So she got ready in her Sunday best
With a sneaky smile on her face because
No one knew about her panty-less protest
It felt so dirty in a way, it felt so wrong
Sitting in church without even a thong
Like something out of some hip-hop song
A panty-less protest only known to two
A panty-less protest between God and you
Knowing nothing is there between the pew
And your naked bum except for the thin
Material of your skirt as you wonder when
You’ll get caught, if ever at all, and if not then
You’ll be here next week protesting yet again
August 27, 2003
Manchester, NH
Back in May I wrote the first half of this in Line Ideas and never ended up finishing it until now. The funny thing is that as I read this poem I can totally tell where I stopped writing before and where I started writing tonight. It just flows a little differently. This is based on a true story that a friend told me.
Indie Anna
Indie Anna
I thought I came up with
Something original
Something different
A sorta play on words
A sorta something else
Kinda neat in a way
Kinda punny too
Kinda funny how
When I typed the phrase
Into a search engine
On the Internet I got
Hundreds of hits
Of people
Of magazines
Of so many
Different things
Which makes me
Sit back and think
Has every idea
I come up with
Been done before?
Am I an unbeknownst
Regurgitating media whore?
Is everything as taken
And used as Indie Anna?
I’d like to think that
I can come up with a few
Original ideas that are
Solely my own
I’m trying to
Remain positive here
So please humor me
July 1, 2003
Manchester, NH
Last week I thought I had coined this neat phrase, “Indie Anna”. I was all happy about it and put it into Line Ideas. Then tonight, I typed it into Google and got over 350+ responses. It got me thinking, what if everything I’ve come up with on my own is just inadvertently coping something else? That ended up bothering me since I tend to be a very creative person.
Perfect Loaf
Semi-sleeping cat
There lying down
On the couch behind me
Eyes closed paws tucked
Tail under body loafed
Like the perfect loaf
Of bread with a head
Stuck there on top
Like an afterthought
Like the perfect loaf
That she is
That she usually isn’t
But tonight for once
She is
August 27, 2003
Manchester, NH
Zoe (my cat) is not a perfect loaf right now (pretty darn close if it weren’t for her paws being a little too sloppy), but she was last week when I wrote the phrase “prefect loaf” in Line Ideas. I coined this phrase a few years ago when I owned a cat (Tofey) that did a perfect loaf every time he hunkered down.
Blurry Until the Frames
Blurry until the frames
Are reached and fumbled for
Found, and come into play
Lying, staring at the ceiling
Knowing seeing is helping
Thinking wondering what
Interesting things I’ll be doing
During the length of today
February 29, 2004
Manchester, NH
Leaving the Lasting Happy
The beautiful aroma
Continues into the sip
Fills, swirls, down
Leaving the lasting happy
In my mouth
In my memory
It won’t be forgotten soon
February 28, 2004
Manchester, NH
Thinking back to the glass of Abbaye des Rocs Grand Cru, a Belgian Strong Ale, I had last night.
Pumpkin Ale
Pumpkin ale in an
Unassuming bottle
Brown with a pumpkin
Pictured on the label
Don’t forget the cute
Smutty seal who sells
Good stuff and tells
Me to get drinking
Pours clearish golden
Like some kind of Molson
But the aroma tells me
Otherwise that there’s no
Compromise in drawing
Conclusions between the two
As the color in the glass
Kicks everything’s ass
Thin head on an orangey amber
Spicy aroma that does not waver
I tip the glass towards me to taste
And I’m taken to some other place
Riding the river of a tart pumpkin
A happy smile slides across my face
Sip again because it’s really something
Feels like the colors of fall are filling
Are twisting are burning in my mouth
Vibrant colors brought on by spilling
Spices something entices me to have
To want summer to end immediately
And plunge headfirst into autumn
And swaddle myself in the crispness
Of fall of it all and before I knew it
So suddenly
I saw my glass and my bottle
Were both empty
Thanking God I’ve got five more
I crack into another
Tip and pour
And start the ride all over
September 11, 2003
Manchester, NH
It’s not often that beer inspires poetry, but the Pumpkin Ale, by the Smuttynose Brewing Company, is some awesome stuff.
