I hit the spot.
I marked it with a dot.
It's my spot—
An 'X' ringed.
A bullseye claimed,
filled with jet black ink—
Not a blot with rough edges that seep out,
but one with a sharp outer perimeter.
It's a point pretending it has a yard of space around it,
on its own plot of land, casting no shadows.
I shift a bit; neighbors start crowding in.
"Stop Right There!"
"It's my spot you're on!"
I feel the canvas moving under my spot,
or is it all the jostling moving me — page, plot and all?
Now I'm bouncing in a crowded jumping castle.
Dots blurring into one another.
Stippled footprints mark where spots once stood;
touching down elsewhere — here, there, otherwise.
I've lost the plot; I've lost my spot.
Just another orphaned dot,
set adrift, looking for a margin to belong in.
on a slate, forever being wiped clean.
I clamp down and dig in my heels.
Crampons bite into the ice floe.
Punctuation halts the slide,
puts its foot down—
my comma sheds its tail, and holds.
Janet is his darkest addiction,
His will is her every command,
A live erotic girl to ease up all of his afflictions,
Filling up, and stocking so many golden jars
Pleasing her like he’s on a mission
Reading that upside-down book or opening her up
Just shadows who dance to the same rhythm
The chains are there and yet, they are really not
Her erotic petite frame is a forbidden symbol,
The best things sometimes come from the dark
So perfect are Janet's pink round nipples,
He loves it most when they are in a clamp
He tells her to pick up the biggest *****
To spread them up and then go really hard
To possess the live girl while the screen is on
Adoring her like she’s a sensual black cat
Worship her as if she truly is yours
A connection filled with fantasies and wants
Just fill up that cannoli it’s that simple
But first open those lips and then eat her up
Owning the live girl like it’s so legal
Enjoying that secret view is a must
Sessions depend on how well you treat her
Appreciation always takes you quite far.
Raven Archer
It concertinas over my skin,
around my wrist it trundles
on those stumpy limb nubbins
neither veering left or right.
Sublimely unaware of distance,
even when it lifts its round
jaw-bound head,
the yellow and black larva
searches only for a green world
to clamp onto.
I pluck it up from its lonely trek,
place it onto a Mulberry bush -
the fuzzy slinky pauses,
then commences to chomp down
on one more world,
a place that in time,
will be converted
to a yellow and black
grubbiness.
In midnight gazes call me sullen upon my cheek
Rousing replies risen bound by chains
Lest mercy be tallowed by all frays
Lest my cheek rise by an untimely hour
Rid my face of discoloured honour
Until it shall stalk by the wretched wicker sun's rays
O wither upon the wicker's sun dropped desire
Feign, o swell upon the imperious bells
Dear wicker, o ire, shalt rain upon the sinner's drencht trap
Leave mellow cleaves upon a skull's prondered fallows
O wicker, dear wicker, fall'n be the strife within my own trial
Ris'n upon a mellow moon's impassive scamp
A whore within such heavenly light, where'n quarry shalt seek a seeming clamp
Fought a feign, O swallow, O blossom by my might
Shalt the wicker sun swoon upon my sorrows?
O life, upon a liver, foreclose a killer
For soon i shall take upon flight
Until the sun's swollen wicker shall take upon the morrow
Shall anguish thrive upon a famisht howl
Come without breaks, nor bend
I shall steal upon the wicker's whelms
Towards the sways, o sorrow shall bend
Belier my helm, 'til all else shall fall hither
'Til I hear the moon call upon the wicker,
And I shall fly.
What eyes do you have:
the smiley eyes
the lustful eyes
the eyes that want to have him
the impulsive eyes
and the eyes that want to clamp in.
Everything needs a rest- the machine - a mirror- an
astronomical chart or graph- a sometimes glass?.
Like the fun even though dynamo elsewhen or blue
or black- glee elsewhere or G- clamp?.
I tell you something is hither or thither elsewhere or how
the world is not even aware of damn or the water blue
splashing on the eyelids of some mermaids for instance?,
Just let wait and see the sky is still weathering and sere
and flealy withering?.
Will the body mind when the spirit needs a rest or at least
a fine adornment?.
Or sometimes the beautiful flowers at the campaign
secretariat?.
I am deeply sadden
That I couldn’t have more time
Oh! How the roles have switched!
Deaden the grip
On what’s within
Now it’s ready to soar
Nothing to hold it back
The clamp has been
Loosened & fallen away
There are no more rainy days
Just sadness of what was
& why it had to be that way?
My mind has gone numb
From the swirling thoughts
Crashing against my skull
Only if my soul could
Understand the turmoil
It’s been through
Is there any sense
To what has been?
