"toweled" poems
the early riser guider, pastel orb of high color value,
looks askance at the two men watching it,
for fresh and clean, it, the sun, from
the horizon born and bathed and toweled blue terry sky dry
the men, well they stinkin'
from body sweat hikin' and grease and drinkin'
Mr. Coffee and cheap *****
an expensive high, when next day payback comes due
but none better for inspire to hire and
merging men's alternative verses writ in alternating styles,
trading stanzas under a lighting-felled inspiration tree,
waiting for that insightful light that comes too brief
how can it be each thinks, that tho never in the flesh met,
thank to Mr. Coffee and cheap *****
the bond just gets stronger every day way,
the poetry better with each sippin',
as many rivers confluent on their way home
to the slightly jealous observing Pacific sea,
the original mother lode of all creation,
well, She says:
*"boys,
good job and good luck remembering anything
and getting home safe and sound!"*
to which we drink a toast of Mr. Coffee and cheap *****
and it ocurs to one, perhaps both,
this is kinda a love poem after all
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 11:15 AM UTC
Holidays--everyone should reconnect
even with people you see everyday but
never speak to because you can tell
you won't like them...
show them some sunshine and brighten their day
overheard while showering in the women's locker room:
"How's the baby?" "He's four and a half."
Whoops
"Hows Max?"
"He's in Rehab, he's not coaching"
"Ah,oh, ah"
Clothed, she rushes for the door
Continuation with another as I toweled off
"The pool at Concord is cold" "is not" "is" "is not" "well, the air there is cold"
(it's' only five minutes away from here)
Let's try this again, shall we? "So what do you do? I mean, besides swim?"
"I go to water aerobics in the morning
then I swim, then I pick up my kids and swim again. And we had a party and some doctors came over (she looks around, especially at my less than perfect physique,
she is about to expel a naughty, bad word that should never meet the ears of polite company
her eyes are red and look like they will fall out of their sockets
like those little ****** dogs
My friend the vet said one's eyeball fell out during an operation
So he put it back
she's roughly my age, but she has a natural tan in the middle of winter
and the sun has written it's thin lined signature all over her face creating the look
of a satellite image of an area once filled with rivulets of water,
but now experiencing a severe drought
but she truly is 99% fat free)
and they were...OBESE. Can you believe it?"
L'horror.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 3:20 PM UTC
Hey, mom,
Aren’t the stars gorgeous tonight?
They remind of the days when
You turned off my light.
Every night, I remember,
You would tuck me into bed
Plug in my night light and
Plant a kiss on my head.
Wow, mom…
Wasn’t it such a long time ago
When my baby sister and I
Came in the house from the snow?
We were always dripping wet,
You toweled us down and hugged us tight.
Hot cocoa was always ready for us,
The temperature always just right.
So, mom,
Please know we forgive you and dad
It’s not your fault we didn’t
Have everything others had.
The divorce was a good thing,
We know that, trust me,
It’s just that it was scary
Not knowing what would be.
Hey, mom?
Thank you for bringing us home.
For giving us a house
And free space to roam.
These plains and skies are spacious
The air we breathe is clean,
I’m grateful for the life we have.
Thanks for everything.
And, mom…
Do you remember move-in day?
After we unpacked my things,
I told you that you didn’t need to stay…
The truth is, mom, I cried like a kid,
When you pulled out of the parking lot.
All the courage that I thought I had,
Well, I guess it was lost.
Really, mom,
I hope you know how much I love you.
I want you know that I appreciate
All the little things you do.
I want to take this time to apologize,
For all the hurt that I’ve brought to you.
I know raising me wasn’t the easiest,
So I’m sorry for all that I’ve put you through.
Lastly, mom,
I’m glad that you found our stepdad.
He’s always been here,
Through the happy and sad.
Yes, we all complain about our mixed family,
The house might not be clean…
But in reality, we all love each other.
What else do we really need?
Hey, mom,
It’s okay. Please stop crying…
This is a happy moment.
I love you so much! I’m not lying!
Thank you for all that you’ve given me.
Thank you for believing in me.
We’ve lived and learned together,
That’s all we really need.
