a hundred charcoaled letters later

thinking of your notes,
i dream of you,

sitting next to me
with ink smeared lips,
hands caressing your pen
as if it were my breasts

i think of words, ripe,
falling from your tongue -
plucked and squished
to juice by summer fairies

and i want to preserve their taste
for scentless days

Don’t talk
or think or even breathe
you smile  – just
close your eyes, drink, trace
their patterns while they fall
to rest,

melt with the graphite of your pencil
and let the words
invading you,

splitting your bowels
with a crimson spear,
cracking you open ’til

you can’t be sure if you -
just dive, die, dance or drown

in a HundredCharcoaledFountains,
spilling your life like ink
across the barriers you have built

.


.
Anton Gourman wrote a wonderful poem, based on this one and I can highly recommend the read – you can find it here
.

and…it’s one shot wednesday again…gates open at 5pm EST ..let’s  flood the place with poetry…hope to see you there..

places no one has ever heard of

in warm nights
i drink your words like scotch and
step into you,
hoping to find myself between
your lips and the tip of your tongue

you taste of lemon and brown sugar
and across the bar
waits another day
of another life
with a different reason to breathe

we drink to the words
and bleeding pages
spread across your skin

we drink to what’s left,
to fragile letters on limpid sheets

and we drink to
endless carpets of white blossoms
that may never make it through the rain

your eyes are deep with danger
and full with what no one should see,
touch
or feel

your lips shine wet with ink

i long to kiss you empty and
explode in your mouth,
on your tongue

until we both are bleeding – to gether, to life

on the floor of a bar
no one has ever heard of


…it’s One Shot Wednesday again and i have the pleasure to be your host for tonight’s poetry party…come write a poem and join us..sign up opens at 5 pm EST

>poets

>hunting words to fit a viscous,
fragile mood – fragmented sky and
messy clouds, we’re tastin’

ink, touch my skin – tornado,
cobweb or a twinkling eye, the
artist’s brush, wet oil, alone – we
fly, dark dancer on an empty

stage, crave, make ‘em love us, no
regret, so tear my flesh, press heavy
on my soul and move
inside the turbine of my breath

these verse will win us, tear
our seam and spark; ejaculate
into our heart, splash torrents, lust-
washed cries, we scream the words
that toss and flood our aisles -
whitewater – clingin’, squirmin’ – short

of breath we close this bleeding gap
of unreached stars
to shattered smallprint
amongst rumpled sheets

A special request of all tweeting readers…we are in the running for a Shorty Award over at One Stop Poetry…only some days left to go. So if you tweet, please tweet a vote for us in the #art category…matter of fact, go HERE and vote for…
@OneStopPoetry in #art because…(you must give a reason) we create community in art, we promote youth poetry or whatever you think we do well…

i’m linking up with One Stop Poetry – come and join us, meet some fantastic people over there, dive deep and get breathlessly poetic. Sign up opens today at 5 pm EST

>..and i write brown to stay earthed

>

want me to read it to you?

suddenly i can’t
see the world any more, letters
pile up like a storm surge,
pressing hard

against the walls
of my heart, shouting
for release, colored
black, blue, red, green, pink and i

write brown to stay earthed, watch the ink
drip, flow, emerge, forming streams,
puddles, rows and the birds in
my head start humming, all drunken and

easy feathers, wings against my brain,
long to fly, surf, conquer
vast skies and i open, open
doors, bind letters to balloons

with purple thread and watch
‘em leave, yearning to join
and drift, attaching, hoping, longing
and kissing, loving, i bond,

release, let go while brown ink
keeps flooding
my fingers, desk, heart and touching
the wind, words fall back, bouncing,

tumbling, pulsating and i
net ‘em like insects, pinning them
to white sheets with tears full
of salty deserts cause i know, i know

they carry the scent of rough winds
and blue skies, of thunderstorms and
untamed wildness, of bird’s croaks and
lover’s cries, of hoping & losing like

a hero and dancing like a child
behind a plain & unimpressive
brown-inked veil.

i’m linking up with One Stop Poetry – write a poem, join us and meet some highly talented people over there. Sign up opens today at 5 pm EST

>ice dancing with my muse

>spinning, dancing, gliding,
heading north to touch the pole,
aurora borealis luring, stepping
on the edge.
and how i wanted her, so fallen
into fragments, diffused
in northern lights, encircled in
my snow storm; crystalline and
deeply longing, kissing me with
blood red lips

& what was left of me,

fell to the ground

in syllables

what can you say in 55 words? linking up with g-man