#1 poem or poem #1 which ever does not make you not read this
03:19 Nov 13 2006
Times Read: 545
The wind thru the door agape is nothing like
the howl through the slit in the door ajar
she puts her hands in her mouth
the sweet smell of Spring bottled or jarred essence
and this almost autumn August night predicts
the loneliness of the summer fling flung
I go outside to smoke a cat a kitten makes love ot my legs again and again
though I give her less and less each time, still she rubs back and forth
with hope dancing in her eyes her tail it wavers it hoovers
I glance and see the sun is upping later this morn twilight
it is as if war is on the horizon this farce of life that comes like
Hollywood I rock so well with real zeal for life
walking by the actors trailers
they see me coming and go hide from the fact that I can't act
their play acting doesn't lead to play money though
but I don't want to fluff, I don't want to be a scrub on a ride to the top
I know there is room at the top
I have always been alone
I am the cat behind the doors outdoors with the sweet smeel of Sping in my tail
hoping some woman, not a producer will discover me
the dust gathers on the frisbee and the tambourine on top
like a hulla hoop of childhood given up for the promise of noithing
there is nothing to hold breath for
all there is is to be a whore
once in a while
dance real in the farce, let the music make muscle layer your bones
move well, shake what your momma gave you in the spotlight of the DJ who is there for the hookup
but the light fades as the sunrises, the bed is without any smell but ya own
the lock on the door to keep peeps out keeps you in time and time again
grandfathered by rent, can't move because it is cheaper here
though the hood you know so well, you know so well to not to know them anymmore
but ya stuck here, the movie trailers, the strip clubs, the girls in jeans I walk faster and look at their eyes as I walk by, did I show them my bad side this time?
I do not think when, where and how when I pass which side should I pass for maximum effect
I think if I did plan to seduce her, I would always show her my bad side
the fool of beaute a beau with a frisbee a tambourine gathering dust
the little cymbals haven't chimed, it is as if time itself has stopped, all there is left is the march of the seasons
in the blink of an eye, amongst the firewroks I wrote aboiut the war
to end all wars, while China lit up the sky
when will be the next catastrophe?
I hammer away with my gift the megaphone born in my mouth has grown silent
my hands my hands they too move so well, I would rock her world, but she knows these hands
they've been a round the world
7th heaven, cloud nine and a count down that takes you down to earth
losing sleep in the nightmare approaching for lack of a dream materializing
I awake with a start like a war shaking heaven and Thor restless again for ever
all I want is is a woman who is is Isis
so she don't need to hear my snake his for me to be a man
that snake is for my pleasure, I can stow it when I have molted
the scale I wrap babies with and keep them warm and dry
I walk the streets like a crawling king cobra snake with too many hips
too cool, exotic unusual, out of place, out of time again and again
please woman, I hiss, make my emotions boil, and I taste the air with forked tongue
yet Saint Anne ain't there
if only ain't ain't in the dictionary
then she would be here and the nightmare
stowed under the pillow like a gun
never to clean by accident
hurting anyone in my loin, my spine, or in my mind lurking in my many many mines
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