Lynn
2021-02-08 01:19 am
quite literally they cannot spill out of my mouth into the toilet bowl fast enough green, neophyte, insensate swirling around in the clear, shallow water, they almost look like they are swimming ancient, ferric, turpentine its midnight on sunday afternoon and the morning never felt so far away verily, salt, halcyon pulling the lever, they swirl away, the letters sloshing together into a murky soup gestalt, vermilion, fear they turn into equations with no solutions when i bring my hand away from my mouth, wiping ouroboros, nineteen, baseless i know better than to brush my teeth golden, gale, corridor i know better than to go back to bed right after demilune, murmur, mirror linoleum, throat, nightgown listless, lucid, dreamer
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R B Lane
2021-02-06 08:28 pm
I hear your voice upon the wind. It calls me, to come to you I follow the sound unable to resist like a Siren call to sailors at sea. Your eyes meet mine. The eyes of a lioness who wishes to devour me You pounce upon me and bring me to the ground onto your bed of lilac and lavender I am helpless in your jaws about my neck. Your fangs pierce deep into my flesh. Your jaws crush my last resistance. Your golden flaxlike mane falls upon me like waves of soft sea mist In my mouth and in my eyes, I look through the golden net which binds me Your lips find mine. Your tongue darts into my mouth and upon my face with the kisses of my submission. Your kisses go down my chest with your golden hair softly following behind. Your kisses rise back to my face with your hair all about me forming the net of my capture. Two breasts land upon my body like twin fawns playing in a meadow. They move and glide up and down my body. I reach to grab them, so smooth and soft You are upon me now and our bodies move like the sway of the trees in the wind. I am in you. You have devoured me. There is no more me, only you my Calypso.
Gord
2020-11-25 04:33 am
To hurt him, like ordinance, Without pair, like oranges, I know the judge, stole from her, And I showed the world, Like porcelain, life and purpose. Too curt of whim, by your judgement, Like my origins, like ordinance, I simply shoot from the hip.
Gord
2020-11-06 12:40 am
A Fool, wreath of barbs, Writing of films' stars, Barns, and what lies beyond; Tools for reaching disembarkments, A cool way to clean her clock, A gun, put into a mouth, Entire crowd in shock; His cigar takes tocks, Ticks boxes and lives onward. He rewrites his ducks: swans, Cooks his brownies blonde, Looks at his frowning fawn, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Like drowning frogs, A fearless John. When he writes of life, It's to a howling mob, Sexy songs, luck gaunt, One of us, One of us, One of us, Eteonicus lives, reeds or not.
Innasense
2020-10-10 09:54 pm
Warning: this is looooooong and if you’re a sensitive individual the first parts may bother you. But hopefully the last part will inspire you. Speak your truths friends. The ones who matter will love you all the harder. #worldmentalhealthday Hidden Stories They smiled, jokingly told her she looked tired, “Must’ve partied hard last night.” Smile quietly returned, “just didn’t sleep too well I guess.” She didn’t tell them how hard it was to get out of bed this morning, How sleep never came last night, How it felt like the darkness would just swallow her whole, How she felt hollow and empty and there weren’t any tears left, just an ache deep within that wouldn’t subside. And maybe if she just squeezed her eyes shut and stayed in that bed in the blacked out void, She wouldn’t have to face another day of faked smiles and “I’m ok” lies. “Just tired today I guess.” “It’s warm today man!” “What’s with the long sleeves all the time?” “Got some crazy tattoos under there?” He smiled, laughed along with them, Self-consciously ran his hands over his wrists. Over the bandages binding his secrets. They didn’t know how close he got last night, how he almost let go, How so much blood, HIS blood swirled down the drain, mixing with his tears. He was sure no one would miss him, but he wondered if he would miss this world, And the good days out in the sun, Few