lust
seeking
completion
irrational
selfish in her search
caring for no one else
she goes after what she wants
leaving sad people in her wake
unappeasable and determined
she’s always quenchless and unsatisfied
Paris, earlier today. It’s a (vaccinated) summer family reunion and I’m catching up with relatives I haven’t seen for AGES. Like my impeccably dressed (three piece suit on a warm, un-air-conditioned, Saturday) 83 year old great uncle.
We cheek kiss
“STILL searching for love, Uncle Remy?”
“Forget love. My dear, I’m an old, self-absorbed narcissist. What I look for is someone young and frivolous whose most complicated desire is fun - specifically fun that can be bought - that’s an important distinction.”
I gasp and pose.
“You’re looking for MEEEE!,” I squeal.
“Oh, if I needed a spoiled, over-serious, temperamental, unappeasable rich girl - I’d think of you.”
“You GET me!,” *I beam with pride*
'Tis I, your ruin ...
I, the scourge, unseen ... the "C" word
I am death's abettor, the bête noire
So do your worst, in my ruthless wake
The cold chaos of cells that rages rampant
Weaponizing blood and bone and marrow ... and breath
Seething untrammeled as the burn of abandon, afire
I play no favorites, I see no chalk or choice
Health is the meat of my prerogative, the blood of my intent
I strip vitality and strength from bones like a butcher
And hang them raw to be branded ... "terror"
I scrape beauty and flesh to maim motherhood, passion
I divest masculinity of its vital seed, choke the air from lungs, gasping
I ravage little lives before they begin, to glaze their sparkling eyes
I plunder and rape and kill in a thousand myriad fashions
One no less callous or malevolent than the other
And the only weapons you have to raise against me - your only hopes
Are near as vicious and unappeasable as I am, (smiling)
Oh, hear me and fear me, humankind ...
I am chasing, relentless ... your ruin.
~ 5th Place ~ in the "Topic Of Cancer" Poetry Contest, Craig Cornish, Judge & Sponsor.
Summertime in Malibu
Laying on the bed completely naked,
Watching the moon and drinking my Martini,
How I wish to have you at this moment, my summertime.
Without change anything except our bodies,
Our lips, our way of standing by one soul,
Hoping for a unseen love so beautiful, so pebbly off,
For a night and a day I can fall into these mountainous thoughts, and carry myself away into this nothingness
As they say it...
Ah, where are you, summertime? Where?
Under the widen edge of my bed, transfixed by more
Revelation, to your eyes closed, where the spirit
Wept in the darkness, telling me I am so unappeasable
To be carried without wonder?
No tears came from my eyes: the lovely flood of living,
When I froze the tranquil wave of the waiting
Pain of this imperial love that he had given
From inside me, I closed my legs --Oop!
My eyes and I go to sleep.
the rig sails on
the captain at the wheel
steel billowed crosswinds
and Willie's gruff twang
come back...maybe not flip-flop
rigs riggin' is sailin', movin'
waving goodbye to yesterday
I'm a stowaway into today
ahead is clear horizon
aft is crewed distant past
the ropes taut, creaking
and diseal's low rumble below
port is where we're headed
starboard is starry shafts
stern relentlessly unappeasable
riding the waves bowed
someday I'll tighten up
swigging the anchor line
laying roots off of route one
but at present, rig's tackin'
we're decked out directly
hauling freight, liners for
what in life we're lackin'
so, harden up to the wind
crestin' hill, descendin' trough
this rollercoaster ride of life
keeps sailin' on to skyline
just the mate 'n' the captain
© Goode Guy 2011-05-20
1 come back / flip-flop
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_CB_slang
2. swigging
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nautical_terms#S
3. harden up
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nautical_terms#H
OVER - CONFIDENCE
Unappeasable
Atlantic?
......Gigantic
Titanic
Sinkable?
......Unthinkable
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