Bounce

the first ten were filled with confusion,
fear and the unsettling realization
that the world has turned me into something
other than myself.

the old me, the real me,
would have exited this bridge
from the opposite end that I entered,
not the middle,
not like this.

eleven through twenty were not much different
than the first ten feet.
I had never given it much thought,
but the under-side of the bridge, with its tidy steel
and flat paint, looked sterile and dismal.
even through the wind smeared tears
and my mind battling
thousands of fragmented thoughts,
I was able to draw a comparison
to my own existence.

from twenty one to twenty five,
all thoughts went to those I’d left behind.
I imagined how terribly disappointed they will be,
but quickly realized, they probably already are.
twenty six,
twenty seven,
twenty eight,
it was at this point I started to think about the commuters
and the ones that will be sent to clean the mess.
the mess?
oh yes,
there will be quite a mess.

twenty
nine
feet

thirty through thirty seven, I asked for forgiveness.
I didn’t really think how I would interrupt all of your lives.
sir, I’m sorry you will have to miss
your son’s game today.
lady in the Accord,
please don’t let your kids look
as you drive slowly passed.
children shouldn’t see such things.
I’m sorry people
I’m sorry

don’t worry though,
in a couple of days
you will be able to pass under
this bridge without even the
slightest thought of today,
just as you always have.

at thirty eight feet now
the traffic below
is coming to a stop as people
watch in horror.
my descent
and ultimate demise,
is approaching quickly
at about 32ft. per second.
I have a new understanding of
the phrase,
terminal velocity.

thirty nine from my last first step;
my life is being shown to me.
it’s not like you imagine,
it is more like a scrambled
sequence of memories,
floating by on thousands of
broken pieces of stained glass.
each one illuminated by a
simple memory.
it amazes me how the mind can
project and sort so many images
in such a short amount of time.
forty feet

forty one to sixty…
doubt sets in,
all the things I thought I knew,
I now question.
all the things I never believed in,
I now question.
it’s too late,
I can’t stop this.
I don’t want to stop it.
what if I live?
no, no way,
surely a seven story fall is enough
to end my story.
sixty one
heaven?
sixty two
hell?
sixty three
my mind needs to stop
four, I wish I would have said goodbye
five, no, that would have been mean
sixty six, nothing,
a box in the ground,
that will be my resting place.

sixty seven
sixty eight
n
i
n
e
the last thing I heard was the screeching of tires.
a calm has come over me,
I don’t even hear the wind speeding by.

seventy feet
why cant I hear
I don’t want to hear

seventy one
I know no one will understand this.
I haven’t shed a tear in
thirty two feet.
I guess I’m just waiting for the finality
that comes when
teeth and bone
are set in concrete

seventy two feet
no bounce
just black


kc ©2011

The Guardian..............

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74ef97PE4j4

You are amazing KC..This was amazing..

not too mushy then?

No, no mush felt or seen ~ it was amazing..

thank you, you are too kind

In the days of old where Clubs were pillow strewn, coffee flowed, wine freely poured, people were coming down from their yesterdays highs, smokey atmospheres trilling the air, is where I see you, talking your rhymes, accentuating your prose, filling those who are taking you all in, with feelings of enamour, hope, peace, light and love...Oh hang on, maybe I'm talking about me there...haha...But hey, that is where I see you when I listen to your words you create...

Just sayin...

****snaps fingers****

haha...you two are funny

Just read the Bounce could not listen to the other one since I'm at work...

Amazing as always seems I need to venture back in here more often...

i guess you have some catching up to do when you get home. that is if you are not worn out from the show.....haha

Enjoyed the whole piece. Great storytelling in a limited format, but I have to say that this is one specific part in particular made me smile like mad. Very clever. Well done and very much enjoyed.

What an interesting thought process as your life passes through your eyes. Well done.

today, I write. not because I want to, but because
I have to.

because you are not here, and my heart is not singing.
you are not here and the chill fall wind is allowed to reach my soul.

time away from you is a yellow ribbon, beaten insatiably, by multihued skies
and chased out to sea on the wings of maybe. waiting, measured in sunsets,
few enough to count, too many to tolerate.

come love, tomorrow we walk; tomorrow we bask in the tenderness
of linked pinkies.

tomorrow we walk, there, where all of the something’s of our infinite
future congregate. where dams fail and desires flow freely over
washed gravel souls.

come, walk, out from the shadows of the still great oaks, into the
fields of evening primrose, locust on a feeding frenzy,
vegetarians with carnivore lusts.


kc `11

Still 'wow'..