and far between as they were. What would they say if he were gone tomorrow? “You should’ve come out with us last night. You would’ve had so much fun...” She nodded and made those “next time” promises, though she knew they were lies. She’d stay home again, Wrapped in the icy grips of loneliness, Which felt somehow better than her burning cheeks when the right words just wouldn’t come, or the wrong ones spilled out, and she felt their eyes on her, Panic rising, thoughts frozen Wishing she’d just stayed home, Away from the judgement, And all the wrong moves she always made “Haven’t seen you around in a while! Doing ok?” His mouth smiled, head nodded, lips formed words he’d said so often, automatic. Because, really, he thought, How could I describe that moment last night, body curled up with forehead cold against the kitchen floor, Ears covered to block out the voices, Silent screams wracking his body as the panic overwhelmed him, No breath to speak, And who could he call anyway, How would he explain these moments of pure fear that slipped in unnoticed and become everything, took everything, until he was a shivering shell of himself. Sometimes he wondered, if they could see through him, would they think him weak? Would they walk away...? These people are all make-believe, but the experiences are not, taken from articles and discussions and sometimes even revelations from real-life friends. These are not my stories, but they are someone’s truths, Not their weakness, Not their short-lived sadness that they can just “get over” if you try hard enough to make them happy. (My gosh do I need to remind myself of that part sometimes...) But that doesn’t mean you stop trying. Love them y’all. Love them so damn much that you’ll sometimes break through the cracks in their self-inflicted armor. Listen to them, Give them the chance to be open and honest, And if what they say makes you flinch, imagine what it must feel like for them. Do something kind that makes them smile and get ready to do it again tomorrow. Smile and laugh with them. Cry with them. Be genuine with your thoughts and feelings. Give them space, but check on them. Pull them out of the dark for just a moment, say, “I’m here for you when you need me. And I always will be.” Mental health issues are often invisible, but still feel debilitating to the one inside that head. Stay educated. Be understanding. Love the hell out of each other. ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍🤎💗
Gord
2020-09-11 05:58 am
Drinking Bowls and pitchers, like smoking coals and timber; If only bones could lift, Our home, save the children, Even buried having all gold and silver, Can an afterlife supply of groves and vineyards? Old and crippled, mouth of the old man dribbles, His eyes meet to eventually form a river; How can he romance with trombones and singers, When he sees and himself, groans and withers, Lays down again amongst the toads and lizards; Eyes hollow and wrinkled, bathrobe, slippers, Windows, the stones that hit them, now coal, Used to build all the roads and bridges.
crybaby
2020-08-20 11:24 am
8 years old playing with dolls marriage between thots never touched the boys then at school cool swimming pools putting on your clothes causes me to drool in 7th grade joined the parade thats the time i came out of the shade i regret not sleeping at that one night i said what we cant forget you pretend not knowing my face you never call me by my name i just need to know what’s under the snow what’s the name of the show that you play i wish i were straight or you were be gay if only you would lay down with me babe look me in the eyes like i look in yours kiss me on my mouth and i would be yours
Lynn
2020-07-21 01:31 am
devouring the skin inside my lip. of course, everything in the human body is connected. of course. staining the porcelain with blood and iron, iron and blood and water, the permutations of rust. my voice becomes sticky, sickly sweet - the performance of wellness thickened even further by blood. my crazy, concentrated and caustic, drains through my nose and onto my chin and onto my shirt and onto my hands and down the drain. “i wish the blood inside my mouth were yours”.
