fodder

FODDERRRRRR

For a moment we are lost
among the shadows of yesterday,
and the hours and seconds past
shimmer forth in memory form.

I have been used to your skin
and my fingers tremble with
anticipation.

Time does not exist here.
The moment between
when you nuzzle my cheek
and when we are suddenly
much closer than I remember
is endless.

Dizzy, since all I am
breathing is you.

And then I can hear it,
the old fashioned silver alarm clock
and the heavy ticking it projects.

Time begins again
and you crash your lips to mine
and I can't help but remember
that you did leave me once,

but not before you touched
the patches of skin
that are tingling now,
knowing and wanting
the feel of your fingertips.
-----------------


Patches of skin
in certain and
specific places
remember the
graze of your fingertips.

The top lip
knows the feeling
of the middle
of your mouth.

The bottom lip
knows the velvet
path of your tongue.



-------------------

Hungry fingers reach, following the natural line that outlines my hip and leads to something more interesting. Velvet lips distract the mind so as not to alarm when nervous attempts are made. "No," she mumbles to fingers that play to close to lines drawn in moments where clarity is lost. Just lose her in your lips.

-----------------

I lost myself in the contours of your chest. You claimed my breath as your own. Patience, immeasurable, measured to recieve reward. It's ok, I'll wait. You've taught me how. Reinforcement is key.

I miss the way you taste.

You always leave so early.


The songs are slow, like the breath you lay across my cheek. The blankets are barely touching us, like fingertips tented and tracing your musculature. The light is soft, like the tiny kiss you introduce to my top lip. This is what it's like to be in a car accident. Shattering glass and metal twisted is sometimes called art. I can see the ice coming, but opening my mouth and swallowing your tongue allows for no warning. So we skid. We spin. We lose control. And we crash.

Musings (at sbux, shoot me)

him: what did you say?

me:
I asked her if I was the only one who spoke to her,
mind you I was whispering,
and then I told her that astronomy
and religion are useless,
because all I want to do is
preserve the mystery of the
world. I told her I didn't believe
that she was just a rock.

him: 'kay, you're right. Well, you're always attractive.
But still. Very attractive moment.

me:
Thank you. With three U's.
It felt good, for some reason,
like I suddenly had faith
in something.

(I need to make this a legitimate poem. mkthxbye.)

WRITING PROMPT - Expect edits. Lots of them.

LAST UPDATE: 2/9/2010
HEY: I realized if you don't have a deviantart account, you won't be able to view some of these. A number of them have mature warnings, which are blocked from non-users.

A 31 step writing prompt. Links are to the completed prose/poetry/bullshit on my deviantart. Completion is a lie. The gist of it: two original characters. One is a little more wise to the world, the other is learning the hard way. Some pieces share the same title as their prompt, others do not. This type of mini flash-fiction moment was inspired by a close friend of mine. He's a very talented writer and I want to attempt to do his methods justice in my own musings. Let's hope for the best.

01. letter.
02. sticks and stones
03. birthday
04. immortal
05. circus
06. abandoned (1/14/2010)
07. nosebleed
08. father (1/13/2010)
09. sunrise (1/11/2010)
10. distraction
11. habit (2/9/2010)
12. fuck (1/12/2010)
13. love (1/12/2010)
14. waste
15. skinny (1/19/2010)
16. eyes
17. white noise
18. impulse (1/13/2010)
19. addiction
20. desecrate (1/14/2010)
21. death (1/17/2010)
22. low
23. heartbeat
24. first kiss (1/12/2010)
25. tomorrow
26. sweet (1/18/2010)
27. fog (or mist)
28. can't
29. village
30. time
31. forget

I don't really know where to begin.
This living in sin is heavy on a heart
that can't possibly bear the weight

of counter-clauses and
(you know this line)
countless figure eights.

Maybe if I repeat myself
it'll be more than just letters.

But who am I to judge?

fishie

There's this feeling I get when you're falling asleep,
your body slowly giving more of its weight to my shoulder.
Some distant, ancient part of me
that has broken
begins to mend again.

Something about you feels right.
I have never found it
anywhere else,
and I hope to find it again.

Do you know
that I have compared
every fish I've met in the ocean
to the way you made me feel?

I miss you.

prose will bend you over a desk and fuck the shit out of you

I take my time jumping to the thickest parts of the ice, because if I don't then I'll fall right through and drown. The only problem is that there are only two chunks thick enough to stand on, but they're on opposite sides of the goddamn lake. I don't think I can jump that far. And where the hell did I leave my coat?

I wanted to hug you so bad. I don't think I can jump that far.

cervical displacement? (edits)

I am alone today
and it hurts.
Being alone

is not [like] a slow and crooked smile
as I had once observed
in a moment of clarity.
My stomach is telling me
that it fears cervical displacement
and nine hundred and thirty two baby chickens agree.
She says they're happy.
I hope she's right.
At least they're not alone.
Being alone

is not [like] a slow and crooked smile
as I had once observed
in a moment of clarity.
Aren't you supposed
to write about the things
that bother you?
This bothers me.