A Potpourri of Expressions in Word...
SLACK

United States

#981 Jul 7, 2013
Le Beau Mec DeVine wrote:
These eyes that hold sadness, but never bear tears,
These ears that hears arrows of taunting and
mockery that pierce the heart and soul.
This mouth that never opens to defend itself,
opens only in dreams,mouthing words that no one
finds time to listen to.
This body, un-cut, un-mutilated, impeccably pure-
but only on the outside.
On the inside, shattering slowly inch by painful
inch, rotting, crumbling from inside,
But you don't know
Because
You never ask,
and when I tell You,
You never listen.
sup pie

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#985 Jul 9, 2013
INIQUITOUS wrote:
peach of a grape
in my fingertips
like holding home
I nose its sweet musk
Taste,
and parts my lips with a globe and
a thumb I lick
I bite the thick skin
Her sexual throb aches
sweet
on my tongue
Her hand vines my chin my throat
My face flames
To the lady on the bus
she brags
Her blush comes from my touch.
Better to marry than to burn
she quotes
She don’t know us, huh ?
Reported.
Did you know

United States

#1002 Jul 13, 2013
INIQUITOUS wrote:
this poem
or what purports to be a poem
(any and all poems should be revised at least 20 times
but this is a stream of consciousness that wants to flow
and not be dammed or damned)
repeat: this poem
wants to be about ice
wet and dry
because it is cold and ice came to mind
wet ice (water ice) puddles when thawing
dry ice (carbon dioxide) sublimates
the vapors rip themselves off from the lump
unhook
steam (though not H2O steam)
escape their solid state (yes, this is redundant)
like human consciousness
(yes, no musical quality in the above lines)
(icicles aren't the planks of a xylophone)
the first person singular
if it could be used but it can not be used
(arbitrary contrariness on this ego-infested day)
would like water ice because you can drink it
swim in it, float on it, steam over it
like an ocean, bay, lake
this poem which shouldn't be about a poem
should say how nice ice is
and give advice in rhyme
(it won't; it eschews advice and rhyme altogether
[its lies burn naked truth])
damn, this poem is a puddle
readers step through (maybe over) until tomorrow
(when something linear, not cubic, will be written)
room temperature was too much for it though
CO2 doesn't leave a stain
H2O rots the floorboards of language
illustrates its past by carving a niche
or laying its great dissolve
onto a now dry weakened surface
like the mind after not revising
ad infinitum the obsession
of petty gripes, word play, image-making
let this entertain those wet behind the ears
the dry wits can go sublimate
this poem had to be written because
a contract was signed in water
30 days and 30 nights must pass
before blank screens can be left alone
so until then little tiny cubes nest in the screen
blocking up the pores of summer with winter
maybe the hot breath of carbon dioxide
may burn through the poem
like some kind of suggestion about life
but readers must not plop CO2 in their drinks
and so here is a toast to absurdity
the human condition without personal
suffering
otherwise there is an ocean of meaning
that may be cold
bitter
cold
but that is too freezing an idea to drink
so here is a toast to the liquid form
on which
if we have enough of it
we can float
Brisbane is the epicenter of phaggots?

“Clinton or Trump?”

Since: Jun 08

...i hope they both lose....

#1017 Jul 20, 2013
...here i sit......broken hearted.......

....came to shh..........oh......nevermind .......

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#1032 Jul 21, 2013
Juan del Cuatro wrote:
What was innocuous became ill
the thrill of blue expiring
the clouds interlacing
ghostly
shrouding crowns
a hoot reserves its sound.
She is not at home today
not at home today not at home.
Mama shucks nuts
a rock with each quick shuck.
She could grow old
her body colder
difficult to hold
each nut so still
to be an older Mama.
She must watch her back.
The two trod gleefully beside.
Her pride loosens
right there
in the middle
mid-way
levitating
a stalking mind.
Perceptions
the heavy din of flies.
They think her scary
amorphous and large
unsure of what species to assign.
No not a tiger, not a bison.
They climb trees
and reprieve bad ideas.
Perhaps they should shoot her
or fuck her
perhaps throw down
a viscous pot of honey.
But that’s just tree talk
trees being trees.
Swaying
what makes a walk, walk.
The two pawing onwards
limbs bracing.
Mama walks....
To know in excess
blackness heats her brain.
Watching
much different than looking
Different from acknowledging.
The watch
a smack on her back.
She is a big brown casualty loping
the slopes are high
forecast says,
wondering whose projection this is
the record shuts itself
a cloud wipes away.
As if positioned there
is only one way
that thinking coheres.
A small bat flutters
upside down
an intellectualism separate
from world-activity.
Her hours occupied
with other beings
sometimes a language
isn’t shared
an instinctive track
is all that’s revealed.
She puts her brain to the task:
to work against a past
forbear
to understand, dismantle.
Reported.

