Best Pinning Poems

Hibiscus rays of light
herald the sun's stretch from slumber
in a bloom of ravishing red passion- 
Oh! how I despise dawn's blushing optimism
and lust for life!
for...

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“Die Another Day”


“Your mission, should you so deem it,
Is to infiltrate ALL Fluff Clusters in K.A.O.S. Headquarters
And bloody well steam it!”


“The Place is a hazardous...

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A is for Annie Apple Blossom she buds in the Spring. 
B is Betty Baby Breath she's such a dainty thing.

C is for Miss Candy...

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This is a perfect winter night to tandem thyself with my sizzling nerves 
Candle light stuns thy hips moving in wine-red skirt, penning killer curves
O’...

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I was fed a brain scorpion tonight.
Small sting...  but a cute glimmer of the things to come.
Hypodermic needle pinning point blank on my frontal...

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Pass.if.ick

while listening to the Pacific
w)aether(, (woe)ter from eyes
pool into the soul
wanting to gush, saever--

to create a great divide
between memory and heart,
forcing to un-feel

in a dumb...

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Pinning chests like puffins to project
      fuzzy assertion,
      huddled, brave foragers
chase the crumbs along the
      stained ground,

flapping feathers of civility during
      auspicious climbs and
      daft plummets, swooping in
massive waves of...

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Six forty eight,
sitting in a cab at Madison and LaSalle.
Present in hand, Spongebob encased.
A look at the schedule just to confirm
the train leaves at seven...

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"Samsara in the 5th"



The phenomenal world
is illusory, it calls for 
nothing of substance
romance is laid out
legs and hearts spread
open like a catalogue 
touched through the...

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Just half a meter away is this semi-covered female
so fertile for a score of trees to grow on
smooth and soft, curvy and oily
a rich landscape...

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Snatching them by their head
Pinning them to the ground
Tearing off their limbs
Pouring water on their wounds
Standing up and carrying them inside
Showing them to your mother...

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As I stand tentatively on this ledge,
I begin to wonder
if they'll bother to dredge.
I doubt it,with a river so wide,
not for yet,another suicide.
Then I contemplate...

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The sun a subtle whisper made,
A lurid phantom in the sky,
To slip beneath the closing day,
And leave her smile in my mind.

In dreams I’ve wandered...

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It is the eighth hour of fog,
yet she still paces around the churchyard
without a hat on her blown tresses;
an autumn cloak rustling beneath a gray...

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Words waving softly through a heart
That stir and bow to please
Will shyly touch love's pinning part
And find anguish to appease

Tis of the sound that's never...

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