[x]

Shunted RadianceUnsung Fun - (adj.); Unapproachable Sun

bakes hard all things so
floppy~free,
those soppable sides
of suppliment-succulent earth

Yet itself, so Astral...

PROJECTING (?!)
no, it was a question

ssss-sssshhh!

Light electing heat; delighted heights towards vexed defeats

Night does becomes you -
that black and blue fall

as You call
all knowings into play
(v); which slow the snow
but still they show
there IS a Hell

The Burning Ball
of brazen gall

relentless
repentless

The Yearning Bawl
(n/v); disassociates

.

HighWhorishly sniffing at the thinner air
- odor which was wonderfully all hers.
Things she'd brushed up against in her low-flying imagination now had a name.

Lubed Tart Target.

She was high on something.
Dusting crops that would bare no more fruit.

Grounded due to the weather
as most
Air Attack
nose-heavy equipment
would be.

She was in love with the landing strip.
Seeking that which was all in a row,

as far as she could see.

A batted-at moth addicted to openings...

Window Widow.

Dark-Dwelling light seeker
with average wings.

She is Ah Me Oh Earhart...

All-Me

Air Heart

Keep Your Hands Where I Can Hear ThemHow Dare We

Ink in the sink of realized mistakes
Stains from veins snapped hard
due to bursts of a worstead quill

I am what I will
and clogging my own drain
lets the filth run amok.

Crown of Golden BrownIt was a cupped and caked coincidence
how she could captivate a heated room with her overflow;
her crisp lips' brimming capacity.
The last words to cross them,
a batter of over-whipped thoughts
that would tastelessly toughen if ever exposed to air -

but she'd spill ill measurements anyway
into silver hollows
sprayed with protection and flavor.

A greased burn,
floating in flute juice,
was the crumb in pink underpants.

.

FacetsI met a man
who had no clothes
He was in the business
of making
buttons.

With my fishing string
and silver ring
He met me
when I needed
nothing.

A bullet-holed square
made of wood
made with care
arrived in the mail
today.

I met a man
who had no clothes
He was in the business
of making
the connection.

Crumbling Conversations"It is something to know ~ that a penis in tow,
and an arm
are very, very different...

neither
is the measure
of a master creator
a long waving stave of divinity.",

the matriarch said,

baring a strangle hold
on the wrangled mould
as she spoke to the Tiny Hiney Man.

Clearly a 'Ms. Under'... standing heeled and balanced in the cracks

Hiney Man looked on
as mustaches were hard to come by, and not every noble nose could afford one.

"And where there are pussies, there's milk, I assure
the kind that kittens with mittens adore...",

the matriarch finally felt fit to admit
as the crowd failed to roar
and the bulb never lit.

Toothless PupMarla had her three pairs of spectacles on and was sat upon the very high stool that Kedron had constructed
out of their old, pine wood loft bed to match her salvaged, pine wood easel.
Kedron wasn't anything close to a carpenter, but he figured most things out pretty quickly, given the right tools -
and, goddamn, did Marla have tools...

Sudden, there was a knock at the door.

"KEDRON!", Marla bellowed as if her life depended upon reaching the ear-less.

She continued painting, mostly sure Kedron was handling whomever was visiting, as Marla had reason to believe
it wasn't anyone they knew, nor anything that warranted a full stop to what

Tone Deaf.

The hyped price of hindsight
a noisy nap
Once thought to be consort music
is wrought with chipped
Shit Cellos

Past~Tense Penance
which ends up a meaty ear curled around the eyelet vowels

Instruments played between the knees
and the brassy sought-taught jaw harps

Rounds in a ring
Woven string
Strained within a
Heart's supple drum

A smile that goes numb while
warm words come
from a pink and soft-wet place

.

Barnacle Bills.

In a river of consequential roe
a twinkling wake
of what could have been
if only lapped and unlept for

Puddle Chiefs
& Splash Commanders,
pissed and slippy Sallow Mandors ~
The spawn of loaded brawn
and murmuring maid

Chummed-up wind
floats all downstream
Running the muck
ad'mired
It is in fin'nity
that scales are lost
and tails are tossed as heads

Carpe-diem
Carp of deeds
Barned n' Culled
your moated seed

Row the roe
and tow that boat
for life is but a stream

.

Abandonment SurvivedTHIS was the mall near the area I grew up in
- mom's favorite place to pretend she was some mutant cross between a rich Jew and one of the Gabor Sisters.
What a great place it was
to show off the weekly washed Corvette and the three-tiered Cocktail rings.
A wonderland of high-priced furnishings, electronics,
make-up islands, plated jewelry and 70's fashion that would taunt you to push any credit card to the melting point,
and put matching sets of anything Polyester on lay-away that no functional home actually need.