Quotes Speak Volumes
The quotes speak volumes
More so than the words
Found in between them
The images implied
Burning so vividly
In my closed eyes
Screaming so loudly
In my fragile mind
Destroying the peace
Shattering the quiet
I once counted on
I once relied on
Leaving me in pieces
The unassuming punctuation
The volumes spoken
The mess left behind
July 29, 2003
Manchester, NH
The first three lines of this were living in Line Ideas for a couple of weeks. Reading them in conjunction to hearing the Cat Power song “Evolution”, followed by “Girl” by Tori Amos, just made the rest of the poem flow from those three lines. I like the poems like this, in that I never come out and say what’s going on. You just have to assume and infer on your own. It’s just more cerebral that way.
Mere Words
An artist on the keyboard
Eyes shut, worlds flowing
Freely so freely like water
Flowing fast through the fingers
With the light clicky-clack
Of the pads on the attack
Of the words contrasting
In cool black against the white
Of the piercing burning screen
Music raging in the background
Mind racing fast to understand
Making the mind want to scream
With the images that I’ve seen
Torching my mind
Twisting in time
Delving yet again
Wanting to send
This to a friend
Make minds bend
When they see this
When they read this
Hard and fast without stopping
Trying to catch up to the typing
But not succeeding
And not believing
In the things but can’t stop
As they continue the assault
Not worrying about results
Imagery laying everything
To waste
With haste
Love that taste
When mere words
Reshape your reality
October 25, 2003
Manchester, NH
Pure randomness built around a vague topic.
Hearse on Fire
Hearse on fire
Nothing is more dire
Can’t imagine what it’s like
To be the passenger
To have to die again
To suffer two deaths
Unbeknownst to the family
Who wanted him to be buried
He’s at the side of the highway
Slowly getting cremated
Hearse on fire
Life’s gone haywire
The procession’s stopped
The family’s all dropped
Crying on the blacktop
Driver waving like an umpire
Knowing he’s going to get fired
Worse than the darkest satire
This just isn’t right
I won’t be able to sleep tonight
August 26, 2002
Chelsea, MA
Driving home from work (I-93 South), I saw a hearse engulfed in flames on the north-bound side. It’s just one of those things no one should ever have to think about.
Keeping It G
Keeping it G
Or at least
Trying to be
Yet the words
And the subject
Tips decidedly
And deliciously
Towards X
Leaning way over to
Touching on
All things sex
As often we tend to do
Without rhyme
Or any real reason
Living every season
Under the sign
So mysterious
So ambiguous
Yet for some reason
It defines our generation
December 30, 2003
Bay Point, CA
I was watching TV with friends and we paused on Emeril for a few minutes. He was about to tell a story, but then said he needed to keep it G (as in G-rated). I just took that phrase and went with it.
On
Catalyst
The air hangs thick
With unbearable tension
Permeating the situation
Unexpressed feelings
Undeniable wanting
Our full eyes lingering
Dangerously too long
Followed by the quickening
Of our hearts when caught
All explosive situations
Need a catalyst
To detonate
The feelings
To make
The passion
Resonate
A light breathy kiss
On the back of a bare
Unsuspecting neck
Sending shivers down
Her eyes closed
Her mouth open
Sharp breath in
Half in surprise
Half in ecstasy
Tension broken
She spins around
Capturing me
No words spoken
None are needed
Yet still speaking
Unabridged volumes
With our hungering
And longing touch
As we yield to nothing
Absolutely nothing at all
January 31, 2004
Andover, MA
I was thinking about the past while dreaming about the future.
