A Writer's Discourse

Often, while lines broke off, words
streaming wayward, pages and pages
disappearing in magical puffs, often
in the middle of such incongruity

I wondered if silence was a better
way of saying it.

Affirmation

I, Everything. 

Pop. 

After Re-Reading The Hollow Men Two Times Two, Failing To Realize That Unfinished College Assignments Need To Be Finished, I Write :

This is the way delay begins

This is the way delay begins

This is the way delay begins

Not with a whimper but a bang. 

and if you're interested : http://poetry.poetryx.com/poems/784/

..

How The Overtly Verbose SmartChap Convinces His Gullible GirlFriend That BreakUp Is Not Only Necessary But Poetic

..Tumble down the stairs, changing colour every step, and fall into my arms, your hair sliding down my face like a cold wave of air. Look up, to see, to sigh, to stare, to dare me to pick you up and rush outside, into the windswept forests, where the moon glides low, peeping from between the clusters of leaf-stars, rustling, murmuring, trembling. Hand in hand, through the unknown haze, discovering ourselves as we gaze deep down into horizon’s face, noticing a couple of children play, their laughter seeping out like warmbright rays into the cushion of clouds, the sky of promise, the breath of day. Not without laughter shall we depart, your eye in my eye in your eye, as the path branches, blanches, and breaks into two, challenging us, playing with our wits, sending down ripples of bittersweet pain down our spines, our lines, our delicate insides . Possibilities at the end of the road, where everything begins all over again, twinkling, smiling, shy; possibilities merging into one grand story, when we shall not be separate specks of bodily being anymore, but a song of unison, a flame of passion, a haze of joy, continuous, unblinking, pure. 

Unfinished Business With A Pseudo-Conservative Who Apparently Wants It Slow

The candle goes out
Poof, like a sunburnt romance, 
As the shadows roll-up and vanish
Into the conjurer's cardboard lair. 

There, but not there. 

Plucking up courage,  
Boom, like gravity from the sky,
I fall on your lap, flowers dipped
In honeysauce,the smell skimming
Down your thighs, before

The hand arrives. 

Dreaded swish, the flowers squirming 
In air, gravity all too clear, fleeting
Mid-air despair, as Hello, whispers
The dust-baked ground, near, near. 

Not fair,

I scream into her eyes, glimmering
Stones showcasing the birth of desire 
In the dusty dark, as I gradually
Realize her burning fear; for all I
Care, I hope I am 

Nearly there.

Game

Spread your fingers wide, and ask for
cluttered rhymes, patternless and sublime;
Sprinkled wet, since the rain never stops
while I shape lines. If you resist, and I guess
you will, for your ego's still shy, it is with
solemn triumph that I shall announce :
Oh dear, the Goodbye's all mine.