Why couldn’t this
Life come sooner
Always playing out in
My head without any end
Always stuck in her
Own little world they said
But it’s no longer my
Own little world
It’s OUR little world
That we are constantly
Building living & breathing
Ebbing & flowing through
Each & every day
Right next to you
Stitches
A wound, deep and wide.
Gaping, Ragged, Bleeding...
Cover with the cloth of
False Smiles.
Cover with the cobweb gauze of
Empty Sympathy.
Clamp it shut with fingers of
Chemical Laughter.
Hold it together with shaky hands of
Liquid pain relief.
A wound, deep and wide ...
Remains.
A wound,deep and wide
Gaping, Ragged, Bleeding...
Clean with
Love.
Stitch together with
Truth.
Soothe with the
Balm of Gilead.
Anoint with
Oil.
Healed....
A reminder of grace.
Stitches
A wound, deep and wide
Gaping, Ragged, Bleeding
Cover with the cloth of
False Smiles
Cover with the cobweb gauze of
Empty Sympathy
Clamp it shut with fingers of
Chemical Laughter
Hold it together with shaky hands of
Liquid pain relief
A wound, deep and wide
Remains.
A wound,deep and wide
Gaping, Ragged, Bleeding
Clean with Love
Stitch together with Truth
Soothe with the
Balm of Gilead
Anoint with Oil
Healed reminder of grace
The awful gift was given to us in front of a bunch.
I saw my wife and her mother grimace, so I had a hunch
They were not totally in love with this ugly bugly offering.
But it came from my favorite Aunt, we call her Aunt Zing.
Aunt Zing had wrapped it with a flourish, a ribbon of red.
It was tied up with fuzz balls, pearls, and a stuffed doll cat head.
I knew by the wrapping that she thought it was a terrific lamp.
It was so ugly it was cute, with jingle bells fashioned to clamp.
My wife brought it out whenever Auntt Zing came to visit us.
Pretending it was always there, not to cause any fuss.
Aunt Zing took me aside one day and said it made her feel joy.
Never thought she’d like this ugly buggly thing, she is a keeper my boy.
A kiss is a stamp, a seal,
of the taking in of the essence of one,
two-, to steal of that goodly feel.
A bliss, a steal, a clamp so true,
A gesture pure, from me to you.
It takes in essence, of the goodly feel,
A bond so strong, nothing can steal.
A kiss under the stars, a magical rite,
Whispers of sweet nothings, in the night.
It ignites a flame, a passion so wild,
A connection that's untouchable, undefiled.
A kiss on the forehead, a symbol of care,
A moment so tender, that none can impair.
It soothes the soul, and wipes away fears,
A touch so gentle, that brings healing tears.
A kiss on the lips, a symbol of love,
A bond so strong, sent from above.
It seals a promise, an unbreakable bond,
A love that lasts, and forever beyond.
A kiss, a stamp, a seal so divine,
It marks a moment, amore-eel
electric frozen in time.
An act of pure giving, with nothing to lose
but a stare, can yet enliven, so there.
A simple gesture of the love of now, here,
but with so much to choose and dare, endear.
My hands hold a strange reminder
Of your presence
When I pray
Or when I play
There's a texture of sadness
Yet a warmth of affection
A rough surface of unknowing
Yet a fireside tingle after the icy snowing
I may have travelled since you knew me
Or maybe
I still sit in the same chair
As memories clamp me there
Silvery chopstick
That kissed by the blue fire
Healed my wound of divine aspire.
Brushed in the fur of the beast,
Smothered my faith to abide
Will my soul subside?
Hot metal gripped in iron clamp,
Thy fury of fortitude of time
Of thy fate mockingly sublime.
The joy of watching my cats
Play because they actually
Act just like small children
Who has their own personality
They're playful and kind in many ways
You have one that acts uppity
Like she's high class above the rest
And she shows it with the
Things she does, her actions
Then you have the coward
Who's afraid of everything, if you
Clamp your hands, he takeoff
And then you have the bully
Who sneaks up her the opponent
And jumps them every chance she gets
Then you have the one that acts just
Like a lady, big and fluffy, lay sideways
With her front legs stretch out batting her long lashes
They're even jealous of each other
Amazing
It was one of those days again.
A spoon full of syrup,
Another needle,
Sugary sweet.
Crimson blood,
White sheets.
Repent your sins,
Take a breath,
For it may be your last.
White walls,
Bleach and latex gloves,
“Stop shaking,” They say,
“It’ll be over in a second.”
No pain,
Mindless abyss.
Hospital gowns,
Sweaty brows.
Back stiff against the metal table.
Syringes full of my life.
Drip, drip, drip.
Just breathe,
Take a breath.
Discarded plastic cups,
Fluttering papers held by the clamp of metal.
The clicking of computer keys.
Swallow,
Choke,
Eyes full of tears.
Yes,
It was indeed one of those days again.
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