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 2:18 AM UTC
sodden cheeks
drenched in sorrow's repine
the drops fell
with a saddening gush
little by little
the sides of the
face felt less wet
as the air of solace
toweled the harrowed skin
for an age
drab raining clouds
prevailed
each day the tourment
of loss being there to
remind
of a suffering ache
of the stress in agony
of the constant wailing
not on the wane
out of the dark pall
of demise
emerges
the bright sun's light
reconciling
the hours of grief
Apr 18, 2021
Apr 18, 2021 at 8:02 PM UTC
Sitting staring at the swirls gently engraved upon the ceiling,
feeling faintly pessimistic that my hateful heart is healing.
Take apart the grace and art,
reveal my dated darkened past,
to harken back on wasted hours casting plaster for this mask.
It's cloudy colors cover up my crowded stream of conscience,
these teeming constants split between omitted and accomplished,
Scenes of trips and speeding fits
replaced by cleaner blips in truth
gleaning pictures of achievement, disconstruing youth uncouth.
Tall tales tinker with the crawling skin wherein my twin is toweled,
howling, hinting with appalling twitches, calling crying foul!
Small disguise in sprawling lies,
ensheathed, forestalling prying guests,
deflects the scrutinizing eyes of stressing restless wrecks.
My cranium co-ordinates claims stripped of contradiction,
wont to stitch the hidden patch on flaunted fabric fiction.
A daunting task, avaunt, at last,
concealed from haunting static force,
hiding flaws in paths of virtue drawn in divorced source and course.
Holding heaving out a haze, a cloud of extravented high,
sighs surrendered to the evening see my gracious ember die.
Praise condemns these sacred friends
with whom I stray from rendered paths,
preventing brash impatience from detaching this black mask.
Apr 13, 2011
Apr 13, 2011 at 3:00 AM UTC
I lost the rhythm of my heart
when my toes curled over those
chemically white grooves of
safety and bleach-ridden tile.
tightly, I wrung my right hand through your hair,
while the left imposed on your hip.
light sprinted past your scalp,
scampering over the night-riddled tangles
while we refused to detach from the grip of morning.
the palm of my skull,
my temple and cheek,
were a part of your hard skin, cleansed from dirt but
laden with chemical residue.
I was afraid your tattoo would leave an impression.
no words fell from our swollen tongues,
saving the humidity from pollution:
we gripped each other’s thoughts straight from the throat.
I ripped away my head from your chest, unzipped
my eyes to stare past airborne drops of liquid
straight into yours
while I gripped onto you all the harder.
finally, the marketing schemes and skin cells
were rinsed and toweled,
leaving us smelling
like everyone else in this,
yet another,
hotel.
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 6:04 AM UTC
She sits naked on the floor
Picking songs and sipping
On her warm beer
I smoke by the window
At a new lover's distance
Watching her intermittently
The city is still
It's 3a.m.
Our bodies
Are spent on each other
The bedsheets still wet
With our sweat
After the fire
We separated
Into component pieces
She combed her hair
In the mirror
As I poured cold water
Over myself
And ******
With the bathroom door
Left open
My ****
Still a little hard
I could hear her sing
As I toweled myself
Watched the last of the water
Fall into the drain
And for the first time
I could remember
I did not have to try
There was no rush
There was nowhere
I needed to be
Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 5:25 PM UTC
she is comforting herself can’t you see that.
the way she lies on his chest listens to his heart beat slower slower after fast.
i simply speak what is on my mind why do you love me because because starry moon child you are made up of all the things i cannot grasp.
the way he bends she bends loud bubbling *** noisier and higher pitched keep it down shhh don’t wake the neighbors.
the way she gasps he gasps look what you did
is that from last time or this time
last and the other one from now
let me see the marks that were made no wonder she never stayed.
red. as the lips you have touched. the remedies on my tongue. the stains on my toweled thighs. the handprints on my *** the hearts above my head.
his head will lie between her thighs. his hands will find their way back to gripping hips. leaving the marks. her back will remember its familiar curve.
why do you love me?
i wasn’t expecting that question.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 11:48 PM UTC
He loved Stella Perita, his dear wife, taller than he did,
From across River Nzoia, the daughter of Lubonga
The great fisherman and infamed hunter of his time
That used to **** the leopard with his bare hands.
