales in black and white
These were strong in Jenni's heart

Buster Keaton, Harold Lloyd
Fatty Arbuckle, and more
Zasu Pitts, Charlie Chase
They struck her to her core
L and H, The Keystone Kops
She loved to see them grapplin'
But none of these compared to her
deep love for Charlie Chaplin

The Cineplex would show a film
They would host a special week
When silent movies were the shows
When nobody did speak
Jennifer would take the time
To watch each film they showed
She was so happy when the week came round
She positively glowed

The kids she knew, all thought her odd
Because of what she liked
But, when the silent week was here
Jennifer was psyched
One year she went to the next town
To get a small tattoo
It was all done up in black and grey
It was what she had to do

Like other girls who have been inked
It was in the same place
But, it was little, very non descript
Of her favorite actors face
She told few friends about it
And though she never did get violent
If you laughed at her tattoo
Like Chaplin, she'd be silent

She kept it to herself most times
Her little bit of ink
As she aged she'd show it more
For the cost of just one drink
She would take them to her bedroom
And by the light of her small lamp
She would show her tattoo proudly
Chaplin....her little tramp stamp

It's the thing that she is known for
She's the girls with Charlie's face
Where others all have Chinese Words
She has Chaplin in this place
She is known for loving movies
In black and white, and though it's camp
She gives a whole new meaning to
Having a tramp stamp.

My Name Here Jun 2011

Today. I was almost hit by a car,
wearing a scarlet dress
the way I least wanted to die
by the grill of an SUV.
The engine grinned hotly in my face.
the look on his face was priceless
I bet mine was better.
as I gasped, no room in
vocal cords for screaming
held my hands out
as if that would stop the metal from moving
tires screeched.
I don't know why he turned so sharply
I don't know why I put my arms out
or had to walk that way
that particular day
my hands shook  in line
at kinkos, holding back every chemical
mixing violently.
saying please and thank you
for two sheets of paper
that could have mattered less
pulling sunglasses
over my face with a case of the shakes

life just stamped me with an appreciation
for itself
only taught by almost getting hit by an SUV.

life went on around me, the workers in yellow on the corner
got a few moments of thrill.
the folks at Starbucks
the other people grinding their teeth at the stoplights.
a moment excitement.

Kq Apr 2013

You do this thing
Where you look at the side of my face
Or some other random part of my flesh
When I am speaking

I know you are listening
And if I catch you
You look away sheepishly

At first
I thought you to be socially awkward
But then I became extremely self conscious
"Do I have a blemish?"

Then it occurred to me
That you were doing the same thing I always do
Taking a person in

You were memorizing every part of me
And branding it into your mind

And in this moment
You transformed in front of my eyes
And your insides seemed to spill out in front of me

I understood you
and accepted you
and you were beautifully ignorant
To all of this occurring right before you

And that made the realization all the more enchanting

Kevin Fr Sep 2015

I wish to be
postage stamp,
so I can travel
the world with
no
boundaries.

Chris Neilson Mar 29

I stared into the face of the man in the mirror
looking older than the Penny Black stamp today
lines and creases of years of wearisome worry
anti ageing creams won't help or soothe them away

Sailed the passage of time laden with luggage
never left in the hold or put on hold
a burdensome voyage of unnecessary anxiety
the mirrored reflection a pitiful sight to behold

She tenses
I sense her,
she bids me
to enter,
I defer
to her
will.

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