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Old 12-16-2013, 11:47 PM View Post #11 (Link)
psychoecila (Offline)
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Originally Posted by lalodragon View Post
But I want new thoughts and so I'll give you some

your last Kleenex
...and fitted jackets
put me away, destroy me in a hurry
it would need to rain
rimstone dams
Patricia, Caroline, Linda, Thelma and Bea
you are dishonest
a senile wikipedia
You know that moment when you have a cold and you reach for the tissue box and pull out your last Kleenex? That's the worst. Two of the best things in life, though, are belts that fit perfectly and fitted jackets. It would need to rain to ruin a day while wearing those two things.

Aaaand that's all I've got for you there...
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Old 12-17-2013, 05:37 AM View Post #12 (Link)
Isis (Offline)
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Not sure if this is really a Claudine poem, or if it's somebody else.

Claudine on the road

It would need to rain for the dams to do anything more than groan
against the sides of the canyons. The damns in me press against my sides
with the force of the rain that wastes itself on the upper atmosphere.

The mountains belch cold down the canyon. The dam holds it, a tense body of air.
I am like the Colorado: tapped into salt marsh, a wet heave across the border.
It would need to rain for me to rise up and become more than I am.

I am sick of driving, for one thing. Here the whole land is sunset, as I am,
a smoggy streak who's been out too long alone.
My fingers are dried and ridged from salt like rimstone dams.

Donkeys pick their way through the frost on the far side of the canyon, slow
under the heave of their riders, sway like girls in high school I can hardly name.
Donkeys, you flirt with the cold light like they did and I name you
Patricia, Caroline, Linda, Thelma and Bea.

You, and you know that I'm talking to you, you too
are a donkey picking through rubble somewhere far from home.
I'm on your mind, but just barely - perched and parched at the edge
of your memory, a collapsing canyon. Put me away, destroy me in a hurry.

I hope you slip on a stone and break all four ankles and have no one follow your braying.

Thank god for Patti Smith and fitted jackets though neither belong in the desert.
Thank god for glove boxes full of cassettes and the flotsam left
when you did. I blow my nose into your last Kleenex and mostly dust streaks out
like a sneeze at sunset. For the sun to set it would need to rain.

And when it does the water on the dust will sing "you are dishonest",
and neither of us will be able to listen.
						Last edited by Isis; 12-17-2013 at 04:19 PM.
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Old 12-24-2013, 05:50 AM View Post #13 (Link)
Hardc0re_Writer (Offline)
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Patricia, Caroline, Linda, Thelma and Bea boarded the spaceship, took their seats and fastened their seat belts. "You are dishonest!" Patricia shouted at Caroline who just got up from her seat, went to the back of the spaceship and fitted jackets made out of pure silver that bends easily!
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Old 12-27-2013, 09:35 AM View Post #14 (Link) It Would Need To Rain
mcdavey (Offline)
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It would need to rain
for life to remain.
From the sullen clouds
above - the pillows of angels
...a hint of white in the gleamy harmony of blue;
keen and sleek; lost in the vastness of gaiety,
yet, waiting to be swallowed by the expanse below.
To the glossy globes that hang
in those twin balls burrowed into the skull.
There is no end to their descent
for they are fecund and pure - the incarnate of pain,
strewn into the frisky sinews that glide beyond grasp.
Stop them not!
Let them flow!
For when these bowels have
been emptied of wetness,
Once again, they will know the charm of a smile.

Here's some -
* I begin to wonder...
* Friends at bay...
* Just a little more...
* Please stay awake...

Edit - It seems Isis typed hers before me. Already finished before I noticed it...
At the graveyard sits Injuin Joe
Shovel in hand and a frown of woe
Merry no more, you have found a foe
He's bound to dig up all you will sow.

						Last edited by mcdavey; 12-29-2013 at 01:38 PM.
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