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it seems
the blue lights
drift ghostly
past the windows
more often
these days
each occasion
bringing with it
a momentary
fleeting interest
in where
the drama is
currently residing
at who's pillow
might be
tear-stained
through the night
at who's door
fear and anxiety
are being permitted
to step inside
at who's house
has become
a closed film set
waiting to be
stripped of content
until only
walls doors windows
and memories
remain
but
as commercials end
attention returns
once more
to a stronger
more constant
source of
blue light
and all present
are thankful that
at least
the banshees
that wailing of sirens
has been silenced
in time
Chris Chaffin Jan 2021
Two lovebirds snuggle
in the shade of a weeping willow,
oblivious to chastising honks
of Canadian geese.

Blushing buds begin to bloom,
swollen with anticipation
as the solstice draws near
and blood boils beneath the skin.

Weathered voyeurs train watchful eyes
on the short-lived marriage of the flesh,
scoffing at the consummation of seasons,
knowing the fickle nature of the sun.

When the geese fly south, so will he.
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2020
From
the veil of
trees, I can
peer into
your window,
and count
the family,
imagine them
gone to bed,
dreaming of blue,
"underwater, unaware."

Those summer
evaporations tickle
my skin,
bring on such
an observational
itch:
how you,
freshly out
of the pool,
bloomed
brightly on
Betamax.
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2020
I am daylight
of a dissolving stay
in Paris
looking over
wrought-iron dreams
peering through
baroque and promises
at the ransom note
written on
a sleeping **** sunbather's
****-cheeks
where it reads:
"...our marriage
was nothing more
than a foxhole to you.
"
~
Laura May 2020
With too much time on my hands
I think of you
It’s funny how these cycles
Keep on spinning
Cobwebs in my mind
Still catching lies

And love feels a world away
Behind glass
It’s easy to feel trapped
The line between observer
And observed
No longer exists
Ig: @laura_poetessa
Carlo C Gomez Apr 2020
Beaches get jealous
But I'm not repentant

She brought her bikini
And changed where she
Thought no one could see

Heaven knows at sixteen
I was full curious

I saw the goods
Lost my equilibrium
And fell down the embankment

To this day
I may have selective memory
About events

I do, however
Remember the reach
And the bend

And how I swear
Her belly button winked
LaFayette Oct 2019
Hey you forgot to close the blinds again
You have to know the distance isn’t far
I can see right through with the lights on
And now you are getting ready for bed

Who takes a shower this late at night
And no, I’m not sitting at the window for you
I am an accidental viewer taking in a show
I swear I’m not a creep, just right place right time

How fast do I have to look away embarrassed
To still be considered a mannerly gentleman
And not some disgusting ******, enjoying it
But to be honest, you look too good to stop
nsp Apr 2019
Your eyes stare through my window
the sky dims to a calling crow
my mahogany chest holds whips and chains
I invite you to watch the show

Comprised of three acts:
the binding, the lust, the sin
the sun has set, my guest arrived
it's time the show begin

Her years on earth so few
******* still firm, skin so tender
do your flaws cry with jealousy?
will you joy to watch me end her?

We waltz into the bedroom
prey so innocent through and through
I've drawn the blinds with caution
so you can enjoy the view

Her body takes rope so natural
time slows to let it linger
a leather cuff for each ankle,
a twine for every finger

The binding now complete
are your eyes glued with such thrill?
this beauty's last night of leisure
first pleasure - then the ****

My bite tickles her warm torso
a soft breath brings her to dew
my tongue guides her to fruition
do your fingers, the same, for you?

In bliss she asks for her release
I give my answer - "no"
there's plenty left in the mahogany chest
the last act of the show

To the floor fall whip and dagger
her face to terror with such splendor
a silent scream slips through her teeth
a whimper of surrender

The whip draws blood and flesh
ripped like a child from the womb
our eyes lock as as I raise the dagger
electricity fills the room

Crimson flows from her sweet veins
her heart beat starts to slow
but you see there is an encore;
a fourth act to the show!

With the room now dead in silence
and a witness to my debut
I pull the knife from my lovers side
and point the blade straight at you

Your frantic fingers dial for help
but I've already cut your line
the door frame splinters as I enter
there's a curtain call this time

My swings slice you to pieces
that I tie neatly with a bow
break a leg I did!
good night! the end! the show!
I wanted to try something completely different than my normal style. So here's a rhyming-narrative-horror poem. I hope you liked it. I might still workshop it a bit but I wanted to let it fly out into the world.
RedD Sep 2018
Through the open window
Could they see you?

Though the walls
Could they hear you?

Through the open door
Did they watch you

****
me
maybe
?
15/9/18
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