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#1034 Jul 21, 2013
Juan del Cuatro wrote:
"ISOLATO."
Ornament as disguise
I snowed for years.
You swallowed hope, the crooked-fingered star—
The light never went out of my belly—
You snowed for years.
Sails, bunched in the harbor, blooming and contracting
like a slovenly heart,
all seventeen in an unruly mass, some
trying to pull away—
You wouldn’t feel your loss—
You made it art, the beautiful object, tears, waste
and the diamond in it, you said
he left me, he left me, like geese on the fly
hands fat with ether—
saw through your grief the boats on the lake and said
the sails are white knives crossing over the water,
they slice and re-slice the sky.
Clicking too shut jeweled Jewelry Box
with your How Sequinned, How Pre-Raphaelite
boats so much brighter on the water
than knives you imagined, white knives you imagined, not
lamp, sun, on the white of the sail
men unmooring their aluminum music
how bright quick sharp sun came they came
fast diamonds running on the blue-dark lake—
I snowed for years
in your spine there are boats—
I swallowed hope
a sail, to be lifted—
I sold it for a crown
to rush brightly in music—
I sold it for a barge
on the hand of one sailor—
Isolato with a crown
at the helm: Heart’s Desire—
Isolato with a barge
the clay of you dumb at the rail at the prow,
foraging for ornamental forms—
Reported.

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#1036 Jul 21, 2013
Juan del Cuatro wrote:
H
O how we hanky panky harum
scarum in our happy home, dancing hootchy
kootchy.
Sure, it makes for hugger mugger
but we give a hoot for happenstance.
The yard is full o' hound and hares; the door
adorned by hammer and sickle; in the closets, hand-
me-downs.
If Hammurabi and his Queen come
by, we won't be hoity-toity, we'll
offer haggis or humble pie.
Our bed floats on hocus-pocus (our corpore
wholly habeas) and the kitchen hums
a hymn, Hail to Higgledy-Piggledly.
If the world can't call our hurly burly hunky
dory, let it hara-kiri if it dares.
Reported.

Level 6

Since: Jan 12

Location hidden

#1039 Jul 22, 2013
perverse
degenerate

“Clinton or Trump?”

Since: Jun 08

...i hope they both lose....

#1041 Jul 22, 2013
...roses are red....
...violets are purple....
....reebie is sweeter.....
.....than maple syrple......

Laura Beth

Since: Aug 09

Location hidden

#1042 Jul 22, 2013
Old Sam wrote:
...roses are red....
...violets are purple....
....reebie is sweeter.....
.....than maple syrple......
Cute Old Sam!

The drain is lame
We'd like him to reframe

From poetic lures
Insane , no doubt , no cures

From a twisted Old Man
Home ,alone, fisting

Creepy and disgusting

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#1045 Jul 23, 2013
...poof!...
Miami Nice

Miami Beach, FL

#1046 Jul 23, 2013
QuiteCrazy wrote:
perverse
degenerate
Don't be so hard on yourself.

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#1049 Jul 24, 2013
Kathlene wrote:
<quoted text>
Quite literally..there goes the neighborhood.
...your welcome ozzie, your concern is quite touching...

“It's a secret”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

Or maybe I just forgot!!

#1050 Jul 24, 2013
Kathlene wrote:
<quoted text>
Quite literally..there goes the neighborhood.
In your case..the neighborhood all lives in one house...

sup ozzie???

Level 6

Since: Jan 12

Location hidden

#1051 Jul 24, 2013
Miami Nice wrote:
<quoted text>
Don't be so hard on yourself.
Whatever Dave

“It's a secret”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

Or maybe I just forgot!!

#1069 Jul 29, 2013
Go to bed dude?!

Really!?

such a douche?

“It's a secret”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

Or maybe I just forgot!!

#1086 Jul 31, 2013
You know ozzie...

You're a lunatic...

plain out crazy lunatic..

“It's a secret”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

Or maybe I just forgot!!

#1088 Jul 31, 2013
Modern Iconoclast wrote:
<quoted text>
“The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.”
let others decide, after all YOU'RE the one who is following me around endlessly....
Wise men speak because they have something to say; fools because they have to say something.”
&#8213; Plato
but loon...you're on every thread..

get a grip pie?!?

“It's a secret”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

Or maybe I just forgot!!

#1089 Jul 31, 2013
oh...and Pie??

here's a saying for you

you are too conceited to detect or hate your sin....

a Psalm

“It's a secret”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

Or maybe I just forgot!!

#1090 Jul 31, 2013
Modern Iconoclast wrote:
<quoted text>
“The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.”
let others decide, after all YOU'RE the one who is following me around endlessly....
Wise men speak because they have something to say; fools because they have to say something.”
&#8213; Plato
I already told...I'm here to forewarn the ladies..if you get to them..it won't be because I didn't warn them..it will be their own stupidity for not listening...good night ozzie!!

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