The ears of Lubonga’s brothers and clansmen
were keen for his fate, as he relinquished Perita
His tallest daughter to Kitui wa Khayongo.
Kitui loved his wife Perita without reservation;
He did everything for her, from washing everything
to being blind to each and every of her faults,
He forgave her ceaselessly all the adulterous acts,
She gave birth to ******** and ******** but he gave no ****
He washed her every time of the week she took a bath,
He toweled her dry after each bathe, and avoided *** with her
Lest he makes her ***** with his peasant’s sweat and *****
He economized his eating greatly, so that he creates a reserve for her
When the starvation comes in the month of May, when food is scanty,
She ate and ate until she developed cancer of over- eating,
And when she died Kitui moaned and mourned,
Like a croaking bull frog in the swamps during the winter, for two years,
He grieved such long as his brothers and neighbours skulked in a giggle.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 4:18 AM UTC
These are the times I hate.
When I remember
I need to tell her
Something very urgent
If not told this moment
Might never be said
But at that hour
I’m at the shower
And my holler can’t breach
To be in her ear’s reach!
It’s still less fun
When they come
Not just one
But three four five
Ready to be told ripe
But in that ********* hour
I’m right at the shower
Needing immediately to tell her
What I might not again remember!
Not one from the to be said I can save
See them washed out to watery grave
No mind hammering could ever retrieve
Their loss that I'm left to bereave!
There’s no second chance for all of them
Terribly important but dying unnamed
With the toweled wetness they too evaporate
My thoughts at the shower at that hour I hate!
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 7:49 AM UTC
And on the bough of grate arrest
Sat a lady with toweled unrest
And with it a notebook
Black as soot
Parched and swollen
Stomped, a black boot
And through the Pandemic she wrote and she wrote
About fears of her body being crushed by the throat
With it came sorrows when her family was good
Surrounded by friends online and much food
Surrounded by parents by brother the like
Still she felt trapped
Still she sought light
In a dungeon of her own making
Born of sweat, slime, and drink
Harrowed and shaking
Ghastly to think
That this isn’t the end
Nay, only beginning
Stuck in her bedroom like a warped castle hanging
Velvet ropes shuttered her eye
And garden troves shuttered her thigh
And brains pumped by news
All of the time, er, all of the time
So she shut out the world
As impeachment enclosed
Across the country
Dead justice rose
Not zombies nor corpses not copses the like
Send her the script of a worn phantom tike
She once was a child, now she airs thirty
In ere few years, will she be worthy
Of the spite and malice
Of the spit and chalice
Of the whirlwind that adulthood becomes,
Leering its awful tight grin
Pale teeth embedded into her skin
She wishes, oh she wishes she ere a child again!
How many a time now has she dreamed of escaping
Lockdown, social distancing, shelter in place, resisting
Once a grand circus, now deserted incased
Once crisis inverted, now heavens did race
The lady waited
The lady prayed
The lady wished, and hoped and brayed
The Albatross which was wrapped round her neck
Not by rope but by feathers
So weary and pecked
The actual bird wrapped its corpse round her throat
But she slayed it, sliced the dead bird clean off!
And let it sink into the dirt and decompose to rot
There goes the rhyme
Blessed and recoiled
Well in her prime
She feels so old, so boiled
But the Albatross
A great wanton flight
Unusual, still
That mates for life
And carries no strife
Still, she swung in the knife
And released its rolling sore
Now it burdens her no more
And then the lady mariner saw the light!
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 9:35 PM UTC
In an act of offering, a century-old love was forsaken
The memories of naked showering now swim
In a tank of rapacity, in the suit of purity
Slowly from one end to another
Holding the scripture of ignorance
And intolerance
The collection of roadside fortuities, so scrupulously made,
Now also swims in the tank of rapacity
In the suit of cordiality
Slowly from one end to another
Holding the scripture of impatience
And negligence
In the nights of obscurities, climbing the ladder of lust
Sins are toweled dry
Hymning is performed, smelling delicious
When few more desires rise *****
Eyes are welled up in contempt, yet in compassion
Standing on the ruins of confessions, the promise was protected
The promise was protected, on an act of offering
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 1:55 AM UTC