His clothes are on my back
my word is in his head
you thought you felt him move to the other side of the bed
When he tells you his busy, drowning in overtime
well my room is his new office and your lips have become mine
You say it’s been a while and you don’t know where he’s been
perhaps he is just busy, seeing things he’s never seen
You’ll find us in the darkness
tracing over each white lie
you should hear the truth and all his reasons why
he’s meeting them for coffee, running errands, got dinner plans
and you just believe him, ice melting in his hand
I suppose I could be courteous and sit you down face to face
but he’s coming over and I’ve picked out my best lace
I know you’re not an angel
you lost that halo long a go
I don’t think you could fathom
just how much I know
So I better go, get ready
I wouldn’t wait up late
he’ll be kept busy
he has a lot on his plate
I know you’re still reading, I know you are a fan
Sincerely,
His only man
Not a single word etched the air between us.
Yet somehow, it was loud enough;
So only the universe heard.
You never knew the chaos in me.
The way I cursed myself,
Even every corner of existence.
But your calm...
It settled storms I had long forgotten how to name.
You didn't teach me how to bloom.
You just stood there, and suddenly,
I became spring!
Because something in you,
Reached everything in me.
And maybe...
Maybe you'll never know what you did.
The magic with which you spun,
An ordinary day felt like a little story worth remembering.
But I do.
They don’t exist
Not really, no.
But when they look at me,
It starts to show.
Somewhere between
The screen and sky,
Jean smirks sweet,
Reiner breathes a sigh.
Jean
With every glance,
He knows I’m caught,
His playful grin
Is all I’ve sought.
Laughing so gently,
His heart’s so true,
In a world full of chaos,
I’m his only view.
Reiner
When I’m with him,
The world feels right,
He pulls me close
And holds me tight.
His steady gaze
Sees straight through me,
His heart’s a place
Where I’m meant to be.
They’re not real
But they’re all I see.
In every scene,
In every line.
They stay with me,
In ways I can’t explain,
A connection that’s mine,
Beyond the frame.
ART!
He painted my death,
With such dedication I've never seen before.
Every stroke of his brush, on that paper, marking out each curve, twist, and turn my body made
As I writhed in pain.
Premeditated murder, or a death masquerading as suicide, or perhaps just an unlucky soul.
My hands on my throat as I choked to death,
He didn't need to add a drop to my tea to pronounce me dead.
Because every time I brushed his gift to me,
I was gasping and blushing at how beautifully he depicted my death,
And swore that it was breathtaking.
It was really breathtaking!
My body was found lying on the green grass,
Sprawled in a weirdly shaped position, just as he had predicted.
I gave him his last gift:
A live picture of me modeling his artwork, in afterlife.
Who would know that arsenic was the green-dye monster,
But was also made into a painting to die for.
Emer
This feels too much like deja vu,
the days and nights of a biblioklept.
It’s what the book-bosomed must do,
taking in every chapter as you slept.
Being such an omnilegent person
it’s hard to run across something fresh.
Reading’s such pure introverted fun,
with each word I want gooseflesh.
I wander to each town bouquiniste
on the lookout for a page turner.
I’m hungry for a clever plot twist,
that story that’s an acid burner.
There is no place I would rather be
then inhaling the scent of this paper.
Serene and content in a lectory
escaping into a wild fictional caper.
I love to go running through my head
inside a space where I have no phobia.
While in reality I am filled with dread
suffering from debilitating abibliophobia.
It would be so nice to feel the warmth of your lips
Before you come to take me away from here
It hurts to admit, that the problem is
That you’ve left me too soon, my dearest dear
I’m not saying the spiritual world is all fictional
That its only subliminal thoughts and desires
People’s sensual visions appear to reveal
That true love is eternal, and so it inspires
To imagine a world of alternative kind
Where the lovers and friends are together again
What seems fictional, comes from the reality side
It’s a case of creation we can’t understand
But to believe in the things unattainable
Is an innate capacity of the human mind
What seems unreal can be real and available
Depends on how deeply we feel it inside
I know that it sounds complicated, my darling
But it has to be so without you in my day
I won’t miss your call the next time you’ll be calling
One night you will becon, and I won’t delay.
Hey!!
I assumed that fictional men only exists in fictional world
until I met u
Like I wanna pinch you nd check
whether you r real one r fake one
Dude you're literally far away
frm other guys
You're more than best!!!!
Just your single stare is enough to make anyone's heart pound;
It's certainly impossible not to blush when u r around.
When my world is otherworldly...
Built and bent on friction,
Often I make my escape
Into a form of fiction.
Whether book, a game or film...
