Posts tagged ‘sex’

September 3, 2014

Day One: Campus Type

Cigarette ashes hang like eyelashes

of campus distractions,

from broken hand sinewy seams

this be the death of me-

 

…  and some;

carless,

embarrassed,

 

No Feelings: numb.

 

American Literature and computer generated poetry; as art- good start to the semester, the sun is out in all its glory.

 

Covered in leather and bruises, she moves, tattooed, wounds fester, pimple-faced and searching for pleasure and adventure, no more mommy and daddy leisure.

 

It’s true.

 

Beautiful green lost confused, children adults on the move; me too,

How about you?

 

Choose.

 

Brilliant fulfillment,

United States we live in, lucid livid.

 

Self –surgery

type urgency.

 

Bearing my frown like a leaky raincoat in the center of this rainstorm,

maintaining a productive stance on consuming all there is to absorb.

 

Advice: Mornings are easier when you don’t drink every night,

but for what I’ve just seen I just might.

 

Educate me on this system.

Please, teach me now. 

July 28, 2014

peaceful reside

Darkened room
beyond a standing open door.
Fan blows low,
violins cry; moaning- in the air.

Cat bounds, jumps,
across a dusted floor.

This motionless single-bedroom apartment, still, as mind dances the Tango.

Loved ones, phone.

She moves,
rolling in the lamplight
covered in white-cloud blankets
warm in her spot.

The bed holds like a trusted hand.

Lie processing,
words,
empty,
quiet,
awake alone,

shadows paint the walls and ceiling.

Torso imprints a time, right there.

Peaceful reside,
past moments in my mind.

-Goodnight.

July 23, 2014

At the beach (Cedar South)

At the beach,

this burnt sand desert;
tan,
beyond feet,
hot!
dig underneath.

Swimming lake water to avoid the heat,
people lazing on towels,
hiding beer cans
attempt save discrete.

Plants sharp as knives while walking with bare-feet.

At the beach
At the beach

Sex parts covered by diaphanous cloth,
where we sit with wandering thought lost.

Sunscreen smells,
lax notion,
rubbing lotions,
discussion minced, quiet commotion-

ride, bipedal, or car from the city to the streets to meet,

at the beach
at the beach.

July 9, 2014

Tattoo II

Dark outlines
on pretty flesh;
a meaningful, forever, sentiment- lined sketch.

For life, for death,
a canvass to test,
bold bright colors; judgment: pretense.

Now art, now unique, now taut puffed; hurt when pressed.

Self-inflicted wounds to heal,
paying for this pain,
stories etched on the surface;
memories remain.

Now, what do yours mean? …

Everyone is jumping off of that bridge,
So I packed a parachute and lit a smoke- see?

July 8, 2014

Triple Double

we used to go to The Triple Rock on Tuesdays- every Tuesday;

they had 2-4-1’s:
two drinks for the price of one- natürlich,

we would stay late, dancing and sweating, and trying to get laid…

it was a spectacular spectacle, an idea with appeal; drink one-self half-silly,
amongst those of a similar age demographic,
-get lucky,
then attempt to maneuver treacherous city streets
on bike, in cars or cabs,
home.

the whole thing ended rather abruptly when a few kids couldn’t handle their liquor, words, and fists.

a fight broke out into the street,
under cigarette smoke, dim streetlamps, smell of stale beer in the air,
and the big kibosh was put on the entire coveted evening, the whole event was OVER.

the deal had turned into somewhat of a deal-breaker, and this was way before the wounds of those street-fighting kids  had healed;

egos and all.

so, what two things did we learn here?
if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is, and nothing lasts forever.

July 8, 2014

Commuting on Como

Up,
Pedaling through
Como Avenue.

Alongside shared-living apartments
Neon-signs cluttered storefronts.

Following is
the
summer sun,
heat,
and sweat.

7 years ago I was more acquainted
There was so much to forget.

There was sun and snow,
Heartbreak and elation,
Sex and lies, good times;
Things called by other names, situations.

Past trees which grew
Broken glass from bottles drunks threw
Stand lampposts which haven’t moved
These quiet streets, home for rocks, sand, and dust- below shoes.

Maneuvering, wondering if the old neighbors were still alive.

Winter stuck in a basement
Bright light outside
Warm only within
-Hiding eyes behind dingy broken blinds.

Father stopped in around Christmastime
I was with a she who left like the wind.

Found in moments betting on the weather.

Two doves,
A cat,
Empty bottles,
Trash amassed; pieces of me mixed between.

Now I ride by this old familiar place.

Remembering,
Biking,
Thinking,

How did this town get so small?
How did I get so big?

***
She once said: biking is the best way to learn the city; Minneapolis is the biggest small town around.

May 10, 2014

Point of Life

Life is what you make of it,

so make it full of joy–

 

Otherwise,

 

Fuck it–

What’s the point.

March 10, 2014

(Now) The Land of 10,000,000 Lakes/ Relatively Obscure

(Now) The Land of 10,000,000 Lakes

By Terry Scott Niebeling

 

Relatively Obscure;

But Only Now,

This year

 

(Must’ve been the Weather)

 

Thoughts at present

Winter resentment

 

(Had to’ve been a Tasteless Pleasure)

 

Summertime

And

Rhymed lines

 

Blank verse

And

Mini-skirts

 

Beer on a deck

And

Sunburns that hurt

 

Been stuck-inside-life

And

There’s nothing worse

 

Darkest before the light

And

Patience makes all the worth

 

(Blinded by the light-eyesight)

 

Times in the Midwest

With the new season we’ll wear less for dress:

 

Abandon bundles…

Step through Puddles…

 

Avoid Potholes and Passive Aggressive Mumbles.

 

We still (always) look forward to the warm days ahead,

Sunlight makes it easier to leave the bed.  

March 5, 2014

The Death of Ruby Red

I cut her deep, was a small feat

Her pink shown light orange mingled red flesh

 

I peeled her skin exposed her meat

Her, beautiful orb-cracked, torn, limp, was dead

 

Her innards spray juice-sluiced, hot heat

Her life, close to expire, was in threat

 

This grapefruit I eat

Fact–

I express no regret.

February 10, 2014

Mental Morning (Me Post-Structuralism)

A bunch of facts and a boom

I’m scattered across the floor

Quick! Run-            

Grab the broom:

Me Post-Structuralism

 

***

I lost my shit over breakfast this morning

The weather made me do it

 

Not the hangover

Or Clover

 

Oh, brother

No other lover

 

Apology of Autonomy

Soft as applesauce

 

Sometimes we make choices

Sometimes we get lost…

 

Raised red streaks down pale face shimmering

Of reckoning; today is the coldest day

One of those

‘Til tomorrow

Then we have to change yesterday’s name

 

Cold, sick, and hollow

Deep tracks we’ve followed

 

Cuddle long always

Wallow until warm stays

 

Over coffee, blank verse, and burnt toast

This one goes out to the one I love the most

 

I apologize profusely

To put it truthfully

 

Frigid weather courses through me

Computer screen’s bluey

 

Let’s make a hibernate date

I’ll change around Mid-May

 

Promise_

-Out-

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