Appetizers for the Entrée
Your fluent tongue
Licking the length
The lustful look of
Your dark, penetrating eyes
Hungry for more
Hungry for me
You move into position
Your mouth working
Maddening moaning magic
I kiss your lips
Simultaneously
Returning the favor
Appetizers for the entrée
It’s more than fine with me
It’s a lot of fun with a friend
Appetizers for the entrée
It’s more than fine with me
We both come to the same end
Sometimes like ninety six
Oops sorry about that
Sometimes I’m dyslexic
Even with nothing so drastic
The lips, the tongue, the love
Can turn each other spastic
No need for the main course
So put that back in the drawer
Not tonight at least my dear
Just you, our passionate desire
And we’ll stuff ourselves silly
Having nothing but appetizers
Appetizers for the entrée
It’s more than fine with me
It’s a lot of fun with a friend
Appetizers for the entrée
It’s more than fine with me
We both come to the same end
September 17, 2002
Chelsea, MA
Eyes Closed
Eyes closed
Yet we see all
Through our skin
Conducting the heat
Hearts beating
Faster than techno
Mouth open
Letting out the sounds
Letting in each other
Lips lingeringly tracing
Encirclingly teasing
Constantly moving
Anticipation burning
Passion flowing
Instead of blood
Feeding the brain
Causing the moan
Twisting around
Turning across
Reaching over
Resonating through
Wrapping emotions
Everyway is heavenly
Positions so perfectly
Conducting the writhingly
Naked obsessions of us
Feeling nothing but
Sheer candlelit lust
October 22, 2003
Manchester, NH
If I can dream about it, I can write about it.
Nameless Face
Dreams so vivid so real
How can they not be
Each touch
Every kiss
Seems so much
More than a dream
Electricity in the slightest contact
The heat of her skin in my hands
Fell in love with a nameless face
For a few minutes at least
She’s just as real as me
Someday I hope to wake and see
Her sharing my pillow
And I’ll finally know
The name behind the dream
January 10, 2004
Andover, MA
I had an extremely long, very vivid dream about a woman. It felt so wonderful because it felt exactly like I was kissing someone…I could feel the exciting shiver of electricity jolt through me when her hand touched mine and when we kissed. It was so mindblowingly wow there was no way to even remotely capture the feelings or the moment properly with this.
Of Your Wonderful Perfection
Gentle breeze edging through
Softly rustling the curtains
Of the room where you and I
Are lying, feeling the breeze
Tickling our naked knees
Hair matchingly tousled
Lightly waiving above
Exhausted perma-smiles
The tippy tips of my fingers
Mindlessly tracing the smooth
Delicate curves and features
Of your wonderful perfection
In this moment, minutes last hours
And I’m cherishing each second
As the shadows slide across us
Watching the softening light change
The dynamics of your landscape
Until the only visible things
Are the two smiles in the dark
Which melt into one
February 28, 2004
Manchester, NH
The first four lines of this have been in Line Ideas since the spring of 2003. Heh, I guess I’m feeling overly hopeful tonight.
Forever Affected
Moonlight twinkles
On the keys
As I turn off the motor
And we sit in silence
For a moment
As our eyes adjust to the light
Or lack thereof
The small clearing
Beyond the windshield
Is full of shadows
And darkness
That would have scared us
When we were children
But we’re no longer children
Despite what our parents think
We’ll prove them wrong
Before the end of the night
We certainly will
And while we might be afraid
It has nothing to do with
Out there
It has everything to do with
In here
The nervous anticipation
Fills the car like a poison gas
Quickening our breath
Hastening our heart
Our eyes finally meet
And we slip and trip
Into each other’s soul
Submerging
And splashing
In the water
Of a thousand
No a million
Way more than that
New emotions
Hopelessly lost
In each other’s eyes
As we’re
Forever affected
By this moment
Never to return
To normal lives
Barely aware
Of how the body feels
Not really conscious
Of anything else
Since we’re
Still lost in the gaze
Hopelessly lost
In each other
Not aware
Everything swirling
In the foggy peripheral
As we drew closer
Then the world sparked
Amazingly brilliant
Light energy everything
All of the emotions
We were awashed in
Turned electric fire
As we touched
All inhibitions gone
Nothing nothing nothing
But the tortuous passion
And everything we felt
Everything we needed
All that we wanted
Yearned for
Craved
All here
And more than we
Could ever hope
To comprehend
Beyond understanding
But so wondrous
And our bodies
Naturally followed suit
Saying it was just
Two teenagers parking
Would be akin