Best Underated Poem

Wretched .
 
Those damn lips
red-luscious-lips
moist
succulent
breasts
Ironing board navel
dangling diamante
surrounded
in black ink
roses intertwined
in butterflies
of blue
packaged
above the soft
shaved lips
I beg to taste
[just linger in]

I loathe those lips
malicious
self righteous lips
that ignite
the teenager in me
When my open
fly
pillars
her
gratuitous chin.
[while her eyes
stare at the heavens]

Looked down
with
intentional
discontent

Used her

Just used
those lips
to write
this poem-

This dismal poem
which is
as pitiable
as the event
as feeble
as the
"I love you" note
found
on the dresser

As pathetic as the next one.


-x-

I cannot say you are beautiful.

I cannot compare your eyes to stardust

or nebulae

or say your voice is as soft and delicate as lace.

Although you are my whole universe,

you are not my whole universe

and saying so would be an insult to space.

People are not the beautiful.

Neither inside or out.

You are not a complex planet

or a system of stars.

You are human.

You are broken.

You are messed up.

Just like me.

We are all messed up.

We made a mess of ourselves

to show people we were civilized

and no matter how enticing that sounds,

they are nothing but brittle lies

that crumble in the hands of truth.

There is no galaxy in your eyes.

I cannot say you’re beautiful,

so I don’t even try.

I cannot express enough of myself

to convince you how real this is,

how deep I feel.

This is the most I can give you,

a sad little poem.

It’s all I have

and I’m so sorry.

I’m sorry I write poetry in part

to make me feel more deserving of you.

Like the longer you spend on the tip of pen,

the more qualified I am to be with you.

I’m sorry I write poetry in part

to hurt you

and I wonder if you wonder

who it’s about

but lately,

I’ve started to realize that everything around me,

reminds me of you.

Your wavy brown hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail,

you’re gorgeous green eyes,

so curious for the things of the world,

how you always twist the silver band

on your middle finger when you’re nervous,

how your brows furrow together when you frustrated,

or how you smiled for everyone even if you didn’t want to.

I cannot say you’re as beautiful as Aphrodite

because you’re not.

As much as I want to believe

you hold the universe in your eyes,

or that your hair is angry ocean waves,

or that your voice is silky flowery lace but it isn’t.

It won’t ever be because we’re only human and that’s all we can be.

~A.K.Z

I really enjoyed the read. It was a beautiful poem. Thank You.

Almost

I almost wrote a poem about where I’d find what we lack
But now I take it back
For as I wrote I realized we don’t really lack at all
and I don't want to fall
It’s all so deeply buried beneath the obligations
And everyday frustrations
This earnest love, committed - but lifeless, cold and dry
As a gray November sky
We tiptoe and whisper around each other’s edges
Our duties driving wedges
Our bed is hot but even with our bodies at the peak
Heart unity is weak
I wouldn’t leave for sex or security or money
But intimacy tempts like honey
So please let’s start digging, exhume that old desire
The laughter and the fire
I want to re-explore our depths and find generosity
Awaken curiosity
I need to rediscover you and have you know my soul,
Let’s make each other whole
For I sense the things I’m craving could be right here at home
But my heart wants to roam
When our connection is a memory and we’re going through motions  
While denying emotions
Don’t let me write that other poem; I want to be true
Let’s regain me and you

Do not ask of me what do I look for
         
         
Do not ask of me , what do I look for        
I'look for remedies in a bottle of poison        
         
Very well aware that the era's unabashed        
I look for modesty in gaze of the fashion        
         
I'm conscious anxiety's displayed on all faces        
I look for a face that, still has a smile on        
         
Sun's in their eyes yet, hearts full off darkness        
I look in these hearts for a light that is turned on  
         
Do not ask of me what do I look for.....        
         
         
         
         
         
         
© KDAmB 2016

Pangs of jealousy filled my lungs
As I forced myself to breath.
My mouth a dry, barren wasteland
with gritted teeth as strong as mountains.
My fingers shaking ever so lightly,
Like leaves dancing in the wind.
In and out.
In and out.
I must remind myself
She walks as if she were
trotting alongside cotton candy clouds
Her hair bouncing with every step
The short stacatto of her heels
In sync with the stacatto of his boots
Together
Hand in hand
Fingers interlocking
Like matching puzzle pieces
They walk together as though
They were the only ones in the world
Not caring for anyone but themselves
While I sat on the sidelines
Admiring every aspect of her perfect being
~AK.Z

Glass Houses

If I were to gather all the flowers
you've sent me in messages,
my hothouse would be more
exotic than any wintergarden,
the scents heady, suspended in
moisture trapped between glass walls,
amidst strains of harpsichords.

I don't quite know whether I would
be the lady lost in thought, book
open, neglected in my lap,
finger marking the page...

or the one whose nose is pressed
against the glass, looking
at a world I can only conjure
but never truly take part in.