An Internet Love Song


It’s kind of romantic, if you think about it, two people this far apart sharing stories of their lives, falling in love. Telling of past loss and dreams that had fallen short and broken hearts, but the internet has done that; made the world a smaller place. Even for people with big hopes and that is where they stand, the two of them.

Five months of phone calls, leaving their minds and their hearts to presume and wonder. Hundreds of hours talking, communicating without the luxury of hand or body or sight to unravel the mystery.

Until last night.....

She was checking in while he was at 30,000ft. He arrived 3 hours later; a taxi to the hotel, a silent and excruciating elevator ride; the card slipping into the slot, a green light. He whispers her name as he enters a dark room. “Baby?” She called.

He has heard her say that a thousand times, but none of them sounded as sweet. “Come here baby,” she says. This is the voice he has fallen asleep to so many times. “I’m right here sweetheart,” he replied. His eyes were beginning to adjust, but she was still merely a form in the night.

Anticipation thick in the air, he slides onto the bed. Lying on his left side he reaches for her, neither of them speaks. She moves toward him and he starts to ache all over, her shoulder feels familiar, as does the hand inching its way up his back. Her touch is gentle and calming, just as he had imagined.

They have been waited for this for so long. Then, that first kiss and in his head all of their conversations re-play. The goodnights, the stories the laughter; it all seems to combine at this moment: This one perfect moment.

She draws back the covers exposing her body from the waist up; he curses the darkness. (Silently of course.) He wants her like never before; he wants the woman he has been talking to for these many months.

She can’t take her eyes off of the darkened figure before her. Thinking to herself, this is the man who has made me feel again, this is the man whose touch I have dreamt of night after night.

Her hands find their way to the waist line of his pants; she grabs his shirt and slowly pulls it out, undoing the buttons and sliding it off of him. “I want to feel you against me,” She whispers. He lowers himself to her. She sighs and lets out the smallest of moans. “Mmm.”

Chest to chest for the first time they each feel the warmth of the others skin. He feels her breast pressed hard against him. She feels his heart beating through his. She throws her arms around him and they kiss long and slow, deep and passionately. He works his way to her neck as her hands explore the unknown couture’s of his back, kneading and rubbing its entire surface.

They have each, in their own minds envisioned this night. They have talked about it and even rehearsed it over the phone many times. He is familiar with her noises and she knows his as well. But now it is real, now it is happening. The way she is touching him is exactly how she had described it would be.

The lips working their way around her neck and shoulders begin to drive her crazy. His nibbles and light sucking are intoxicating her wondering mind. Slowly his tongue travels down the front of her elegant neck, reaching the hardened nipple of her right breast. She arches her back and slides one hand into the back pocket of his pants, squeezing hard into his flesh, as he pushes his hips gently forward. She can feel him hard against her and she forces her body under his slightly more.

He moves to her left breast and lightly kisses all around it, slowly making his way to the center, while his hand squeezes the other once more, before his fingers trail down her side and come to rest on her left hip.

Her right arm is underneath and hooked around him; her hand now sitting on the small of his back. The other hand is holding his head to her breast as he continues to suck and lick his way from one side of her chest to the other.

“I want you,” he says.
“Not yet,” she whispers.
She rolls him over on his back and straddles him, kissing her way down his chest to his stomach; she undoes his belt and slowly removes his pants. Straightening out his legs and pushing them together, she begins to crawl her way up his body. Her breast ever so lightly creeping passed his knees, up his thighs and coming to a stop at his already hard and waiting (well, you know.)

He draws a long breath in through his teeth; cooling his hot breath “SSssssss,”...and releases an even deeper “UUuhhhhh,” as she rotates her shoulders from side to side allowing her breast to massage him. She likes how he feels hard against her chest and his breathing is getting her excited. She takes one hand and grabs him for the first time; she slowly moves her hand away…”God….I want you,” he tells her. “Not yet,” she replies.

She works her way up his body, nibbling and kissing at his stomach; then his chest and shoulders, before putting her hands in his and pushing against them to help her sit up. She has pinned his shaft between her and his stomach. She can feel the heat coming from it, as she reaches down between her legs and positions him just right and begins to rock her hips forward and back again.

Unfolding around him, she continues to slide up and down every inch. Always stopping before she reaches the tip. She is dripping wet and glides easily up and down his now soaking wet member.

He is feeling her warm juices flow onto him, her soft lips massaging him in a way he has never felt before. Their excitement is building as her pace increases.

“God I want you...now,” he pleads!
She reaches out with one finger and places it on his lips and simply says, “Not yet love, not yet.”

