Topic: the long and short of it | |
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My coordinate System, youtube version... http://youtu.be/hVC2HCuVBA0 My Coordinate System tobacco stained nightmares, in alcoholic sweat the closet door pedophile’s preening on the net as laughing gas dentist yank teeth from a grin he smiles through the picket fence of his distorted sin I’m not sure what this about just mental masturbation with a climax of doubt pre-*** verses dripping down societies chin lethal contraceptive impregnating spin there’s a digital recording of a life you didn’t plan kept in sight by the face on a clock without hands this cell phone is a tether with invisible string connecting the forget-me-not’s with designated rings and I, I am a miracle I am superman without all the cool stuff you are my kryptonite only, without you, I would die anyway it’s a tricky thing, this life some die heroic, others live in strife while this flat tire turnstile keeps me on the side so I trade one for another and the other’s just the same lessons ever learned can always be reclaimed and the good girls sometimes get wax across the chest while bad boys swarm as angels take a rest you trade one for another and the other’s just as lame keeping with the theory of inertial reference frame shadowboxer curser, blank computer screen misfit island luau in honor of the queen smoke signal drifters infiltrate the scene corrupting all the produce and you’re a tangerine and in a world of great disease I am immune running round the motor track feeding on the fumes seizing moments from a life like the dish and the spoon trying to avoid the cow who’s returning from the moon and I will because I, I am a miracle I am superman minus the cape and sometimes, she lets me wax ...poetic ©kc2011 The long of it: I feel like this is your Tim Burton piece. I thought I would misunderstand it from just reading the title but as it progressed, the river of at times extreme verbosity was streaming downward, taking fantasy and reality along with it. You embrace being strange, in doing so you let in new facets to whatever face you put on when you write. Abstract but thoroughly intricate. The short of it: I feel like this is something you could read out loud laying on a grassy knoll near a lake. |
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My coordinate System, youtube version... http://youtu.be/hVC2HCuVBA0 My Coordinate System tobacco stained nightmares, in alcoholic sweat the closet door pedophile’s preening on the net as laughing gas dentist yank teeth from a grin he smiles through the picket fence of his distorted sin I’m not sure what this about just mental masturbation with a climax of doubt pre-*** verses dripping down societies chin lethal contraceptive impregnating spin there’s a digital recording of a life you didn’t plan kept in sight by the face on a clock without hands this cell phone is a tether with invisible string connecting the forget-me-not’s with designated rings and I, I am a miracle I am superman without all the cool stuff you are my kryptonite only, without you, I would die anyway it’s a tricky thing, this life some die heroic, others live in strife while this flat tire turnstile keeps me on the side so I trade one for another and the other’s just the same lessons ever learned can always be reclaimed and the good girls sometimes get wax across the chest while bad boys swarm as angels take a rest you trade one for another and the other’s just as lame keeping with the theory of inertial reference frame shadowboxer curser, blank computer screen misfit island luau in honor of the queen smoke signal drifters infiltrate the scene corrupting all the produce and you’re a tangerine and in a world of great disease I am immune running round the motor track feeding on the fumes seizing moments from a life like the dish and the spoon trying to avoid the cow who’s returning from the moon and I will because I, I am a miracle I am superman minus the cape and sometimes, she lets me wax ...poetic ©kc2011 The long of it: I feel like this is your Tim Burton piece. I thought I would misunderstand it from just reading the title but as it progressed, the river of at times extreme verbosity was streaming downward, taking fantasy and reality along with it. You embrace being strange, in doing so you let in new facets to whatever face you put on when you write. Abstract but thoroughly intricate. The short of it: I feel like this is something you could read out loud laying on a grassy knoll near a lake. Of course what I mean in the short of it is that most of the piece reads like a graphic novel, so it would only work reading at night time, near a sequestered body of water. It's interesting, I could actually see you reading this somewhere, I could see the setting. |
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thanks Audrey, that was nice of you.
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Edited by
kc0003
on
Wed 06/25/14 03:22 PM
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In The Light II..... http://youtu.be/NXBoNRygNPU
I fight your urging to open my eyes in the hopes, last night might never end. Your whispers... daring me to lay lifeless. I can't keep my smile from showing you there is no place I'd rather be. Your tousled golden mane sweeps over your shoulder, plunges and rest delicately on the rise of your breast. Feather light fingers trail up and down my spine, ghostly chills follow. Your ardent body pressing against me. Photo flash images rifle through my mind, fanning the left over embers of a red hot seduction weeks in the making. In this morning light I can almost pull the meaning of life from your eyes. You are the embodiment of spring with all its promise, washing the cold grey of a life of winters from my weary soul, and I am more awake than I have been in years. kc... |
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Edited by
Ainjel
on
Wed 06/25/14 07:19 PM
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Always touching, romantic and leaves you wanting just a little bit more...Beautiful kc with a hint of Neruda when I read it out loud..
