The dust of eons has not named me,
why would dust name dust?
I who have entered the world
through so many women,
and exited its bold-faced deceits
as sexless as a worm or an apple,
how then can I claim any name?
I recall being five-years old,
or maybe six.
a fever took me,
I lay in a white hospital sepulcher for days
until a mother whispered into my mind:
"Not yet."
I knew not which mother,
for all my mothers have been named
by passing dust storms.
My parents, who had previously entered
the flesh of the worm and apple,
also exited my whirlwind life,
though after they had named me
John,
and I am the one
who names Jesus now.
Today I hear his laughter,
I hear his merry laughter.
If I can be honest
I must cranberry confess
I really don’t want it
No longer need your sex
I don’t mean you
Are invaluable to me
Just mean I don’t want
All that huffing and puffing
I giggle sometimes
At myself for lemon lime
Is the taste of the sexless
And it is still good to eat
Between the sheets of paper poetry
I did once enjoy so now I don’t
Change my mind want a sexless song
To sing as a fire sign soul
It’s not that I don’t love
I guess I love me more
Cranberry confessions
Sexless obsessions
Companion Poetry is about Eternal God
The Divines which are Mother Mary and the Saints
Written words are based on Jac’s Poetrysoup Corner & 517Jacqueline in poetrysoup.com
To explore the world of mental illness through Poetry
To gain a deeper understanding of the world around us
“Do not be carried away with all Kinds of teaching
We have an altar and a Church that is yours
Return home with us and follow Me, you will get 100x in return”
It is a connection with others going through the same struggles
Struggles of getting Divine Toys for sexless marriage
To lessen Abortion, Rape, AIDS or STDs
Where society’s support is necessary
Get your pen and paper, Laptop, Alpha Smart or yourTablet
Start thinking of a Theme or a Topic 3052024
Divine toys are made for sexless Marriage
To finally make their fruit
It is okay to Eternal God
But not okay with people
Eternal God has a wide wisdom
He knows it is for enjoyment of people
It is a tool to lessen abortion
Although Eternal God said, tell the priest that the babies are safe in heaven
Why are people forbidding it
It is used to help people
Acquire happiness
Thought that Eternal God is for people’s happiness
Pick up toys
Enjoyment of people
(Leeza, my roommate Lisa’s little sister, was off-tha-hook earlier this summer)
thirteen
peach flesh
fabuk buster
nu-metal priss
sexless breasts
bitten fingernails
dirty babyskin feet
mirror mesmerized
straight-eyed honesty
grouchapottamus
without analysis
corollary sister
wide eyed
hot mess
skinny
pacer
bella
doe
.
.
Webster: Corollary: something that naturally follows another (like sisters)
slang…
off tha hook = out of control
fabuk = rotten banana
buster = acts like a punk-b*tch
nu-metal = new generation heavy metal, hated by purists
priss = baby
grouchapottamus = someone perpetually grouchy and edgy
hot mess = a handful, a piece of work, a colorful character.
pacer = very smart, hard to keep up with, sets the pace
bella = someone to handle with care
doe = girl
Krispy = super exclusive
*Update: Leeza tested into some krispy math-camp and that apparently calmed her down.
Dark eyed dangerous messenger
Powerful passionate villain
Not a bomb maker nor war politician
But an agent of darkness
In my dreams he came
After weeks of dark discussions
Doctors, tests, hospice, possible resting place
I left their offices quiet and calm
Asked the right questions
Made practical plans
But in the night a strangeness came
I'd bond with the angel of darkness
No winged sexless smiling blond
It was a mysterious powerful force
And thus to my dark angel I was drawn
The Bargain
I was an Angel once
Jealous of mankind
Jealous of their lofty dreams
Their overconfidence
How could they aspire
to such greatness
With so many limitations
Yes I was jealous
For Angels do not know passion
We are sexless creatures
Love is but an idea
Our heart’s have a formless void
We have to many hours
Nothing of note occupies our minds
Sure our Father gave us wings
We possess great strength
We can control the winds
Still we do not have His full favour
That belongs to the humans
What is an Eternity without dreams?
We have no need of sleep
Gluttony has no sway without appetite
I possessed no great ambition
My one purpose
My only purpose
To protect the humans
Those oblivious beings
Even those who did not believe
So dear friend
I made a bargain
Choosing to change places
Him, he always wanted to fly
Eternal life added to the bargain
Fifty years go by so quickly
I did not know about aches and pains
Love and passion were fleeting things
My ambition was blind
Now I am destined to meet my brother
The Angel of Death will come for me
He will not recognize me
For I relinquished my wings.
I'm stepping out of the shower
with the towel wrapped around my waist,
the doorbell rings, I trip on my shoes...
I grasp for air; good grief, it's Janet!
I can tell by her expression that she's mad,
and before she explodes, I say it loud and clear:
Skip the kiss, Cherry...I'm hanging out
with the nicest girl who loves how I treat her
without demanding a thing:
all you want is a casual sling!
