Skinny's thread

Hmmm, so much seriousness here, skinny. Let sunshine rule an hour. I like your efforts at imagery. Just push to be more spare. And skinny, of course. Write on!

 

I absolutely love this. What an opening stanza! Just generally speaking, the bombardment of your poetry's imagery is so wonderful to behold. I don't know how you come up with all the correllations that you do. Amazing.

 

No amount of arousal

dreamt open eyed
absorbed from ceiling and fingertips
can make this up.

No amount of instruments,
of cellos and perspex toys,
of wine

can make this fleeting pleasure
more than a ghostly tampering.

More terrifying here
awake and tense,
in confusion

than dormant
in anticipation of your form.

 

Ooo really chilling new one skinny.

-No amount of arousal

dreamt open eyed
absorbed from ceiling and fingertips
can make this up.-

Holy smokey, I'm there right now. It made me fidget...

-ore terrifying here
awake and tense,
in confusion

than dormant
in anticipation of your form.-

This further made me uneasy...too close but still lovely in its eerie proximity to how I feel. Loved the way this poem steered itself.

 

I agree with Kittenx here... that one has got a great creepy vibe. I love the tone you present this with; fantastic way to make this work as well as it does.

 

My hangnails reek of devastation
where you lingered, tip to tip,
where I traced each rib, flared, laid bare.
I'm biting my imprint now.

You trickled fortune through pursed lips
and chuntered on my shoulder blades
of people past. We're cautious.

Can't help but see phantoms
in clusters of moles
and translucent skin.

 

You are my playwright and I subscribe
but cannot shake the fog of loners
draped around my shoulders.
The travelling salesman has my heart
living from suitcases
pulling tricks from this and that and
hope the scores will settle down and
one-day fly ambition's nest.
The shadow's teeth are sunk
in this dramatic flesh and
my fangs, too, are thick with the tang of choice.
Yet mistakes hover
under tables
hide in nicks where clothing catches
lurk in spaces of preoccupation.

I condemn my will, lock it away.
Wish my hips ached with foreign weight,
that all that moisture dripped, and pooled and was concealed
in your handiwork.

Then roaming sideways
would be simple.
Laugh at others' melancholy.
Drive and tease and bare incisors

in all innocence.

 

hi there
i love this
play on life and yourself........

how long we hold out,then jump right in to
life......
love n peace from saff

 

Stop revelling in my garbage,
and I'll bring you in and feed you up
once in a while.

We'll stoke up a roaring fire,
and I'll let you trip me up
with your hungry dancing.

The rough underbelly of nine tongues will make you purr.

One lick for each life, tomcat.

Then I'll let you out the back to prowl the neighbourhood
and soil the neighbours' windowboxes,

if you're playful,

or, you can slip your rain soaked form
into my lap.

 

I swear
I saw
a dog in a suit
lounging in the gutter.

A mangy dog,
a scrawny, urchin dog,
in a suit covered in stampmarks
smoking.

Propped against the kerb by a sharp elbow.

I swear
it winked
at me

and stole something
from my breast pocket
three metres away,

without moving.

 

Bury your chin
in the crook of my back
and cling.

We'll feast on rats

if we wake up.

If not, we'll share the strands
of sordid dream we created
before we crashed.

I apologise for the siren song,

it caught me unawares aswell.

 

She is a tawdry dame,
sat low and bulging in the water
all painted up. Your pride was once
tied to the mast
and carried outwards by the wind
to advertise and tell the world you're here.

You were a graceful team.
She lugged your cargo
shore to shore
and you gave her wind in her sails
and salt in her bilges.
Her flanks were sometimes overwhelmed
by the creeping, shouting swarm of battle.
But you had resourceful blades
that cut through, deflected, turned the tide.

Her aching hold is still packed
with teachests stuffed
with your shared memories.
You lash new treasures to the deck
in bad weather. But they're easily lost, and unmissed.

Can I come aboard?
Intrude upon your final voyage,
a matter of metres up and down the harbour wall,

help you say goodbye,
unfurl your freedom one last time,
crack her keel and pull the plug

as we walk the plank together.

 

Hawker and Pirate, aye, she be tops, matey!

 

Looks like I missed some of your latest! -Chaste- was deliciously naughty... I loved the dark guilty vibe it gave off... and what wonderful imagery. Awesome work!

I also loved -Islands- although I think you could change a couple of words at the end of your stanzas to give a little more impact...

thanks for sharing em! always love your stuff!

 

That penumbra's a conundrum.

Chameleon in the changing light.
Open and shut.
Hues of mood.

It is amber.
Post-coital calm trapped behind the looking glass.

It is walnut dash
in decadent automobiles,
when our ignition makes you purr.

It is cavernous and coal
many years wise,
when the weekday sun is highest.

 

We bore the moon
with our weary games and sentiments
of self-indulgence. Yet she remains
my watchdog, matron, landlady,
stealing snapshots for her curious collection
every time I die. I shake my fist at her
and my head at you, but you both keep coming
sure as night, and rattle my larynx.
You both cast shadows and cause tidal waves.

 

I've fallen down the crack
between two unkempt mattresses,
an orgasmic chasm filled with derring-do
and really oughtn't.
If I seem calm and then erratic
blame my inner child, fanatic
who drills holes in skulls with spiteful eyes
and doesn't sleep much.

I've been striking
a crucifixion pose since lunchtime
when you pierced my side and left my
belly beating like a hooked fish.
Taut temptation, you wear your muscles
like bandages, while I lie back and hope
I'm not too septic.

And now my eyeballs ache,
where you undressed them,
laid them out under your surgeons lamp
and aborted my mechanics. I'm a bundle
caked in others' bars of soap. You've greased my tail
chalked up my perimeter.
Time I removed my gnawed carcass from the scene.

 

Ooo I've missed this. This made me giggle [unkempt mattresses,
an orgasmic chasm]

Whilst this part made me grin...
[If I seem calm and then erratic
blame my inner child, fanatic
who drills holes in skulls with spiteful eyes
and doesn't sleep much.]

The ole, quirky metaphorical queen is back. Lovely stuff skins

 

thanks Kit

 

Theatre was awesome, and I agree with the kitten, that section in particular was my favorite as well... thanx for sharing em!