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In The Light II..... http://youtu.be/NXBoNRygNPU
Touching! Good to see this thread come alive again. |
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In The Light II..... http://youtu.be/NXBoNRygNPU Touching! Good to see this thread come alive again. it does seem to come and go....thank you, |
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In The Light II..... http://youtu.be/NXBoNRygNPU I fight your urging to open my eyes in the hopes, last night might never end. Your whispers... daring me to lay lifeless. I can't keep my smile from showing you there is no place I'd rather be. Your tousled golden mane sweeps over your shoulder, plunges and rest delicately on the rise of your breast. Feather light fingers trail up and down my spine, ghostly chills follow. Your ardent body pressing against me. Photo flash images rifle through my mind, fanning the left over embers of a red hot seduction weeks in the making. In this morning light I can almost pull the meaning of life from your eyes. You are the embodiment of spring with all its promise, washing the cold grey of a life of winters from my weary soul, and I am more awake than I have been in years. kc... heard this a few times liked what i heard lovely reading Kevin |
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k...pleasure is mine to hear and read you...each brings it's own nuance to your creations...C
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I came upon the 2012 movie Fall, and watched it and I swear it was like hearing your voice/words through the movie...Way cool..
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I gave him my darkest (and most honest) poem for him to do a read thereof.
Waiting. Hahahaha. |
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Edited by
kc0003
on
Sun 01/18/15 02:50 PM
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my goodness, has it really been this long?
One Stop Passed Nothing The first beams of light are pushing their way through the darkness, corrupting the night sky. Your breathing has long ago turned soft and rhythmic. My mind, occupied with carnal thoughts, as my love scented fingers draw little circles on the small of your back. Your hair, tumbleweed twisted, lays stretched out in all directions. Most of it across the pillow, a few renegade strands cover your face in such a way, that a blind man could run his hands over it and read the letters s--e--x. I'm thinking of you standing there, nervous as I took your hand and led you to the bed. How you said you were fine and how voiceless mouths then dictated the conversation. Silence hid, until there were no hiding places. And I remember your breath deepening, your wet soft kisses as they began to harden and turn more rousing and more aggressive. Vividly I recall how a sigh interrupted your breathing, when my hand traveled from your knee, up your thigh and came to rest on your rolling hip. I remember my leg sliding over yours and you quivered ever so slightly. Releasing a soft alluring sound as you spread them just enough for me to fill the void. Outside the world is slowly waking. You remain my drawing board. My tireless fingers play connect-the-dots with the freckles on your back. Making sure to spell out your name and silly little things new lovers find cute. My mind has me recalling how our hands explored unfamiliar territories. Groping and squeezing, rubbing and lightly touching, repeatedly, as if fingers contain the power of memory and palms were capable of recording 3D images. When I finally slipped my hand under your shirt and reached unprotected skin; your eyes ordered me to continue. Your heavier exhales' demanded I free your flesh. And there you were, Venus in lace... If life were a bus route, I would have leaped from my spot, ripped the cord from the wall, rang the bell and declared this, my final stop! I'll never forget that next kiss, how you cupped my face with possessing hands and kissed me so true, I forgave the entire world for all its shortcomings. This non-temporal deliverance abruptly gave way to primal lust. The moment you guided me into you, my name escaped your lips on the tail end of an accepting moan and floated past me like a Monarch fluttering towards the sun. I lost track of everything, time, my surroundings, everything but you. You, matching me move for move, thrust for thrust, breath for beautiful breath. Until we melted together in love's liquid exclamation point! My hand wrapped in your hair, pulling the skin on your neck firm. Your legs, bent at the knees and draped over my lower torso, while your arms pull me tighter to you. I remember our deep, deep gasps for air slowing in unison and how that final kiss reminded me of ocean air, salty and tart. And I remember the very moment you fell asleep. So here I am, pressed against you; my fingers still diagramming your back. Wondering, when you awaken, how will you remember our first night? kc `15 |
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Beautifully Cracked... |
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Love reading this..Beautifully done..
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Love reading this..Beautifully done..
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