Skip the kiss, Cherry...
go back to your sexless Willy
who is jealous of me!
Skip the kiss, Cherry...
Juliet doesn't drink,
she doesn't smoke;
her body has no tattoos:
she's the woman I like to marry
and have lots of kids...
you'll remain a delusive broad,
and crying you'll go to bed!
Skip the kiss, Cherry:
keep your regrets and tears...
I gave you too much bliss!
P.S. I have posted a track of the music I composed for, " Skip The Kiss , Cherry "on Sound Cloud.com
Said Earth's Oceanic Therapist
to Heaven's Meditation Master,
Silent,
aparting meditation
naturally exhales
toward inhaling wet green co-passion
dipolar communions
following appositive surfing inquisitions
of courageously resilient undercurrents
turbulantly co-arising curiosity.
Wanting,
needing,
craving an orgiastic climax
bilateral
dipolar warm and welcome baptizing
Without first give and taking turns
active working,
listening and speaking
nonviolent foreplay
co-passioning cooperative intent,
Is like going to church,
singing Bach's Alleluia Chorus
before getting back into our aparting cars
and trucks,
trains and planes,
ready for another exhaustive
extractive
sexless secular week
of win/lose devolutionary
impotent weakness,
Sang Earth's sex therapist
to Heaven's green communion liturgist.
sexual are my
words sexless
is my world
a sunset
i see her
going down
a bud to a
bloom to a
blossom
i'm
just
a bee
mine
is
yellow
what color
was Freud's
slip
A message
An angel sat on the window ledge
Wanted to come in which was understandable
It was a cold night. Walk through the window glass
for heaven’s sake, you are an angel
the angel refused it would ruffle its wings.
He opened the window and let it in and since it
was worried about its looks he took it to be a female.
The angle denied this insisted it was sexless, God
had sent her (he refused to call it It)
The message was.: It has come to my attention
that my son Jesus is an avid reader of your poems,
and as you know, he isn`t well since the crucifixion
has become left winged (pardon the pun).
He forms his worldview according to what you write,
so be a good man and tone it down a bit or else!
God is your friend.
So why didn`t he say so himself? Well she said
he doesn’t like to interfere with human affairs.
Melancholy
This is a blue day it is like having a ring
of steel pressing against my head.
Nothing matters there is no outlet and I want to go home,
anywhere, to get away from myself.
I sit on the terrace look at the view it is ing boring
bloody sea like I shouldn’t have seen it before
after thirty years as a mariner.
This morning I saw athletic people running along the promenade
I sat in my car looked at my considerable stomach,
so that is what has become of me a fat old man sinking into
the woollen atmosphere of self-loathing the hatred against
the world only a loser feels.
Sexless, useless old age has made me a eunuch whatever this
means I might have got the wrong spelling of the word and
my own poetry is not uplifting, too harmful to be read by anyone
who isn`t contemplating suicide?
it all I will write no more, go sit in a bar till they throw me out.
(Henriette hired Fernand Labori, the superstar
defence lawyer who had recently acted for
Dreyfus. Old and cynical, he advises her to
play on her sexy image.)
6. Fernand Labori
I've long since left off thinking of it thus.
It's putting on an act, that's all it is.
The ones who play it honest miss the bus.
You'll give it drama, colour, fervour, fizz.
A woman's always stronger than a man,
since men are tethered by the nether parts.
I'm sure you'll give it everything you can.
Your jurors are all men -- so break their hearts!
You have the looks, so hit them where they live.
You shot a man to death? The nation shrugs.
The only thing the French will not forgive
is if you're sexless. Let them see those dugs.
Admit it all, and argue crime of passion.
Oh yes, you took a gun, but meant restraint.
To win the women, wear the latest fashion:
to win the men, it helps if you can faint.
Just flash an ankle, watch them strain their necks.
(And still, we label you the weaker sex!)
God's organic clothes are coming unglued,
seasonal seams tearing apart,
emerging alarmingly chaotic
whatever, dissonance?
Supremely straight white noise?
Next time,
I'll recover your naked monolithic culture
in clothes of hard rooted wood
and yet how would you wear them?
Who could?
Perhaps we did
when God grew a tree
like earthy S/He.
Children of Me/We healthy trees
defectively praying for underfed worker bees
while ripping apart Earth's fertile forests
becoming undressed deserts
Unflowing river sand beds
bereaving naked tree trunks
Dead dry
senseless
sexless headstones
where future children of trees
would otherwise have grown moist fruit,
divinely dressed.
Like a lost child
or a bumpy car.
I jolt around,
banging into people.
"Are you my mammy?"
Craving closeness
and warm touch,
I come on too strong,
revel too much.
Information that is
just the truth.
Of my restless, sexless,
search for you.
The you who
might care for me.
The me that won't
be bowed or tamed.
The me who
is not ashamed.
Of who I am,
or what's beneath.
The "too much
information speech."
If you're out there,
please come forward.
Before I fool
myself and others.
With cling on desire
to any who care.
To take advantage
of me... anywhere.
Sub Categories
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