Whatever entertains,
Its makeup can expand my mind
Without loss - only gains.
Words of something I can read
Ignite my imagination...
I see what is written in
A vision of creation.
Short or long, it doesn't matter...
Images in my mind
Can leave my otherworldly world
Somewhere far behind.
When I play a game, I can
Go somewhere else and be
Somebody on another mission...
Someone unlike me.
Strategically, I make my way
Until its campaign ends.
I can do this by myself
Or engage with my friends.
Watching videos of shows,
Movies and otherwise
Provide a feast of visions for
My open, hungry eyes.
I prefer to separate
What I view on the screen
From what can sometimes be in life
Better unheard or seen.
Fiction in its many makes
Can open and inspire...
Igniting what can be ablaze
With its own flames of fire.
When your world is otherworldly,
Try a piece of fiction.
The answer can sometimes be found
In another's depiction.
FICTION
In realms of fantasy, they find their thrill
A world of wonder, where hearts stand still
A escape from reality's harsh light
Where danger's allure, is a siren's call to fight
They'd rather dance with dragons, than face the day
Embrace the unknown, than live in a world of grey
Their hearts beat fast, with a hero's desire
To leave the mundane, and set their souls on fire
In fiction's embrace, they find their delight
A world of magic, where darkness takes flight
They'd rather risk it all, for a taste of the unknown
Than live a life of norms, where adventure is but a moan
For in the pages, of a well-worn book
They find their courage, their heart, their hook
A way to escape, the dull and the grey
And live a life of wonder, in a world of play
So let them dream, let them roam
In the realms of fantasy, where hearts call home
For in the fiction, they find their glee
A way to live, wild and free.
I don't want to get lost in fictional worlds anymore
The one I am surrounded with
The one in my head
It is already too much to store
Immersed, overwhelmed, drowned
In the ocean of emotions
That engulfs me every time I open a page of a book
I get sucked into these lands
Devoid of the notions of time and space
I explore these worlds as a baby would
Eyes wide, curious, hungry for knowledge
For the thrill of leaving reality behind and getting consumed by my imagination
Meanwhile, my brain gets flooded with bizarre concoctions
They sow their seeds deep into my memory
And then blossom recklessly
Wither and die, do some
The others live/grow with me forever.
Looking at the stars, I think about you…
Remembering ur charms, that made me feel ululu..
Your those brownish tangled hair…
Whom I always want to stare…
Your those ocean deep eyes..
Where my whole world lies..
Your that straight, lil red nose..
From where the anger always blows
Your those slight rough pair of lips…
From where the marvelous words slips..
Your that sharp & attractive jawline..
attracting me like its my lifeline..
In short, your that beautiful, gorgeous face…
Which always makes my heartbeat race…
And your that not so famous smile…
Oh god!! It always succeed to run my heart mile..
Oh!! I forgot to mention your amazing humor…
Which increases the beauty of ur glamour
He used his fists, I heard him shout
“clearing those temper demons out”
A bloodied nose, a blackened eye
Drink turns him into a violent guy
Black bruises fade, so does their pain
But the mental scars always remain
I want to leave, I’ve tried and tried
He drags me back, oh how I’ve cried
Held captive - I am a beaten wife
Who can’t escape this abusive life
Random Phrases Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Miranda Hawley
06/09/2023
Please recall Louise is fictional.
She cannot walk in the park with a dog,
or do somersaults.
She won't be found at Bartholomew Library
reciting poetry.
She is and always will be fictional,
so cannot be so viewed.
Again, I stress she's fictional, completely, completely, for all time,
for already you imagine her with dog
that won't stop barking,
admire her cleverness in Bartholomew's gymnastic class,
or hear her quiet voice
giving poetry something it hasn't had for years.
4/5/2023
Well, Howdy, Miss Belinda.
I am Rob, Pangie’s hearthrob.
Her TV is tuned to Waco,Texas!
To watch Trump in satisfaction.
That mensch, is who he is!
That’s her next POTUS in action.
Though the Left wants him in traction.
She admires his integrity.
Won’t bend to Woke Satisfaction!
15,000 of all colors in attendance!
We all raise our glasses high.
To America, to have a rebirth of abundance
Best wishes,
Rob, Newscaster
*********************
NEWSMAXTV.COM
AVAILABLE TO ALL DEVICES
HIS SHOW, ON 4pm and 8pm PST.
3/25/2023
La Boheme Series Haiku — Mimi Dies
songs call love ~
bread with wine beg warmth ~
too late come some chances granted
——————————————————————
————
(c)sally young eslinger 6/2022
Thanks be to God
With hugs, dear Puccini
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