Kitten's Litter

I liked this mucho... Great wordplay (as usual) and I get all kinds of odd mental visions from it.

 

my lewd pet.
now i see,
you're more than
a purist,
a winged elitist.

you're a f*cking con.

i got news for you, dear,
this game is over,
i've resigned.

 

dress up my
velvet crib
in dandelions
i want trumpets
and an aroma
of formaldehyde
choking spring air

kiss my violet lips
with silver dew.

freeze me sincere,
plant a faint smile
on a starched mask.

 

i needed new air and lungs,
i needed new pair of eyes.

come on,
let's swap galaxies,
and share saliva.

 

-resignation- I liked the first stanza most here, the last was a little too blunt and either needed to be more elusive or the lashing needed to be continued, imo...

-last wish- is more the style I like to see from you. lush imagery capturing emotions and lovely hidden depths to be read into. this was my favorite of the three, although.....

your untitled piece has that swapping galaxies bit... which kicks ass. awesome short little piece, I can see that last stanza on a t-shirt already.... lol

 

Public skirts
billow up
in a swift
high breeze.

Exposed,
underneath
we dance in unison.

Caution disabled,
arms and hair entangle.

Umbrellas soar
like rampant
flashy UFOs.

Crowds holler,
some burst,
some hop like frogs,
into bottomless
puddles.

Soggy tabloids
cling to
tree torsos
and glossy
asphalt.

Strange,
barefoot girl
draws
water tails,
as she paces,
vague,
down the acoustic
chaos.

Greets,
and swallows
heaven crumbs.

Strange,
tender girl,
air-borne
she doesn't
resist
the wind.

 

Roll down
boulevard slopes,
across broken bridges,
skip memorial
stairs.

Cosmic force
is the water
of a bronze
city fountain.

A gold fire
swirl
in my iris plaza.

 

I’m waif like.

A little volatile,
in private screenings
even racy.

Occasionally
don a halo,
but more often
I reenact
a smile.

It pays off.

 

I sleep fabulous
in shark skin
and spikes.

I understand
stone cutting
truth
but can not
deal and do
anything
with
your
poor choice.

Lava
down my
ears and throat.

I am affected
and afflicted.

Everything
breaks
down with age,
the natural
wear and tear,
the problem here
is you helping
the process.

We are
all we have.

A neurotic clan
we
chew each other
up.

What am I
to do
with this
damned
curse?

I sleep fabulous,
below the debris
of two
polar worlds.

 

in mosquito love,
we serenade the
corner stars.

logic horror
comes later,
but for now
we can’t breathe
apart.

coated in shine,
violin warmth
of your voice
engulfs,
and
unwraps
the lethargic
heart.

 

Infatuation , Curiousity, Sample and Second Thoughts flowed so nicely into each other. Loved them all. Mann, I do love the way you write~!

 

-tempest- you’ve captured a scene here that at first triggered images of a bjork video (oh so quiet), but your somber tone took over and took me to a different world. Excellent verbal painting you’ve done with this one…



-route- was my second favorite of these new ones… I absolutely love your flow and word choice in those last two stanzas.



-introduction- was absolutely perfect in every way, and seems like it belongs with your last two. –curse- was fantastically depressing, but I didn’t like the second to last stanza, although it fits well as a blunt statement, I just think the poem would rock that much harder with it left out.



-sap- was my favorite. Every syllable shines in the right way. It’s a short little piece that, from my perspective, sums up my take on relationships as a whole right now.

 

-Route- was a little surreal vision.
-Curse- is awful personal hence cryptic(I could give you the background), second to last stanza is my frustration, not quite poetic I know...but that's how it came out.
Thanks for reading me & replying Mum & Fulm-ahh!

 

Lovely, don't you think?
breathe of shadows
drawing out images
poetry laughing at the world
like the soul in turn burns inwards
further

I like it all, I haven't been about in a while, but thought I would acknowledge your work. Well done sister.

Standingdeer

 

don’t try to
tame a martyr.

i’m too psychotic
for raw words.

don’t try to
live vicariously
though my
success and
frequent loss.

don’t speak
of expectation.

i’m too cemented
in my cause.

don’t fret,
and
never mind
maternal instinct.

instead, accept
and celebrate
my choice.

 

March deployed
its saboteurs,
parachuting
fuzz.

Slender hostage,
paced the perimeter
of her asylum,
on a hostile night.

Well, you know phantom,
rude awakenings
inspire
to run
for the sake of
running.

For once to
step out
and let your
impulse
steer
the way.

Flailing arms,
and dizzy eyes,
whatever makes
your heart
spin.

For years
you’ve been
tricked,
convinced,
that you lack
free will.

But peel
off, off with
this wretched
sheathe,
expand yourself,
swell,
and breathe
for once.

 

Your gambit is tried and true

and though it is alarming
how swiftly you undress
my psyche,
and though it is
unwise,
I grant permission
to rouse,
to plague,
and bait me.

Amoeba-like,
I wallow in the
pool of countless
shadows,
remnants of those
others.

A fetching demon,
my clever libertine

have you schemed
my hemorrhage and
certain pitfall,
and how do you
intend to
confiscate
my dignity?

Well make it quick and easy,
and make it pleasant.

 

We swing on moods,
and
huff bags with clouds.

Our lethal urges
come from unusual
triggers.

Marginal pleasure
and
the proximity
of imminent woe.

It’s all in the
expectancy
of our mutual
downfall,
it’s all in the
hazard of our
chemical clatter.

Drive each other
up the wall,
we’re devious
and savvy.

I crave to carve
a slice of your heart,
want to embellish
you in scars,
smother you
with all my spite,
my love.

 

I wouldn’t mind
crawling through
the ditches,
slithering though
barbed wire,
and dancing on mines,
while hauling
death on my back,
with your life
safe
in my front pocket.

It’d be alright,
if not better
to fall among
the bones and ashes,
on a par with
our ancestors and
late arriving rivals.

There’d be no context
to evaluate misdeeds
and all heroic actions.

I wouldn’t mind
surrender,
my pride can handle
a concussion.

 

Nine lives
are not enough
to secure me
a spot
of forever
upon this
desolate mire

for I aspire
to coerce
providence,
and to overshoot
the moon.