When Lisa told me she had made love
Another, in the life of that phone booth
Tepeyac store , I thought the world
He had for me. A tall skinny guy and
With long hair and a long dick that did not wait
Over an appointment to penetrate to the bottom.
There is something serious , she said , but
The best way to get you out of my life.
Parmenides Garcia Saldana had long hair and had
Been the lover of Lisa , but some
Years later I learned that he had died in a psychiatric clinic
Or that he had committed suicide . Lisa and I did not want
Go to bed with losers. Sometimes I dream
With her and see her happy and cold in Mexico
Designed by Lovecraft. We listen to music
( Canned Heat , one of the preferred groups
Parmenides Garcia Saldana ) and then we
Love three times . The first came inside me
The second came in my mouth and the third , just a thread
Water , a short fishing line, between my breasts. And all
In two hours, said Lisa . The two worst hours of my life,
I said from the other side of the phone.
Tag Archives: şiir
Robert Creely – To And
Alfonsina Storni – Running Water
Joseph Ceravolo – Street Wise Romantic
The streets are empty and still,
between the red time,
then start again.
Trucks bouncing by,
cars to work, work.
The farms are disappearing as I noticed
years ago along this old route.
Now the farms lie beneath
hotels, office complexes whose beauty
is beyond the senses
in some economic realm fortified
by the delusions of power and inequity.
But the farms are lying beneath
and large poisonous plants
fusing the electrical circuits beneath.
No there’s no death to evil,
it rises again, now in war, now in bucks
now in land, now in power,
it rises up forever until the end,
when the light may intercede and remain.
Seek refuge from the fantasy
into one other fantasy.
We see violence done on subways on streets
but we don’t see violence done
in a new class system or economic twist.
Does it murder just as well?
Nothing can be done.
It will go on and on
until the intercessions of the sun.
Everything else has failed, and will,
but the innocence of youth
and the momentum of dawn.
sperm fades in eden
inhale crystal alice
staircase fingers touching my back,
rabbit martyr
tick , tock
late in the hole,
wednesday stays naively next to tuesday,
as mound of mouth
makes wanton sounds
oh sweet ace of hearts
burn my face
as at the table
in shame and desperation,
tea irresistible at the moment
with insanity breaking loose
mosaic tiles of words and thoughts
propose a whole new story
closer to the experience,
of what the dormouse knew,
shrunken head
damn liquid
mind implodes,
best to roll on back
tilt the ceiling to see the truth
four thousand stars have brought
Off The Perfumed Saddle
piano keys washed in honey [ woman bathing in time ]
sexualist extreme ,
broken straw bed
assembled ingredients of a virgins reflection
desire/slutton/erogenous/ unforgiving
bitter fingers play [woman dried on flowers flesh]
hungering absolute yet no permanence
jazz expelled drum beat symphony
tatoo/dollars /benign/fragile
[woman forgotten in memories light]
supple sinewy ghosts on sunset go
a raw experiment for @dVersePoets 55 prompt
aerial burden of the ox
with the old decades shown in the rain
burdening me with a dampness
remorse in it’s wanting has,
flesh colored dreams
drawn tight into deep constriction
the next day would be more relevant,
sipping a coffee cold at the edges
no plate on the mat
hunger not the issue here,
wet clothes painful to the bone
unnoticed by a vapor soul,
scented thoughts
as my mind peeled
drawn into segments pithy and secretive,
pieces i could look at
and not venture a taste
any sweetness gone
acrid juice spilling over lingering images
this fight so ancient
could break me down at the yoke
leaving a harvested husk
and no resonance,
only to be lifted skywards
coffee grew cold
mat still empty
http://dversepoets.com/ #openlinknight
maelstrom
ardors grip
blinding as searing light
tears open caring heart
anger as old as creation,
tears at family daisy chain
crushing stems
leaving it broken
unhooked green stems
wilting broken asunder
where was the stars
and the open eyes
heart chimed
a mother resolute
that a son will be
not dead to her
but salvage
to be gathered
and supported
mending can be heard
in the blur of tears,
fragile dreams
will be recovered slowly
with different endings
when the darkness
vanishes
dead pilot of the apartment building
x had been an activist
man with tentative government connections
who smoked turkish cigarettes,
constant watching in his decay
bare earth surface
at his seat he had died
virus swift had come
someone in apartment 76 had coughed
still powered by central core engines
apartment building zero utopia
named as a joke
lifted it’s ungainly shape higher
loosening from the failing gravity
two hundred passengers decaying
yet within computated rooms
their souls engage
sparks electro magnetic vibration
they would immerse and combine
be the ship was guided away
zero utopia would be one
with the stars
it’s occupants entering a new existence
that darwin and the bible
could never of imagined
dversepoets.com
love gone beserk
isolation makes me jump
into the shredding propeller of her tongue
it was Hi 8 and stereo record player
and a sense we belonged,
wiping nose on my hand
then on those jeans strained and faded,
we could make it work maybe,
her nightgown had buttons
linear nipples of distraction,
i would run
if it where not the seventeenth floor
and no closer to heaven,
her voice slowed quicker
than the snow outside,
are we done
gun still pressed in my back waistband
you look done
i felt battered beyond the cut over eye
and bloodied nose,
the projects would have heroes
i was not one of them,
failing to hold up the store
girl cashier
younger
faded blonde dye and dark roots,
i spoke and connected,
pulled a flower from the bunches
sold cheaply at the desk
and gave it to her,
a startling explosion
as manager hit me with a piece of wood,
i ran
never said goodbye
but i know who
i wanted now
velvetmedia 