She slows her hips and pushes them back as far as she can, then pulls them forward as slow as possible, traveling up his entire length, but once again stopping before she gets to the end. Leaning forward, she places both of her hands on the bed, one on either side of his head, and slides her hips once again along his shaft. When she reaches its head she pauses for just a second and tilts her lower body so she can feel him against her (magic button). It’s tempting, but she glides right over it and keeps going along until his (you know) slides up and comes to rest at the opening he so desperately wishes to penetrate.

He tries to push his hips up, but it’s too late, she has already slid onto his stomach. Slowly she walks her bent legs along his torso until she comes to his chest where she sits for just a moment. With one hand now on the headboard and the other clutching his hair; she moves her left leg over his shoulder and then the right, pinning his arms to the bed. (Not that he is resisting.) She lifts her body off of his chest and forward, tilting his head back, she leans toward his face and rests her (magic button) against his strong, square chin.

She starts to moan, as her hips begin to rotate around in slow motion, as if she were drawing little circles with her swollen (pleasure switch). He is lying there almost stunned at her controlling nature, but enjoying every moment of it. Breathing her in only makes him want her more. A strong force is building in her, and she pushes harder against his chin, the circles become smaller and smaller until she can’t take it any longer. She moves up to his parted lips and he gently takes it into his hot and thirsty mouth.

Rolling his tongue around, sends her over the edge, moaning loudly and pulling his head tighter to her, she climaxes in a long and violent rush! He works his arms lose; reaches around her back side and pushes her up so he can taste the fruits of their labor. Licking and sucking his way around the dripping area. “Stick out your tongue,” she commands, adding, “as far as you can.” He does and she raises her body over it and slowly lowers herself allowing it to find its way inside of her. He can feel her juices running down his tongue as he moves it all around the inside of her.

“Keep it out.” She says, as she continues to move up and down. Each time she lowers herself her (pleasure spot) rubs against the tip of his nose causing another storm to build. He is digging his hands deep into the flesh of her azz. Drinking her in for all he is worth; up and down she goes, faster and faster, each time mashing down hard onto his mouth and spreading her nectar all about his lips and chin. “Here I go again” she cries out! The combination of his tongue and nose and his hot breath all join together. Her left leg begins to shake and her entire body tightens and once again the wave washes over her.

With her leg still a bit weak, she makes her way down his body again. Straddling him, she guides him to her and rubs his...(you know)...all around making it wet again. With one hand teasing him with the rubbing, the other is on the bed to the right of his head. She leans over and licks across his lips and with a playful whisper asks, “Still want me?”
“You have to ask?” He replies, as he puts his arms around her waist and tries to push her down onto him.
“I have to make sure,” She answers, while still kissing and licking at his mouth and chin. Making sure to clean everything she may have left behind.
“Yes I want you.” He says
“I want you too.” She whispers, as she begins to sit lower onto him.

They both get quiet. She begins to take him into her and the silence is broken by the ringing of the phone on the nightstand. She hesitates, then reaches for the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey baby, it’s me”
“Umm...hold on,” She says. She is a bit disoriented. She takes the receiver and brushes it across the sheet to remove the sweat she feels coming from her cheek and ear.

“I know it’s late...I just wanted to tell you I cannot wait to see you tomorrow.”
Regaining her senses, she lets out a little laugh, “I can’t wait either.”
“Well, I’ll be there around 10:00.”
“Good, I have something planned for you.”
“What’s that?”
“I can’t tell you, you’ll have to wait!”
“Okay, but how about a hint?”
“No, just get here honey.”
“I will sweetheart...go back to sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Have a safe flight honey…and oh yeah, make sure you shave.” She giggled as she hung up the phone...


kc.

...Well done..

but, but, it's not a comedy!!!

Walking Alone

The gods have spoiled the earth,
soured the grapes and filled the flask with the
pungent contents of exasperated love.
My heart sleeps with the sadness of deaths cold door:
like a lone Saguaro standing at the deserts edge,
waiting for a drop of rain, a storm, a flood.

Love stands before me taunting me, mocking me!
Its left its mark, left its deep purple coagulated stain upon my once
open and bright heart.
Oh to bury the yesterdays which hold me in such profound divide.
Oh to walk once more the walk of duel shadows:
the walk of careless fortune.

The sea calls home each wave it sends to dispense its salt on the
lifeless sand of the shore, the tide rushing my cheek, salting my lips,
my words, my wounds.
Love stands before me, a sinister dove with a vulture’s talons, out of place,
like the single hoof-print I have planted in the sand.
The moon hangs in the blood-blackened sky,
reflecting in a sad mirror that has seen its better days.


kc '11