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Sharon Stewart Oct 2011
I hear you on the radio,
driving to work.
I swear, I almost get sick in the car
at the rush of memory
sometimes.
I remember firelight flickering
across your face,
a dark corner of a bar you wanted
to get away to
after you played a show,
when everyone wanted a piece
of beautiful you
except me, blushing.

Passion Pit was blaring overhead.
I told you about my family,
we're beekeepers from Ohio.
You watched me as
friends of friends approached me,
flirted, I was sultry.
You asked me
if I was warmed by the beers.
Made eyes
like you wanted
to get the hell out of there.

A customer from work, some
rich investor shmuck,
texts me today.
"What are you wearing?"
I'll tell you.
How many ways can I say "remorse"
before it sounds ****?
It does nothing for me anymore.

But no jokes come to mind,
no evasive, coy replies.
Just a flashing cursor on my
telephone
as I remember summer *******
and someone I left behind.

Make outs in a photobooth
that lasted all night
as they swept the floor to
close up shop.
Only our shoes peeked out
under the curtain
threatening to blow our cover.
You wouldn't be thinking about
our cover.
You'd be thinking about what
I was wearing.

You remember
the color of my tights.
You've told me.
The way my sweater fell off my shoulders.
Saltwater-sealed
sandcastle collarbones.
The more you were obsessed
with me,
the more I didn't need you.

You placed my
hand over your heart
that night in the photobooth,
so I could feel the butterflies
surging through your chest.
They ruptured in rhythm
with each flashbulb
of light
at the magic, calculated touch
of a girl who had learned
to trust no one.

I didn't want any
attachments.
Doesn't everyone always leave?
No, recording in Richmond,
touring across the country,
passing through Brooklyn,
sleeping on a friend's
floor in Denver,
You still asked me what I was
wearing.

A sly grin watching you, breathy and
raw, finish yourself in front
of the camera
late nights when you were away,
listening to you beg for me.
Just the way you'd say my name
And all the words when
we wouldn't speak.
You brought me back honey
from Honduras.
Told me about beekeepers there
and scuba shops on little islands.

I was afraid to start my life
again with someone.
Too young to plan to
run away with you.
The unspeakable distance
I never told you:
I was sleeping with a man I had
loved once
the week before I met you.
He had stopped loving me
long before.

I left you before you could leave me.

It was some cheap hotel off I-75.
A Korean movie with subtitles
was playing in the dark
and we were slushing wine
and sliding bodies
Your sweat was like nectar
and you gasped as you entered me.

I didn't know when I met you
there was nothing left
of me to offer.
Isn't timing half the battle in life?
I never explained it.
Couldn't bring myself
to drive your nice car like you wanted
while you were away.
Drink your honey in my tea
without grimacing at
the bitter taste of grief to it.

I got tired acting confident.
I got bored telling you what I was wearing.
I got angry that you had never been hurt
by someone
not wearing anything.
You were
empty
and easy and
looking for something I couldn't give.

You brought me with you.
I don't know how,
VIP passes and interviews,
always on the road.
We stopped talking,
but you reinvented me
so many times over
different in your mind.

Maybe it was my aire
of not needing you like
the other girls.
Not remarking on
the contour of your jawline,
Your firm muscles,
clenching
and pulsing for me, leaving you
crawling, still
now,
remembering
what I was wearing.
Connor Reid May 2014
pencil
slithering      along paper
projecting a negative
spilling with meaning
enduring
the human condition
coiled abstracted
killing
the beekeepers  daughter
dimming
with every other mistake
just another
scrumpled piece of paper
census taker
wet
with excitement
cabinets, pills, waste
a false flag
fundamental
our angels of materialism
cue commercials
peasants whim
never finding
the key to expression
mark john junor May 2014
i met a man upon the road
who carried his mind in a thicket of thorns
bluejays nesting in his thoughts had built it
one thorny troubled thought at a time
untill he staggered as he walked from the weight
of this contraption of the mind
like a drunkard in the backstreets of seaside town
he would sit by the small cafe or coffee house
and sing for young lovers such songs as ballads of old
or ones from folk singers and childhoods fancy
bright songs of good cheer

at the end of the long summer day
as the cafe and coffee shop would shutter their doors
he would gather his coin
and bid the day fare thee well
would climb slowly the flower strewn hill
sit under the great oak tree
and prune his thicket of a mind
with pinking shears and a hacksaw
with a farmer's plow and the beekeepers glove

a thousand fold bluebirds moving as one
with a terrible sound of wings upon the air
a soft beating of wings like a hearts dry thunder
each carrying a twig to add to his thorny thicket
which was now larger than the man himself
he would wrestle with it all the long night
till sleep overtook him there under the great oak tree

so he lingered here by the sea for years
at the whims of romance by lovers in the coffee house by daylight
and the light of the moon that lead him to dance
in a maiden hayfield at night
he would sing ballads to the star light
and to the wisps of clouds flying the night sky

they buried him with his thicket of thorns
at the top of the hill
below the stars that weep even now
he asked me why once
why none helped him be free of his thicket of thorns
why not one took pity and took his hand to at least comfort
and i told him that the world had
in bluebirds that kept him company
in coffee houses that loved his songs
in me that came to know him at long last
not as a man with a thicket of thorns
but as an empire of bluebirds playing in the skies
just at dawns first light
Elliott G May 2021
Sickness, death, disease,
rats, bugs, ***** fleas;
Royal knights at ease,
not trying to appease
the masses anymore
as bodies amass on the floor.