Gosh, I can't figure for the life of me how this mall went out of business with housewives like ma'mah
dotting the rollin

The fine line - PollockThe tracks of the railroad screech
and I go flying out the window -
bones splinter,
skin tears,
muscles shred,
and tendons rip.

And I am thinking
in the middle of the death roll
of imploding black holes,
and exploding stars -
how one stroke of imperfection
allowed for this all.

And I am thinking
of Jackson Pollock
having his half-calculated dance 'round
an oversized canvas with his wand
and paint -
drawing that fine line between chaos
and order.
A metaphor for this fecundating
universe -
for this violent human race.

And I am thinking
about all of those who
wondered
why
someone so close
to making a simple

Two WidowsAt the post office
an old woman with a missing limb,
replaced by NHS prosthetic,
cashes in her scratch cards.
She buys as much as her winnings permit,
gambling her dead husbands pension
to win back what her son is earning
working behind the register and serving.

Mrs Preston still wears her wedding ring,
Tommy was shot defending his country.
She sits at the bus stop watching the clock.
There’s a helium balloon tied
to the handle of her shopping trolley,
it says happy birthday
with a number that can’t be her age.
She sees the world
who look and laugh at the facial hair
she isn’t aware she has.

Canaries of CoalUndertaker

Your Scratch & Snatch Pursuit ~
The Skin-of-the-Teeth
you collect
be the Root of Victim's victim

an unwise slice of dice

a roll of buried bread

a Life

that resembles
unleavened
Progress and Product

lies in salted doughy knots
and here, you think you can rise them.

Kneading the Needy ~
Those who would sign over deeds
and these same widows wander
into processions not their own

Acid activations
upon bare bones, be a solvent
to cracked open flesh th

The ReasonableChildren
spontaneously jump from really high places
convinced they will survive it
and they are always

always

always right...

until coffee
and cigarettes
and god

and the
discovered hair from dark chaffing lumps.

Bouncing buoyancy ~
rubberize insulation

is the mark of the marvelously blind
who come in small packages;

a time in life where the Moon means
a clean fluffy bedtime
with a tummy full of tomorrow's height chart chalk.

Another day resets without question
and the looking-forward is more excitement

and less concern.

Why would I not

so purposely

start over?

Anchor Management.

:bulletblack: It is
Martial Arts,
this Logic

BLACK & TIGHT

So shiny~small

These bilking
Silk buttons

Vested clothes
For the cutting

Pure webs from an oily spinner
The endless threads fasten our mouths into bows

Mix-matched murmurings
Of nuzzling needles
Trapped and scratching for holes

HIGH & WIRED

Darned so direly.

.

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Air Conditional

by *TheMadMulatto, Jul 5, 2012, 8:48:08 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Urban & Spoken Word

It
was one of those
sultry summer sufferings

salt
on the skin
sulfur
in the wind

and every uncased candle
sagged
leaning to see how the butter on the counter was making out.

At a thousand degrees
SatYourRated Fat
while our comparative waxes boiled

Your hopping fly
to my sticky eye

where all of a sudden
yellow
is a bad color for a kitchen

Sweaty couples
in ignitable puddles
were boats without rudders

The Blue Abyss
missed us

ANY match would be lethal in this weather

Air Conditionalby *TheMadMulatto

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Urban & Spoken Word

~All-My-Darkness Aug 25, 2012

Psh psh?

*TheMadMulatto Aug 27, 2012

Nah. Not really.

~All-My-Darkness Aug 28, 2012

Smiles

Wanders off to find crabs for you.

*TheMadMulatto Aug 29, 2012

~All-My-Darkness Sep 8, 2012

Nay!

Make that shrimps!

Shrimps the size of cats!

(Runs off enthusiastically to find a way to make Tyler look like a large shrimp...)

*Immy-is-Thinking Jul 26, 2012

"and every uncased candle
sagged
leaning to see how the butter on the counter was making out."

Just... now I know my lurching candles are just curious...

*TheMadMulatto Aug 3, 2012

Yes... that's all they EVER do.

*LancelotPrice Jul 7, 2012

sultry summer satisfactions

salt and sulfur

save the bacon

*TheMadMulatto Aug 3, 2012

No, no, no...

sav-OR the bacon.

*LancelotPrice Aug 4, 2012

Save it from direct fire; leave the ultimate destruction to the stomach acids, and enjoy the process inbetween.

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