© May Rayn/Amara Novi 2016

Meat for the Stones

Cobblestoned scales ripple over the serpent's skin serving as headstones of an antebellum past  

I run to dodge the bombardment of hailstones camouflaged in charcoaled mist  

The wind plays tag with me and catches its prey,  
She pushes too hard  
And I am sent careening across slickened stoic skin  

A warm crimson trail starts at my nose and is diluted by the rain as it meanders through the crevices of each flake  

I hear howls of laughter in the wind at my demise  
Vibrating street signs chortle along  
at the cruel joke that is me, fallen and drenched  

I stand to see a few  hunkered in doorways as if to play hide and seek
They've lost in this folly too for they're lashed and taunted for not finding safer haven  

Briny whispers breach the sea walls and waft o'er head  
I can taste the salt now mixed with the blood  in my mouth  

The sky is kindled and all is  illuminated for a nano second  
An accompanying baritone roar staggers me  

I knock pitifully at a stranger's door  
My doleful eyes and reddened spout the cost of admission  

 

THE WILL OF MEN

if not for men
and their will to open
their fists and their hearts
tragic feminine beasts of burden
the will of men still in  
their carts

Last Call
 
I've got that itch
that ache
for the strobe
of bodies
pulsing
heat
stroking
skin

sweat
that streams
and stinks
of the sex
I'll have
as soon as sober
melts away
in the fire

revelry
nerves blow
reveille
and I salute
the rising
flagellate you
into frenzied need
feed on the fluid
dance of desire

tango
with naked lust
as you lead me
twirl
dip
pull me up
grip hips
head whips
hair pulled
back

arced
electric beats
speed the
rhythm
midnight blues
bleed away
at last
in the call
of your name

catholic black op
I once was employed in a Catholic condom company.  
Making sure the heathens reap what they have sown.  
We spend our days just sitting there,  
With little sewing needles prone.  
Making tiny pinpricks in the tips of rubber sheaths.  
as we clocked out at the end of each shift.  
We say a little prayer
"Praise the lord  
And glory be,
May the sinners find God  
In the custody courts,
And true salvation  
In paying child support."

Curiosity

As long as you are looking, let me see
If I look, then you will know that I saw
Peeking at all the wonder and splendor
that breathes deep from the bottom of your soul
As long as I am looking, let me know

Fill me with wisdom that will cure
the blindness we sometimes create
And the passion that you own
Will be something to I can taste

As long as you are seeing, let me feel
If I see, then you will know that I have noticed
The soul is wide open to all of your enticement
and seductiveness that challenges my mind
To make me believe that I will go blind again

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ICE

Party streamers, like over cooked spaghetti
hang despondently from the bar optics.
A half empty bottle of champagne
sports a cheap looking pink paper party hat.
Five cardboard party horns, like cylindrical pyramids
Stand erect, their dampened mouthpieces
pointing towards heaven. They remain
upright despite movement from the current swell

There’s a silver tray of half moon sliced fruit.
They sit like a new deck of cards, fanned out
Evenly. The odd one missing.
Condensation surrounds the ice bucket
like a ballerina’s tu-tu.
Inside the bucket just an ocean of water.
There is no ice, cubes or pieces,
like the water that surrounds us
A child’s teddy sits on the bar
holding a gaily coloured drinking straw.
A half full glass is expecting rain
carrying a Chinese brolly
with a lime handle.
An abandoned cocktail weeps
Into its lemon slice
I hear faint strings.
There’s an eerie echo
Of “Nearer my God to thee”

It appears Teddy is off duty.
I pour myself two fingers of
Wild Turkey Bourbon
and wait for the arrival of the Ice

The Fast Red fade of Elysium
She had long felt the glow of her red halo....
As if she were born under its neon din buzzing sign...

Causing her innocence to be flung tossed by the first wandering of fingers across lines and
up her too young thigh..

Red spent long before it should have and by men who had no right to her..

Her sign, she thought, was just too bright for any Elysium song...
So she did not indulge anymore
the daydreamer in her...
Any fancy of paradise was too peculiar sharp to shake fast...
To wake startled, and be forced to stare down the blue cold of reality in her Mothers tired eyes..
The forever there scared her silly.

She saw eternity stretch out into too much and never enough..
Into angry emptiness.
There was no just cause to dream in a void she figured.

She was hungry and furious with life that first time..
She walked fast down the grimy street,
He pulled up into the parking lot ahead in a big shiny black truck .
She understood he wanted a piece of her as his window slid down..

"How much?" he asked. Smiling.
The question crashed like a rogue wave from temple to temple and smashed against what little was left of her fragile heart...
The answer shook her...
I'm free she thought.

Finally the words "Twenty five Mister." ricocheted off her tongue like a bullet.
She looked at him with steely eyes of false self worth and bravado.
It worked.

He chuckled a "Get in darlin.."
His seat felt soft and warm..
She had been so cold.
She was grief stricken by its comfort.

Her cheeks grew hot as he chatted to her about his rough day and whiny wife,
"You sure are a purty lil thang, i was very happy, yes sirreee, very happy to see you.." he sang.

"How did you know?" she heard a voice escape her throat..
Terrified of an answer she was sure she already knew.
Her red halo buzz roared in her ears...
Salty wet filled her throat as she fought back and swallowed her rightful tears.

She heard a "click."
As he chuckled "Oh darlin, I know that look in your eyes."

Yes. She thought.
That must be it... the source of her light.
The seat sure did feel warm,
She sighed long and sank in.
Written by calamitygin (Jennifer Michael McCurry)