Pick A List--II

Per request, here's another Pick-A-List comp, same rules as the first one found here:

http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/competitions/read/7803/

One week, no collabs, enter as much as you want, any style, length, but this time, let's try 5 lists with 10 words on each, instead of 10 lists with 5 words.  Here we go:

List #1


Donuts
Chain link fence
Concrete
Armadillo
Sneakers
Moscow
Ocean
Glass
Fishing pole
Dust


List #2

Chemistry
Fingernails
Refrigerator
Peaches
Arizona
Aspirin
Bus
Pavement
Elephant
Curtains


List #3

Photograph
Seaweed
Cigarettes
Toothpaste
Canada
Gum
Storm clouds
Tiger
Tears
Buttons


List #4

Gravestone
Silk
Morocco
Rain
Grass
Slippers
Blood
Lizard
Sailboat
Tofu


List #5

Dirt
Rifle
Nebraska
Mountain
Jewelry
Paint
Igloo
Salt
Tractor
Wheat field

fishing on the streets of Moscow  List #1

He wore Armadillo boots
and carried a fishing pole
through the streets of Moscow
like it was a life line
to the oceans of home

I wore sneakers and thick socks
easier for jumping the chain link fences
on my way out of places
I wasn’t supposed to be
concrete dust and broken glass
embedded in the soles of my shoes
my feet half frozen in the northern snow

We walked our own adventures
the wanderlust for new places
and new faces leading us here
to the crossroads of opportunity
and into each other’s arms

We met over chai and donuts
in a café with no English signs
his Russian better than mine
though with his thick American accent
it was hard to tell

He was funny and I was shy
I found him charming and he thought
the way I blushed at his charisma cute

We fucked in his rented apartment
with the kind of views I couldn’t pay for
I stole his wallet on the way out the door
and returned it the next morning
relieved of its cash

call of the ocean List #3

She took photographs of seaweed
said she must have been a siren
in a past life
because she still dreamed
of men tangled in green
drowning in the deep blue depths
off the east coast of Canada
not too far from her home town

She said it was a pity she didn’t like men
or she would have drowned all her lovers here
as a sacrifice to the Gods of old
mourning their deaths in photographic art
no one but her would ever get to see

And perhaps then I should have ran then
but I loved her stories and the bleakness
of her smile that touched the sadness
in my own

She tasted of toothpaste and cigarettes
the flavour of her clashing
with the strawberry bubble gum
she stole from my tongue the night she kissed me
the amalgamation of foreign tastes setting
my mouth alight
under black summer storm clouds
the sky cracking open
to let the rain fall down upon us
like angry tears from angels
weeping that they could never touch this much beauty

Her hunger for love was like being ripped
apart by a tiger starved of all the things
it needed to stay alive
the buttons of my jeans breaking free from the fabric
in her need to feel my body against hers
as she fought to free me from my clothes
before we made violent love on the cliffs
under the heaving weight of the storm
half drowning in each other
half choking in the torrent
that raged around us

When I woke the next morning
waterlogged and alone
I found she’d left me nothing
but the memory of her touch
on my bruised body
and the camera roll of her suicide  

Be back later for this one... I feel feverish to write to you'll get some nice dark pieces.

your essence on the wind List #4

It rained silk the day we buried you
covering your gravestone in hues of gold
one ray of sun shining through the clouds
setting the grass around you on fire
and I knew then, that you weren’t really gone

We set a paper sailboat down the Draa river  
with notes we wanted you to read
on the other side

I don’t know what the boys wrote
but what else could I do but apologise
for the time I put a lizard
in your slippers and you slipped
as it bit your toes, trying to find a way out
and you fell down the stairs
covering the balustrade with blood

Your broken nose and 7 hours spent
in the hospital waiting room
unfair payment for my childish prank
it was truly the worst night of my short life
back then waiting at home with my brothers
half fearing I’d killed you
that you wouldn’t be coming home

I’d never told you before that it was me  

It rained silk the day we buried you
covering your gravestone in hues of gold
one ray of sun shining through the clouds
setting the grass around you on fire
and I knew then, that you weren’t really gone

One empty table setting
our world strangely incomplete
without out your smiles and laughter
to lighten the burden of our bad days
and light up the joys of our good ones
our Moroccan dinner table now a sombre
affair without you there  

The night you died we ate fried tofu
in the kitchen in silence
and drowned our sorrows in vodka
finding the mix unpalatable
as the basin felt our heaving wrath
and grief in the early hours of the morning

And I could feel you there
like the breeze
my soul a wind chime
waiting for you to come back
and teach me how to sing again
because this night I had forgotten
and our home had lain silent
for the first time in my life

It rained silk the day we buried you
one ray of sun shining through the clouds
to light up your new resting place
telling me you weren’t really gone

We set a paper sailboat down the river
it said “I love you, forgive me”
and in the scattering clouds
I knew you had
the rain mingling with the tears on my face
as I sang you my first goodbye

Great start, guys & dolls!