Since: Dec 12

Location hidden

#346 Dec 30, 2012
Original CYP

My mind that which belongs to me

The world cannot take nor control

For it is fortified with

Love, Harmony, and Reflection

When sleep comes not to me I pick the poppies from the garden

Lovingly extracting its properties which make for me a sleeping potion

My head upon my pillow

I dream of internal Peace

My mind releases disquieting and oppressive thoughts

Here the unconscious speaks to me

The minds locus of implicit knowledge

Brings forth the Cries

Be Yourself

Be Yourself

And Remember

You are always evolving as you walk your path

Therefore, let go of resisting yourself

For when you do what you want

It will manifest effortlessly and synchronistically

Stepping Stones of life then become easier to follow

What needs to happen will

What doesn’t need to happen wont

Align yourself with your Essence

Embrace your purpose in this life

Be the nonjudgmental observer of your reality

Listen to the silence pervading all things

Return to true beingness

Know that you are the awareness that is simply being what it is

So that Peace shall be your shadow

As you walk amongst the world.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#347 Dec 30, 2012
Night falls.

One’s heart descends

infinite steps,

enormous galleries

until it encounters sorrow.

There it rests, lying,

there, vanquished,

lies its own being.

Man can

bear it on his shoulders in order to ascend anew

toward the light sorrow-

fully: he can walk forever,

walk …

Thou who art able,

give us our daily resurrection!
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#348 Dec 30, 2012
She is neither pink nor pale,
And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,
And her mouth on a valentine.

She has more hair than she needs;
In the sun `tis a woe to me!
And her voice is a string of coloured beads,
Or steps leading into the sea.

She loves me all that she can,
And her ways to my ways resign;
But she was not made for any man,
And she never will be all mine.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#349 Dec 30, 2012
No one understood the perfume
of the dark magnolia of your womb.
Nobody knew that you tormented
a hummingbird of love between your teeth.

A thousand Persian little horses fell asleep
in the plaza with moon of your forehead,
while through four nights I embraced
your waist, enemy of the snow.

Between plaster and jasmins, your glance
was a pale branch of seeds.
I sought in my heart to give you
the ivory letters that say “siempre”,

“siempre”,“siempre”: garden of my agony,
your body elusive always,
that blood of your veins in my mouth,
your mouth already lightless for my death.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#350 Dec 30, 2012
Then came the darker sooner,
came the later lower.
We were no longer a sweeter-here
happily-ever-after. We were after ever.
We were farther and further.
More was the word we used for harder.
Lost was our standard-bearer.
Our gods were fallen faster,
and fallen larger.
The day was duller, duller
was disaster. Our charge was error.
Instead of leader we had louder,
instead of lover, never. And over this river
broke the winter’s black weather.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#351 Dec 30, 2012
Marriage is not
a house or even a tent

it is before that, and colder:

The edge of the forest, the edge
of the desert
the unpainted stairs
at the back where you squat
outside, eating popcorn

where painfully and with wonder
at having survived even
this far

you are slowly learning to make fire !
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#352 Dec 30, 2012
Like dust raised up from the road for a moment

By the wind that comes and goes,

The hollow breath of life lifts us up

From nothing, stops, and returns us to nothing.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#353 Dec 31, 2012
Saucy séance
outlined in symmetrical ambience
she and her love to sway
amidst the silence of silhouette
underneath cellulite clothed lies
she's not fat, nor is she too thick
but their translation of sex language
is disguised in matrimony and modern day
womanly vow ties
her lips would paint that familiar kiss
upon she, whose mouth responds like a
feminine man, with strong lips
those fingertips fasten to the rhythm of dire need
cell phone frequencies bleed
countless hours of private chats, dry:
“prompt your love into my hunger view
you're so beautiful, baby”
--oh baby, you're my sweet tasting bitch, aren't you--

Such words are pronounced as the wrong kind of love
but the love that they share isn't to be enjoyed
by male viewers
although irony is a hilarious device
opting to peek through Alice's looking glass
for the sheer thrill of it
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#354 Dec 31, 2012
dandy discussions divulged
coolly beneath neatly couth
compliance, calmly defiant

relying on live audiences
chess thumb pretenders
worn out suspenders

lounging in bow-tie and cigar
feedback pressed pants
loathsome loafers, to match

how to pronounce profound
without being founded by pro-logic
produced by pro-tools

manners aligned in hindsight herald
read by the collar of convenience
spots checked for spot less blemish

ironed outside for in-crowds
looking out-side, from here on, out
knots choked for acknowledgement
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#355 Dec 31, 2012
Pliable pleasures conducting
pressure between applied limbs
elongated explicit ecstasies
explained in echoing expletives
euphoric sensations
provoked by plentiful positions
expressed as we push each other
beyond limits of enter-galactic passion
lubricated liquids overflowing
runneth over towards drowning...us
let's drown in the dirty decisive
grown folks fuck action
fingertips fiddling & tongues tumbling
through bodily rumbling
our bodies conjoined,
blissfully merged
orgasmic, intensified
with each thrust, push, and pull
as I inquire
hey baby, how do you want it?
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#356 Dec 31, 2012
She calls me daily, throughout aired out voice
due to cell phone cadence
I listen to her devotion to another love
that she thought she'd find with me
only to find something that she doesn't like
now her mind races through the tracks of thought
privately in the guise of a private dinner
that wasn't supposed to take place
but there she sat, across from a man that she's known
through intimate setting
a black tie affair, high heeled strut
dry champagne for those thirsty throats
quenching a drink that drowns out every belch
beneath the burden of begging bliss
I follow close behind, watching each affectionate pause
each laugh, each sigh as she enjoys every moment all the more
so when she calls me back, with a sigh of relief
I know where the sensation originates from
she promises she's just happy at the thought of talking to me
but I know better
she's in a better place, because of him
not me
I continue to carry on as if
I don't suspect a thing
as I thumb through photos of her and him
sent to me, anonymously
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#357 Jan 1, 2013
so much matters
when

