i wanna wish for better times and times are good, but it ain't grand and the skemes are worse than ever and i meant to be great but i missed fate by a moment. holding onto what's become my passion placing my past in the trash bin and picking it up to do backspins and relaxin's not really my thing. i guess that's why it's a mess. messy meetings for better moments in time trickling down the waves of my emotional undercurrent. i take detours before i wake up and when i walk with eyes open it's as if doors keep shutting and openning and closing and disappearing and wearing on my memory. my mind is missing the points and placing space in my pockets that are filled with phone numbers and bad credit. i'm indebted to the medication of procrastination while holding hands with multiple ordinances and opting to go on. so go on wish for bliss and send me a kiss while i'm missed my mrs's. hopefully one day we'll forgoe it all and dive deep with sea fishes while our dust whistle's in the wind. i hope the ship can hold that long. i love you.
talik
This page features some poetry and thoughts from our collective of poets & writers. Please check out our event page under the link section to keep up to date on what we are up to as well! Disclaimer: Some blogs contain adult language and themes.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Monday, May 3, 2010
blessed I guess
still paused and flowing slowly...
...with the vibrations unseen
and the busted perceptions of a lucid daydream.
willful thoughts, old and moldy...
...in a mined basement, come clean
while a trusted connection spun a musical crazy scene.
it's hot but cold and lonely...
...kissed by my angels under wings
until those muddy collections uncovered a hazy sea.
wishes got bold for only...
...a second or two...
who would've guessed it could move?
the simplest gift was lifted once or twice...
for only a second or two
-TraveleR-
let me.
i'll hold you until you bleed nothing but sunlight and daisy yellows against cement.
like every golden dollar thrown into a fountain filled with shining wishes.
speak nothing but whispers when you are so far away that only the wind can carry it to me-
secrets of barren hearts that were robbed empty of color when worn on a sleeve in a black-and-white world.
show me your favorite colors so i can paint myself in them and you will never feel grey,
i can be every hint hue tone of hope in your day if you let me.
the train tracks that kissed the landscape of your beauty, gritting metal to rich soil, left more than rusting steel
and i know this and i can see this and i hear it in every cracked syllable of your exhausted speech.
but let me be your dream catcher.
i will wait by your side to collect every cloud atop your head and pop it until you see nothing but rainbows.
the pot of gold at the end will be my arms filled with every drop of love you never received when you should have.
i'll kiss your wounds into scars and your scars into
so distant memory because these hands will stitch you new.
if you let them,
if you let me.
let me be the thief of your darkness,
i will harness every act of war the world will try to lay upon your smiling face.
shadows will no longer dance around you, sprinkling defeat along your path.
they will bow to you and fear your light.
all the screams you sequestered that tore at your tissue will leave and become music for dancing feet.
you will dance, dance,
dance until dawn and dusk both applaud you.
until the stars demand an encore.
until the moon's face glows with tears because in all it's years
it's never seen anything come close to such wholeness as you.
believe this promise song i offer you.
believe i would die for you if it made you happy.
believe that my hands can't hide every hole in your soul,
but they could damn well try.. they could damn well try.
if you let them, if you let me.
-m.o.
like every golden dollar thrown into a fountain filled with shining wishes.
speak nothing but whispers when you are so far away that only the wind can carry it to me-
secrets of barren hearts that were robbed empty of color when worn on a sleeve in a black-and-white world.
show me your favorite colors so i can paint myself in them and you will never feel grey,
i can be every hint hue tone of hope in your day if you let me.
the train tracks that kissed the landscape of your beauty, gritting metal to rich soil, left more than rusting steel
and i know this and i can see this and i hear it in every cracked syllable of your exhausted speech.
but let me be your dream catcher.
i will wait by your side to collect every cloud atop your head and pop it until you see nothing but rainbows.
the pot of gold at the end will be my arms filled with every drop of love you never received when you should have.
i'll kiss your wounds into scars and your scars into
so distant memory because these hands will stitch you new.
if you let them,
if you let me.
let me be the thief of your darkness,
i will harness every act of war the world will try to lay upon your smiling face.
shadows will no longer dance around you, sprinkling defeat along your path.
they will bow to you and fear your light.
all the screams you sequestered that tore at your tissue will leave and become music for dancing feet.
you will dance, dance,
dance until dawn and dusk both applaud you.
until the stars demand an encore.
until the moon's face glows with tears because in all it's years
it's never seen anything come close to such wholeness as you.
believe this promise song i offer you.
believe i would die for you if it made you happy.
believe that my hands can't hide every hole in your soul,
but they could damn well try.. they could damn well try.
if you let them, if you let me.
