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Deborahlee Feb 2019
inside my soup cup, a fly swims the backstroke,
dives from the spoon to my tongue and I choke

scream as the porcelain saucer tossed broke
and out from the waitress's eyes rises smoke

chef bombs me with eggs, curls drip yellow yolk
run as he yells slobbering ~ this cook may stroke.

a guy on a bicycle falls breaking a wheel spoke,
the busboy laughs at him - the man sees no joke

red bloodshot eyes rage - he ***** slaps the bloke
pile-drives and jabs with the three stooges poke.

dogs trailing cats chasing toads in a stereo croak
stop to mark the ground but the busboy they soak

standing as the hostess throws a bottle of coke
she pegs his forehead and ricocheted glass broke

seeing the ice for his lump I jump up - then spoke
of the green head flies in the cubes gag and choke

chaos erupts - a food fight hits and flying dishes broke
police cars roll, folks scatter and I duck behind an oak.
a play on 'what's that fly doing in my soup'
Deborahlee Jan 2019
you eat up lines that she dishes
seeing steak on the plate of ****
the wine you shipped top shelf
but her caviar is just counterfeit

she painted pictures she flashed
with you as the star of every bit
whispering tales of the airplane
carrying you for heights two hit

an email and message paper trail
screams out a capitalized tissy fit
as the silk spiderweb knots break
and you sniffing the perfume of it

now people point fingers sharing
every ***** lil detail the ***** spit
sipping foam latte with a cigarette
tossing your reputation into a pit
get a belly full yet?
I don't like spiders and snakes but...
Deborahlee Jan 2019
caterpillars in cocoons
cling to tobacco leaves
chopped to fill cigarettes
...and a butterfly grieves

smoking insects
fried green caterpillars
go ahead strike a match
inhale the bug part fillers

exhale wings and flick the ash...
will an extinction of kaleidoscopes
be the aftermath?
many insects take residence in tobacco fields...
did you cook a cricket today?
Deborahlee Jan 2019
dressed to mask this scowl
painted it bubblegum pink

poured my three finger shot
of 100 proof rotgut to drink,

no ice for a chaser required
as all my inhibitions shrink

naughtiness envelopes me
willpower slips off the brink

my sights set, the target you,
you shall be mine with a wink

in the armor that you sport
feel me slide passed a *****

craving the heat of naked flesh
races pulse, stimulation in sync

resistance is futile, ***** the rules
time to feel with no time to think
now to crush a pesky conscience...
Deborahlee Jan 2019
Tick...
chained to an aluminum pole
on the corner of nightmares
and broken daydreams,
salted weep rusts purple pillowcase
-eyelids swell sobbing

from hell's red pepper pavement
laughs echo and voices pierce the brain
like scorching fire bolts and
hot spasming muscles burn

Tock...
darkness circles tossing shadows
as mumbled whimpers bounce off
naked walls covered in chipped paint

~ body shakes  -  limbs wrench.
cold chills trail fiery sweats
triggering goosebumps to parade
down my spine and skin

ache puddles as
pictures storm my brain
in black and white blinks
flashing places  -not people
~ no smiling faces

...Tick-tock
hands round the clock face
every sweep ticks in stereo
marking body cramps-
trip off rooftop and
the building just stares

falling  - sleep grips too tight,
whisper goodbye and not goodnight
catch me
stop the clock-tower chimes
ringing 'ding **** the ***** is dead'
to the beat inside my foggy head.
they say if you hit bottom in your dream... you died
Deborahlee Jan 2019
tallying up her glass house hits
from rocks thrown in the past,
a gusted breeze jostles curtains
with the bone-chilling icy blast

like droplets from the falling rain
the shards all spill down shattered
from windowsills without a pane
the clear broken pieces lay scattered

along with breaking me into sharp-edged bits
you stomped every single thing that mattered
when it rains in open windows
and the doors slam, do bridges burn?
Deborahlee Jan 2019
the windshield wiper kiss
broke my wings

slammed on a sidewalk
in the fall

on the ground like this
I fade to ash grey chalk
death
Deborahlee Jan 2019
in my stairway stumble
body and step collides

the bangs and bounces
meet the rug burn slides

as inner chaos flounces
my aches scream inside

rocking in silence

...with no one to hear
twice in as many months...
the last bruises just healed.
,
Deborahlee Jan 2019
streaks mark the skyline in mustard yellow
in peanut butter and milk chocolate brown

shadowing the sand on the shoreline below
sun tosses the ocean tide as light falls down

the moon climbs to the edge of the horizon
glowing between the storm clouds in view

meet me as a rainbow kisses the gleaming sun
with the morning sky dressed in an opal hue

with hazel eyes closed, I inhale and come undone
as my brain fills me inside in color images of you
pinks purples and blues light inside of opal hues
somewhere over the rainbow...
.
Deborahlee Jan 2019
They say I speak your name too much
and I admit fantasies rules my thought
morning afternoon and
into the wee hours;
in the silence of the night,
your tone sought

if you are the sunshine
blanket me, I'm the sky
my soul seeks your light
outside of the darkness,
flying into flames, I fry

burning inside the rays
of impossibility's hell
bones fall to grey ash
as my soul I sell.
you get no sympathy from the devil, final bill due!
I sold my soul and still ended up without you...
.
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