you are so far
away

missing your heart
beat

full of passion
and desire

welcome
home
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#358 Jan 1, 2013
blurred couture
she beckons
nothing more
than love through
a looking glass
I'm too busy
looking at her ass
from this looking
glass
I tie her hands to
the bedpost
command her
through slaps, smacks,
and grips
her body becomes
the perfect orchestra

photo perfect, I capture her
without complication
complimenting
her manual stimulation
entertaining my
enjoyment
our mutual masturbation
calms the storm
amidst our conflict of comfort
it isn't fair but yet, it is
her hair wipes away
the sins from my sweaty skin
while I lay in repose
our lovemaking tires me so
yet she cradles me silently
a voyeur could see
that we enjoy to perform
yet we shy inside of sensual privacy
private parts to some
exposed hedonism to the rest
the grope of her gallop
while she straddle..
.s...
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#359 Jan 1, 2013
saxophone sonnets
broken odes to purchased bliss
Coltrane achingly croons
through thin hotel walls
and visible burbon whiskey

cornered near the alley
oxford footsteps climb concrete
waltzing with wanton heat
coined by panty boulevards
stuffed $ fifty $ bills for overworked
late night working girls

the nearby fading rain trickles
along a steamy window sill
dried devotions, dripping still
as ghostly faucets
listening to pleasure for sale
until the final split of silence
romance and reality lies there

and that governs slanted thought
condemned conviction, rather
asking later
did you get what you paid for
a cigarette and epic thighs
cinnamon proposals, draping
amongst wandering, bedroom skin

Since: Dec 12

Location hidden

#360 Jan 1, 2013
Original
CYP

I have walked your road paved in misery

Scars upon my feet

Walked until my lips were parched

And I cried unto the Rain

I have walked your road paved in misery

Walked among the Thorn Roses

Blood dripping

From my fingers tips

I have walked your road paved in misery

The Vine rotting in the Field

The Grapes putrid on the Ground

Drank your Poisoned Wine

I have walked your road paved in misery

Walking even in the

Snow

Bitter

Bitter

Cold

And I cried Unto the Sun

I have walked your road paved in misery

The one you spoon fed me

From infancy

Drank your rancid milk

Until I could walk your road paved in misery no more
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#361 Jan 1, 2013
Clay grew roots for itself
in the hidden heart of the jungle,
dazed and insipid,
sliding noddily
mongst graceful layers of shadow,
reaving orchids of their marrow
and careless about some senile snake’s hissing.
it’d want, the yellow,
to smear the sky with soft patches,
but the wings of butterflies won’t wait for it
to crush their silken powder
under its humid pressure.
and the clay grows,
like earth’s yeast,
grows like a lace of sinful foam,
teaching the jungle to die
and draining the air
of the heartbeats’ perfume,
just hoping that one day
it’ll be able to swing on vines
up to the stars….....
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#362 Jan 1, 2013
the ball-room is empty,
and the ghosts of pirouettes
haunt the royal ferns hiding
from the rivers of anthracite
avalanching through the satin curtains.
a single phantom orchid
lies dying on the black marble floor,
like a winged perfumed acrostic
translucently echoing moonlight’s jewels.
…would you be my ink-keeper tonight?...
I feel not skilled enough
to cup in my palms
the orphan molecules of darkness,
and they flow between my fingers,
fragrant with my pulse –
the waltz that crushed you
now gropes for absolution
in the stratosphere –
and on the catafalque of silence
the countless shards of your dismembrance
are now merely the renegade limbs
of others’ carelessness.

Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#363 Jan 1, 2013
tonight i'm fishing in unknown waters,
baiting words
with your blind eye globes
hanging from the opaline hook of my voice.
the clouds
paved with my gaze
roll under fake hooves
and pyres chant
of how you once saw the unseeable…
inhaling your breath
would be the only way to fill my lungs
with the memory of the scent
of the blood gushing from Achilles’ heel
and with Hecuba’s barking at the fallen walls,
i know…
so blame me for casting now my net
insanely bold
in the pellucid drama of another point in time,
when gods were lesser and heroes were more
than the sand under your soles…
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#364 Jan 1, 2013
Once upon a chapter
I was

rubbing your parched lips with sand
while date-trees shadowed your masochism.
you kept asking for water
with a raucous voice,

and camels ignored us.

you died in my arms then,
smearing my cheek with your last breath
and naming me divine

and I sieved my sand over you
to hide your corpse from vultures.

the next mouldy morning
you grew through me
branching

into basic elements
you split me
seeking my water

ignoring the camels.

you planted a date
between my teeth
and closed my eyes
and taught me
that, which i already knew.

I died
winged by your breath then
and anointing you “unnamed”.

the date rooted in my mouth
and turned me into an oasis.
your oasis.

no camels -
just water and date-trees.

and us.
undying.

Since: Dec 12

Location hidden

#365 Jan 1, 2013
Original
CYP

Closing my eyes

Listening to the Rain

As it sings a sweet lullaby

To

Me

Sleep………………

Child sleep……………………….

Shush little baby said the moon to I

As the wind brushed the hair from my face

You’re cradled in the Clouds

The STARS

CHILD

They

Blanket

You

Return to the infancy of imbibition

Latch once more with the Mother’s Breast

And

Accept the Mother’s Energy

Let it always be your

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