-m.o.
Monday, April 19, 2010
moments: 1-5
when chelsie rose was still part of spoken views and she proposed a book idea for 1,000 moments from 10 poets, i came up with 50 before the plan was abandoned. they were supposed to be short and kept simple. i found some today on one of my old blogs. who knows, maybe we could still do this book. i like where it was going. anyways, here are five for now. i'll keep posting them in increments.
1.) sweaty palm electricity
stutter, stumble over words hormone
jaw dropped and drooling mouth prone
imaginary fairy tale brain land
working out scenarios your hand could, should
brush against mine
affection growing as a tumor benign
infecting smiles, causing shakey knees
melting me to the floor in heaps
2.) concrete convulsions
crumbling quickly to cover up
the lower level black asphalt lover
sediment and dust caress it's worn places
red bricks looking like chapped lips
roughly and hastily kissing
the forlorn and lost other half
3.) unwanted lips
touching the back of my neck
insistent words fall somewhere between
the cracks of my poor communication
and your hands groping to be fed
the weight of your boflex body
pressing against the back of my small frame
crushing cleanliness out of my skin
heavy breaths fill my ear
and i know what it feels like to want to die.
4.) the light projected onto the crowd
strips away daily facades worn on our faces
the beat drops and dancing hands
float through the top of the mass in unison
elbows bumped and toes stepped on
go unnoticed as eyes are glued center stage
see the knowledge being dropped out in rhymes
into the mic that serves as a weapon.
we're all aspring to be inspired.
5.) on these dirty streets of reno
one man positions himself in the same place
daily during summer on virginia st.
in between the silver legacy and the golden pheonix
preaching the words of god
he placed his palm on my forehead,
prayed for my lost
and told me that i was saved.
that god was watching over me.
seconds later a friend and i were
hassled by four or more bike cops
that placed us in handcuffs
for breaking curfew.
thank god.
-m.o.
1.) sweaty palm electricity
stutter, stumble over words hormone
jaw dropped and drooling mouth prone
imaginary fairy tale brain land
working out scenarios your hand could, should
brush against mine
affection growing as a tumor benign
infecting smiles, causing shakey knees
melting me to the floor in heaps
2.) concrete convulsions
crumbling quickly to cover up
the lower level black asphalt lover
sediment and dust caress it's worn places
red bricks looking like chapped lips
roughly and hastily kissing
the forlorn and lost other half
3.) unwanted lips
touching the back of my neck
insistent words fall somewhere between
the cracks of my poor communication
and your hands groping to be fed
the weight of your boflex body
pressing against the back of my small frame
crushing cleanliness out of my skin
heavy breaths fill my ear
and i know what it feels like to want to die.
4.) the light projected onto the crowd
strips away daily facades worn on our faces
the beat drops and dancing hands
float through the top of the mass in unison
elbows bumped and toes stepped on
go unnoticed as eyes are glued center stage
see the knowledge being dropped out in rhymes
into the mic that serves as a weapon.
we're all aspring to be inspired.
5.) on these dirty streets of reno
one man positions himself in the same place
daily during summer on virginia st.
in between the silver legacy and the golden pheonix
preaching the words of god
he placed his palm on my forehead,
prayed for my lost
and told me that i was saved.
that god was watching over me.
seconds later a friend and i were
hassled by four or more bike cops
that placed us in handcuffs
for breaking curfew.
thank god.
-m.o.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
$ex Cells
so, i am serious about this erotic poetry collection. and, i would like to edit the final chapter, as a sort of collaborative collection. anyway, i am including a little sample, so the spokenviews and poetry universe doesn't think i am blowing smoke up skirts. check it:
the sound of her screams seems
like the sonorous insemination of jet streams,
incantations of past relations packaged
inside of her moans and ejaculations,
stress's is no longer manifest but my
hand prints are impressed upon her chest.
she's lost in far-reaching gazes that
beseech love live beyond the moon's many phases,
and, nothing fazes me or amazes me
quite like the way she falls back lazily,
with her arms out-stretched in praise of me,
abandoning far-fetched ideas of chastity,
yes, lose yourself in abandon,
let's take a ride in tandem,
as questions fly at you at random:
what lies beyond those clenched-eyes and bitten-lips?
what pries open clenched-thighs and birthing-hips?..
...just a sample, now keep writing and keep loving!
~MarvinG
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