I'd want Matt Dennison to write me. Or maybe Kyle Hemmings if I was feeling like a Tokyo monster in platform boots and weeping eye makeup.
Why not turn this into a longer poem and post it to "Stories"--then we could all add a little more love to it.
If I Were A Poem
I'd want Matt Dennison
to write me. Or maybe
Kyle Hemmings. If I was
feeling like a Tokyo
monster in platform
boots, weeping eye makeup.
Done, Darryl.
Hey, it looks pretty good all stanzified like that.
Ringing the Bells
And this is the way they ring
the bells in Bedlam
and this is the bell-lady
who comes each Tuesday morning
to give us a music lesson
and because the attendants make you go
and because we mind by instinct,
like bees caught in the wrong hive,
we are the circle of crazy ladies
who sit in the lounge of the mental house
and smile at the smiling woman
who passes us each a bell,
who points at my hand
that holds my bell, E flat,
and this is the gray dress next to me
who grumbles as if it were special
to be old, to be old,
and this is the small hunched squirrel girl
on the other side of me
who picks at the hairs over her lip,
who picks at the hairs over her lip all day,
and this is how the bells really sound,
as untroubled and clean
as a workable kitchen,
and this is always my bell responding
to my hand that responds to the lady
who points at me, E flat;
and although we are not better for it,
they tell you to go. And you do.
--Anne Sexton
Not a poem I'd be, but one I relate to....
She drips,
slick with heated words and
wet innuendo.
She breathes in roses, salt and darker thoughts,
exhales, her junkies crowd around for a taste.
All piss and swoon, and edgy curves,
her mouth, all promises wrapped in words
that softly break
and saturate.
- Someone who is not Splinker
Someone who isn't Splinker should put that on the main page. :P
Now I'm thinking how Eric might read if he were an Anne Sexton poem. Hmm.