Sunday, December 30, 2012

not following the recipe

I wish i had kissed you.
to taste you

when you offered your most defended offerings
of flesh

and self

believe me when i say the word True, because there is nothing else
except colored plastic  _________.
                                      because, as of now, that is the only thing on sale
                  what i mean to say is thank you
but that wouldn't make sense without telling the ones who are reading
the what, where, how and why;

but setting sounds gently beyond what can be reached
in moments lived

in the moment

is like assaulting a kettle
singing precipice

in the only language it can scream
shivering contents

because the heat is on

was flipped on...and we both like to eat with our fingers
                                     and you where the one who could have turned me on

turning thoughts into thoughts

like accountants cooking book
and the flavors would have worked

if cooked properly
but thats my fault for not following the recipe

but thats what i'm good at
I'll Open with That next time. 

Saturday, December 29, 2012

posh sleep wear in other tongues

what if we could fall in love
                      with the word love?

like loving pillow cases

                                 instead of pillows

love spells in poplin tailored euro sham

and its reversible...
for when your low on quarters

and you could have two!
one for the head and one for the chest

and/or knees depending on your preference.
         because its always good to be as comfortable as possible

during hypothetical spoofs of word play
playing 40's

like your twenty two...when your twenty

or playing indian poker...(its the one where you don't know
the card but it on your forehead and everyone is laughing)

Because if we could fall in love with pillow cases instead of pillows
everyone gets laid.

and instead of paying for the cleaners; new ones would be handed out
for free...

like contraception
or like the french do it...only its different in french

and learning all the slang's a bitch

and because the people are different

                     its impossible
to really translate meanings

especially in english, because i hear its really easy to speak
once you get it

but really hard to learn.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

a kind of nativity scene... but with now and then as if in a braid

where did the idols go?
if you could remember...

                   we as sovereign letters of light

             inn, O yeah, there was no room

and yet the words survived...
the words,

passively pyramid      ing


and the snake was Her before you were
coiled legible

                 for the ones with green thumbs

and yet we stutter over what is believable

at least the traffic is slanted
drivers driving to their dens 

awaiting inert coiling 

coiled uncomfortable

naturalizing identity...
like a wolf acting like he cares wether

or not a tie is double breasted

even though it makes me look like i give a damn
i do....
                    but not like this...

because when you wake up with make-up on you feel it
and its on your pillow

until wash day. 
when everything feels clean.  

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Fucking with Sunday

if the pineapple viscosity soured
in a Sun lights gathering

gathering more than aptitude towards
the lines we find ourselves dividing

gathering weight
because we all have to make a buck

dividing itself
as the tide rises in spite of sand...
and the shelter remains

because we have divided it so.

and i'll always love fucking with Sunday
waking up with coffee and a cigarette

then coffee and cigarettes

because i have divided
it so

and the influence of the news fluctuates
Then the words of this

peace procrastinate

piecing together a greater radiation
to mend what is in the plan to mend

this might make sense if we could peace together
instead of piecing together

a mona lisa's smile

a north faced frank

a commercial whispered behind colors
flashing believable