Gord
2018-10-21 01:49 pm
The valley is my grave For I sit within the mouths of caves I shall not move for days Nor weeks nor years For even if I'm paid in flies My destiny, Tyler, I won't deny For one day when I die My body will atone For I could eat a stone twice my size My destiny, Tyler, I won't deny My afterlife, a Bulwark Frog Lo, to be a tadpole of one's own life For now, I just write songs Fantasies to make my family fear the valley's size Then bulwark on
Gord
2017-12-27 10:00 am
Amateur poet, ultimate, Heroic, stoic, slowest, Everything rhymed about, Hopeful of inchoate. Chum of the lake, think, Who is the wake for? Dead men living pale, or those living, Mouth agape, ailing, Flailing their limbs, Scene akimbo, Fare unanswered, Meter fake. So they take what is mine, Question pondered, What is life plastered? Humanity mastered, Time honored, or is it a last laugh, before dying afterward? Poets lie yet find alms, Measured footsteps bald, Words lifelessly clever, Heart hard to hold palm; Old arms to old arms, Adages stolen loved upon; Bard holy, arch golden, To carve lonely, Barns beholden, Nothing nobel. Par normally, like poultry, To starve colts. Ark art, Swan gone, Dark garb, lark fawned, Opposite of his mind, He finds laughter, Chapter after chatter, Chancellor gone; He defines pattern, An afterthought.
Gord
2017-12-25 08:13 am
Amateur poet, ultimate, Heroic, stoic, slowest, Everything rhymed about, Hopeful of inchoate. Chum of the lake, think, Who is the wake for? Dead men living pale, or those living, Mouth agape, ailing, Flailing their limbs, Scene akimbo, Fare unanswered, Meter fake. So they take what is mine, Question pondered, What is life plastered? Humanity mastered, Time honored, or is it a last laugh, before dying afterward? Poets lie yet find alms, Measured footsteps bald, Words lifelessly clever, Heart hard to hold palm; Old arms to old arms, Adages stolen loved upon; Bard holy, arch golden, To carve lonely, Barns beholden, Nothing nobel. Par normally, like poultry, To starve colts, Farms wholesome.
Gord
2017-08-25 11:58 am
Materialism shoddy, Outlook potty, In a world of rocks, I wish for a mouth chalky, Ground filled with chalk. Curve my bell aptly, Lord of the shinebox, Grant me world gaudy, Ending with gold trim, Upon a golden hem, Golden sheets, golden beds. Golden nails, Golden boards Golden floors. Wife scenic, Life ironic, Post Modernism.
Gord
2017-03-21 12:00 am
Driving to the cottage, Mouths full of espoinage. Talk of bondage world, Floral arrangements, Done by potheads.
The Sophist
2016-08-28 12:00 am
Sides of my mouth Beaten and battered Cucumber Cheese Salted crackers
The Sophist
2015-05-13 12:00 am
A charge upon thee, Assault upon my person, Trigger of my dignity, Myth'll make it worsen, Find two and two as three, Head hung beneath a merkel, Abhoring Greek, Abhoring Roman, Abhor mythology. Abhor to write or speak. When weakness strong, And braveness weak. And as we sleep, No longer fly, No longer laugh, No longer climbing trees, Our dreams are gone, As a treat, We put pure reason in our mouths, Infected with disease. Veins infected too, Running to my finger tips, Swelling to the moon, Back into my wrist, Swaying to the tune, In need of amethyst. To cure me of my drunken state, Kiss me with your teeth, Make me feel your pain, Then kiss me with your drunken lips. Burn the greatest books, Whisper greatest stories, Slowly back away from bliss, Lying down, Accept defeat, Merrily, Ideas are but temperless.
Gord
2015-05-06 12:00 am
Voice To explore the belly of the beast, Is to die for what you believe in. Countervoice: Explore the mouth of a dog, Finding nothing, move on. I implore a decision by partisan. Voice: As if I were to run ashore autistic, Circumventing a sky of no direction, Upon sunken ship of squalid condition. I prepare for no blockade partition, No handkerchief can adopt misdirection, So no thief can hold a cloth of gold. Countervoice: Mention again of the god-dog. Who sits at the feet of us all. Sub servant religious dogma, Poverty being stomping ground, If man is to answer a challenge, Who is to call him down?
Gord
2014-10-16 12:00 am
I might not have a million dollars but to be fair I also dont breathe through my mouth
Drunk on Stage and Punching other Girls
Poets quickly release material albums, Teachers equate material sophism as equal: Knowledge concrete, belief in Calvin. Topped off dressed in a top-hat and sequins;
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