College Magnetic Poetry Vol. 1

I eat her peach, like it was a screaming bed
Rob lathered her pink butt, like I said
She urges me to lick the bare breasts, or no head
They want the mist under the dress, and she is red
I cry, but think those rose petals are like a knife
My woman moans as we fall with spring through life
Smell sweet honey like a purple forest o’ eggs
He sees my finger smear next to the smooth hot leg
Watching two girls waxin’ & milkin’ without you
The gorgeous goddess needs his languid tongue to be true
Deliriously drunk & a repulsive moment recalls an ugly day
I felt the beauty whispering lust, wanting to play
Sweat leaves my apparatus juicy and shiny, always beating it away
Frantic spray floods the luscious garden from behind
Trying to swim beneath a language o’ an elaborate mind
Winter crushes drool over lovely eyes
On top, producing no sleep as we lie
Together, eternity is an essential chain
Manipulating me through bitter rain
Mothers can ask to stop, but still get to blow
I pound your fluff and then must go
Getting shot in some hair is easy when you are not above
Shadows o’ their enormous size is what you vision and love

Circa 1998

*Author’s Note: I feel I should explain this mess. It was written in college on a buddy’s fridge with the non-x-rated magnetic poetry. It is horribly juvenile and I love it all the more for that reason.

Advertisements

Last Night She Wore Garters

high-heels-1170499.jpg

Last night she wore garters
In spite of our fates, we were free
I brought wine redder than her lips
Wearing only a crucifix & a church key
We were intoxicatingly in love
I’ve sailed all the seas, always to return
There’s no other to own my heart
She’s the only one for whom I’ll ever yearn

It’s A Nondescript Alcove

living-room-581073.jpg

It’s a nondescript alcove
A humble place I can journal my deepest thoughts
I can write of my secret crushes & fond lovers
Decrypting moods of soul’s who cannot be bought
I’ll scribble away without any pressure to perform
These jottings belong to me; they’re only mine
Tomes dedicated to the craft of confession
A postscript punctuated with a toast of red wine

I Try To Avoid Union Meetings & Other Communist Propaganda

pripyat-1060276.jpg

I try to avoid union meetings & other Communist propaganda
Endless, mindless rhetoric hurts so bad it makes me want to shoot
Playing the role of an ordinary worker while planning to be elite
Think it through before you get all crazy & lick Stalin’s boot
When they steal your God will you realize that you’ve miss-stepped
Don’t forget to sign your party card, stand in bread lines so you’ll be fed
Unions ensure inferior work & elimination of competition
Grab your hammer & sickle, bow down to your idols you’ve painted red

Let Me Paint Your Lips Red

redlips.jpg

Let me paint your lips red
The quiet pampering into the night
Let me whisper your possibilities
Popping each button in the flattering light
Silhouettes upon the fresh bedsheets
Mere ideals of what we might be
My body aching for another touch
Your kiss; the only thing to set me free

Sunshine Breaking Out Over The Sky

new-brighton-1239724.jpg

Sunshine breaking out over the sky
Cautious in preparation to be red
Warmth colouring your crystal eyes
Wrapped in those sacred words we said
Comfortable with the path to return
Incoherent love to forever please
Ensuring we will never again burn
Dreams built upon another with ease

I’ve Been Studying Your Rules

women-772666.jpg

I’ve been studying your rules
So I can break them to bits
I still don’t call myself a poet
But I always appreciated your tits
Your other toys have fancy degrees
Me -only a Velveteen soul that’s real
It’s battered, but not forever bitter
Just want to feel you again in the red heels

Cold War Runways Still Clearly Marked

residential-1149514

Cold war runways still clearly marked
A legacy of certain impending doom
Farmhouse grill just the other side
These suburbanites need more room
Lost family values since those days
Deteriorated grain silos crumble in rust
Red wooden barn needing more paint
Orchard roads merely a path of dust
Good soil to grow your dreams in
Futures not to be hindered by our past
Imagine a world where children are free
Free to imagine a peace that will last