Stomping down the corridor,
black-gowned conquistador
in court known as le docteur.
Majestically pointed beak,
leather satchel, utensils squeak
as one two three and four
the man takes to the floor-
And Waltz!

Clack the Castle door.
The wicker-faced figure
grows taller, grows bigger,
and one goes to figure
who first pulls the trigger
And Clasp!
Hands come together as one
step by step, step on the gown
almost trip and fall down,
white as silk and black as dawn;
A smirk met with a frown.

Endless days, deadly gaze
from beyond the red-glass eyes:
A mosaic from the skies
as God's son met his demise,
idolized by commonfolk,
glass sculptures embedded into walls.

The ******* of angels,
interlacing strangers;
masked visage from nature
in the form of bustling bees
busy beguiling Byzantine baronesses,
backstabbing brides, burning bioessence,
*******, burdens, nature's reconnaissance.
Tiny creatures nestled into wooden crates,
by the hands of humans' race;
the beekeepers their only living grace.

The two figures intertwined
Ying-yang dancing under starlight
Snow-white and the seven plagues
dressed in crystal, black parade.

The court jester coughs and gargles,
the monarchs paint the floors with blood,
as the silk road lifts embargoes;
a thousand-year old flood
of plague-infested spices,
time to roll the dices,
is it rats or mices,
who really cares,
everyone's already dead.
Johnny Noiπ Feb 2019
False love and smiling smiles and smiling,
the orphans shouted the album while shouting
on the album, so that the song was shaken
by the tragic pain of that day at the same time,
the pain of the pain, the eye of sight, the cool
voice, L.A. simple, the tribal entertainment
girl came up out of the ground, watching the magic
of today's real magic magic: A beautiful river's
blood could not be seen suddenly due to injury
to the finale. The infinite war of your brightest
consolidated soul keeps the frustration of building
and not hearing;                                                    He saved the little girl's life that the red land touches the ground,                                       the holy shrines
                                                                ­                                           of Banana
utensils went into the fog to search for the race.
Because they thought that they were beekeepers,
bees, bees, bees                                  Expectations of the war broke their evil
as a mob and heir
that he gradually eliminated this anxiety his soul,
he prepared himself;             Once vacillated for writing, the color of the tree with color, the secret of the secret of a friend's silence,
the jimmy from the height of the earth,
the little girl is crying Antibomb,                  and she falls down the roadside,
which faces are ready Fear of boredom
means that when we beat any animal,
by breaking, by separating, by stopping with it,      by separation, everything lost from our son's dream,
everything was lost madman's feet for a lot of hatred.
When the mind kills one's mind,
the mind is at one end of the sugar and becomes silent,
which belongs to the Kaiser.
Your mind is always crying
with a superficial face that everyone
can start a good song, be happy,
can see three eyes can stop, repent,
how to listen, think, select,                              choose,
moral, select, mirror, snake,                            instant store,
ring, aware of the explosion,                           torture
is treated in which there is a floating
hummer.                                                         ­  The strong voice of the Turban
                                                                ­   on the name of the Turban is sharp,
it is futile, unfortunately,                                        the brightness of the lungs,
the skin of Ahh, the stretched skin,
is surrounded by a sorcerer in the earth's
blessing who we hope full. Filling
the animals was a great drops of sea
water, using the number of months
of hard sign of the cross with the horrors,
after its departure, the crystal closed
and suddenly it worried parents of Fike,
the crowd heard the ears of the ears
kept, take the pain of the colon quickly
with it, the age of a man who could
tell him that the presence of condoms
is the correct supply in a better position,
interpreters, think any time please
whole forgiveness,                                                     ­             not only repaired
ummmmmm injection of incorrect
repairs And The steps of the flight
on the chair, the noise of the *****
party is about to die,                                                             ­    the party come back to work, "sea stories,                                                 background silence,
the impact of the group
is hot, and with a strategy               The traffic front, which fells, the villains,
the work of cleaning, the view of the piece is free from exhaustion
and relief, so it is based on the magnificence illuminated by the kirpan,
it is known that the finger pickup is the worst reaction by hate, the stars taking lunatics are those who have their own daughters,
deaths are sealed with
the opinion that hot music is far away,
which gave birth to an early beef,  
with a brown tone time,                                             some more unscrupulous
dismissals after the rules of cold motives,
ymmorfothoun powerful fr., there is no escape
from hat-red and careless debate, which Milk
and Silk has been withdrawn for consumption,
releases the respiratory area of ​​relief,
which reduces the variety of behaviors,
astonishing or abusive article.                                                   This increases.
Demand; Green substance is less spectacular,
which makes the brain air seat silent,
which can spoil the silence of the madman.
The original face of the poet is the old face
of Lewis,                                                           ­                      they are worried.
Private Sonnets Nov 2019
It was the place where I'd step from the train
and the sea air bouyed and supported me.
It felt just right. No sense of human drain
and exploitation. There I could just be.

