back-words... poetry - pt.1

*** at some point, i got the wild idea i should share all my poetry (old and new) so i started posting my entire archive in small batches. who could've predicted the following year my external hard drive would die?

Friday, September 7, 2007
poetry...
i thought i would start sharing more poetry from my archives. enjoy...


A Developing Process

As Ms. Jarvis said,
"Paper loves to be massaged."
Erotic massages done here.
A dimly lit room provides atmosphere.
Back and forth,
Up and down,
Side to side--
and it was only a matter of in and out.
Have you massaged your paper today?


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A Hard Day's Reward

When there is nothing left to inspire,
I feel somewhat like a flat Michelin tire,
Not the British Empire,
Nor a boggy mire,
But, I feel like my mind is blocked,
Or like nothing has been stocked,
My computer files are locked,
So my whole day has been deadlocked,
The day is done,
My homework -- there is none,
I am at home where I can have some fun,
But not in the sun,
And now I have the thrill,
To finally fulfill,
Dreams at my windowsill,
'Til the morning dew's chill.


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Bad Mistake!

Take a stroll.
Meet a troll.
Pay a toll
To climb a pole;
See your goal,
Eat a roll,
Ride a foal,
And burn your coal
To keep warm
After the storm.
Bump into a bee swarm
Whose stings will take form,
And make you feel under your norm
So that you die back at your dorm.


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Bats

The bat, the most cunning, trickiest nighttime acrobat.
The way he swoops to his prey, is how I'll sweep you off your feet.
I'll take you far off,
Away from everything,
And yet, to everything.
Sleek, strong, and silent we are -- the bat and I.
We travel as one and yet we're alone in our separate worlds.
He chose the best prey and yet I've found far better -- you.
The almighty bat, dark knight, oh so tranquil and full of peace,
Has now and only now the time to make his move;
If he calls his bluff, he shall lose it,
If he meets his match, his prize, he shall surely lose it.
Now the question is, What shall I do?
And the answer is?
I shall claim my prize, but unlike him, I won't lose mine.


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Beauty

That was a beautiful sight, last night.
I saw our fingers interlaced--
our hands were clasped, oh so tight!
You leaned in close
and your moist lips pressed against mine
in a way that I'll never forget.
The passion burned within you like wildfire;
I wished to sip your luscious wine,
but I had to savor the moment,
for inebriation would ruin it all.
So I drank from your silhouette, instead.
It was a night I shall never forget.


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* thanks for reading. this poetry is a lot of old work. i will have more to share soon.