Kitten's Litter

and...

you're gettin on a roll with those images, aren't ya? that's some really awesome stuff... I like it when you snap crackle pop like this... I feel the syllables resonating within which turns into inspiration... thanks!

 

Past sunburned roofs,
up crumbling stairs,
and into the gaping mouth, the breeze
exhaled scent of jasmine,

as languid angel brushed
slumber dust from eyelids,
awakened with a tender sigh.

The aging daylight cast
bronze scrolls across the tiles,
tattooed forehead and flushed cheeks.
Early candles hushed
shared rumors
with cobweb curtains.

A gaunt, mulatto boy,
fiddled with a bamboo flute,
causing lulling ripples.

Farideh, arched her back
in a feline stretch,
lounged on the floral bed.

Dressed in a coral chemise,
with kohl around murky eyes.
Her gilded plaits cascaded,
below her shoulder blades.

Henna stained fingertips
danced on silk,
as she inhaled melody and
the faintly familiar
jasmine scent.

Trembling, she stood up,
swam out onto the terrace
to watch the scarlet sun bow
and tangle with the land.

While on the temples,
beads huddled, raced to the jaw.
Farideh wished to gather clouds,
and squeeze out rain drops.

She squinted at the blank skyline,
and winced,
no dust trails from hoofs,
no ivory shapes in cloaks
just this vague aroma
with the breeze
fanning her parted lips
and parching moist eyes.

 

This was my favorite part of this one... great stanza! I don't know exactly who your writing about though, so couldn't vibe this one out too well; although I do get an ancient mesopotamian atmosphere off this, which is cool

and fifty cool points to you for that henna image, I've been meaning to use it in something for a while now!

 

Seraphic, wow I am impressed. Very sweet work. Peace, Vivian

 

Our mother spilled gasoline,
the ocean caught on fire,
toes lost grip,
slipped,
and you fell down,
but the mutt fished you out
along with runny mermaids.

Slightly blistered, but still wheezing,
we welcomed you with painted smiles.

Then we hugged, but you coughed us out.

 

solid piece, I love the twists through the lines, the almost odd imagery coming out, placed so perfectly. Sorry that I can't offer any suggestions, everything here works for me! Great ending by the way, epitomizing the conflict that I perceived!

my favorite lines, so cool

 

With your molar cufflinks,
suede suit and papier-mâché hair,
dashing, dashing cavalier.

Shimmy to my porch,
nip me on the nose,
hide that reptilian tongue.

But you may keep my doormat.

 

Awesome intro, and more quirkiness... I like! Again, fantastically compact imagery surrounds the movement, giving great character to your... uh... characters

Love the ending line as well, it stands out nicely and feels so like something one particular ex of mine woulda said when I brought her home and walked her to the door (man, she was a long time ago)!

 

I will pry your mouth with a crowbar,
pour a gallon of milk down your throat,
you're not lactose introlerant, are you?

I will smother you in bed,
stuff smog down your throat,
you're not a chain smoker, are you?

I will chew on you, inflate the bubble,
pierce you while bloated,
scrape you up from the bottom my throat.

 

Feeling a little ornery here?

The images work well, but I'm not as crazy about the "are you" at the end of the first and second stanza, perhaps you could make it a little more direct? It'd make it a little more masochistic but imo the aggresive effect would play in the poems favor... just an idea, though!

Overall, those first two stanza's were the strongest for me, lovely stuff! Keep em comin!

 

Not ornery just quirky!

 

I’m so incomplete, like the marble chip,
chipped, chipped...

Why you’re always a no-show,
I don’t know.

But gotta love these brittle hours,
blurry eyes and peppered mouth.

I’m always laughing when I’m down,
yeah, always laughing ‘cause its funny
from where I lay.

And I’m all eager and prowling jungles
for a potion or a spare spell.

For once, step into my shadow boy,
dip me backwards or pull me under the swell.

 

So if tomorrow
my house went up in smoke,
I wouldn’t care, much.

I’ve grown detached
from my charmed infancy.

And if tomorrow
old friends, now foreign elements,
walked through the door.
I wouldn’t care, much.

I have accepted anarchy as comfort.

Even if tomorrow,
I would defect the soil,
a mother that has cradled woes,
renounce once embedded codes.

It wouldn’t matter, much.

I’ve grown accustomed to reeling
in this vortex.

 

... left to think...

 

I am muck and vapor,
wearing a respirator,
eyes bruise quickly lately,
and coal has clogged the throat.

I am a wilted banner on the electric wires.

The brimming chalice floods my logic,
why must I dig my grave for dollars,
why bury honor in the name of safety,
why walk the beaten path of others
towards irrelevant success.

So throw me out into the sea,
and let my vessel battle tides.
If I should perish, let it be,
but I’ll go down with my pride.

 

You’re my accidental baby,
dressed in colored chalk,
abandoned by stray dogs,
and picked up from the sidewalk,

I tugged your hitchhiker thumb,
and you followed the honey sunset.

Jumped into my puddle eyes,
you splattered linens
and beamed all over the walls.

Yet I forgave you all the same.

 

-Make up your Mind- has a great start, it really hooks in and sets the tone. You don't disappoint as the rest unfolds, either! Great lines throughout this entire piece, with very strong emotions delivered in blunt style. Great job!

-Anti-Modernism- struck a chord with me as well... it has a bit of a lyrical feel to it that works nicely, and the same great images you use to personify so effectively. Another good one from ya, thx for sharing!

 

Latent night with a pocket
full of celestial kites,
in the city with contraceptive eyes.

Tire marks stretch on the pavement mirror,
tomorrow fault lines will form here.

Husky voice rains,
licking window panes.
Clouds shot down,
land into an open mouth and hands.

Street lamps resonate,
they communicate with the lost.
Winds pulsate with space,
beyond the walls and above the heights.

Caught in between the folds,
roving against the commuter grain,
summoned by distant lights,
steered by the weaving lanes.

Winding down hours,
walked through a thousand dawns.

Wrinkled forehead reflects threadbare paths,
the ones that ended
in endless circles of a city breath.

 

You stared at me, half bemused
half in envy drawn from tattered experience.

Well shake that ash off your head.

I have five balloons,
pear shaped, rubber happiness,
waiting to bounce off my head
and rub cheeks with the ceiling.

My laughter rings, floats up,
and bursts in the loud light.
It’s contagious.
Fills in the hollows of your lungs
and here you are now
laughing with me.

We whopped each other
with pinks, blues and greens
cheap bubbles, waiting to explode
and send us rolling backwards,
roaring with amplified laughter.

You stood staring at me and smiling,
full of bittersweet reprimand.

 

*drops in to peruse the well written words strung like pearls before her*
Thanks Kitten, as always, this was time very well spent