Then I thought about it: About the men
so so beautiful and sparkling who chose
other girls. About the sweet fishermen,
surfers, beekeepers, gardeners, those

cool cafe workers, the greenie coop
community, musos, artists, weavers,
woodworkers and keepers of chicken coops.
Reality checks sometimes find dreamers.

Of all those lovely people I admired
not one reached out to teach me anything.
Johnny Noiπ Feb 2019
That the occurrence of condoms is the right tradition
in a better position, interprets, thinks preferably
gracious forgiveness not only repairs injection
ummmmmm... from erroneous repairs and steps
in flight on the chair, the sound of ***** party will die,
returning to work,                 "Water stories", the collective impact of silence
in the background hot and a strategy the front,
as well as, the bath, the cleaning work, is free from exhaustion
and relief the view of the play ... couple of gripping fingers
is the worst reaction hatred,    the stars get their crazy with snakes have their own daughters, death sealed the notion that the hot music is turned off, which gave birth to early beef with a brown tone, a little more ruthless layoffs following the rules of cool patterns,     There is no escape from hated and deliberate debate milk
and silk drawn for consumption, facilitating the relief of the airways,
which reduces different behaviors, surprising or emerging in articles
xer. The demand: Green matter is less spectacular, making the brain
air quiet, which can destroy the crazy silence. The original of Poland
is Lewis's old face. They're worried. Orphan shame album while she screamed the album so that the song is undermined by the current tragic pain while the pain is eye eye, the cold voice, L A simple tribal entertainment girl came out of the ground and saw magic in the real magic
magic day: can not be considered the blood of a beautiful river because of sudden failure of the final. Infinity was in the strongest united soul holding the frustration of building and not listening. Angered the life of the little girl so red the country to touch the ground, the sacred shrines of the banana equipment went to the emergence of the event. Because they thought they were beekeepers, bees, bees, bees             Hopes of evil as a mob and heir who has eliminated the soul's anxiety that he has prepared; Just flatter to write, the tree color with color, the secret silence of a friend,
a girl from the edge of the earth, Antibomb girl screams and falls
on the road, people are prepared for Fear; Grief means that when you meet
an animal, break , share, stop, separation lost all the dream of our son,
all gone crows too. When the mind kills itself,
the mind is one of the sugars that becomes silent, belonging to Kashi. Your mind is always a superficial man
who can all start a good song, happy, they can see three eyes,
to stop, to regret choosing, choosing, morally, choosing,                  choosing,
ringing, exploding consciousness, treating torture,
where there is an excess lobster.
                                                                ­                    The strong voice Purban
for the thorough name is steep,                                                   it is pointless,
unfortunately the ease of the lung,
the skin Ahh, the outstretched
skin surrounded by a magician
in blessing the earth and crowded.         Filling the animals using a large sea water drop                    of months of cross signals with horrors, after leaving, closed
the crystal and suddenly parents figs,
the listener hugged his ears in the ears,
quickly taking the pain colon,
an age in a man who can tell him
that the presence of condoms
is the right tradition in a better position,
interpreters, you can consider whole
forgiveness, not only repair ummmmmm
injection or improper repair
And step in flight on the chair, the sound
of ***** party comes to space,
to party return work "stories, the sea,
the group's blow silence in the background
is warm and with a strategy that falls
the bath, the cleaning work the view of the path
is free from exhaustion and relief,                                                   so is based
on greatness that is known that the height
of the fingers is the worst reaction of hatred,
stars that take illegal are those
who have their own daughters,
deaths in the fragismeni in the belief that music is hot away,
what gift at the beginning of beef with a brown hue,
a little more ruthless layoffs
according to the rules of cool patterns,                      ymorphothoun strong fr.
from hate speech and deliberate discussion,                         such as milk
and silk drawn for consumption, releasing relief routes, reducing various behaviors, surprising or offensive articles. This is growing. demand;
Green matter is less spectacular, making the brain's air quiet, which
can destroy the crazy silence. The original face of the poet is
Johnny Noiπ Nov 2018
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