Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Queen of France

Poetry: A Chorus Line

New york beckons.....
a summer with chorus line tickets,
light on the over,
the over-foyae,
accounts of her new,
cigaretted fetish,
learned in recent days,

Bright, under-sexes possibles of momentae,
it was on the stage only that day.

Expenses on the pay-out rant through,
does the virgin have to?

Jazz, some of them do sump-in without a spaz.
eclectia bright, away from all that jazz, critquia spite,
call it back to bun-head, too uptight,
but, its such a lie on me,

Diversions all-around,
aspiring to be sex free,
in the summer of 83,

and the bring goes on,
time to trash,
as the garbage strikes' on,
spired heaps intensiating initiae,
demands to a virgin,
a virgin into cancellae,
rancidia reeked on,
the thought of get
New York there,
was wrong.

Why am I so truthful,
to the lead on,

Now, I'm a sexed-in wimp,
fearing to overshow that display,

Where was I, waking into, the variations.
they can be entertaining,
where was i,
living in the was when,

This one is too old, this one is too romantic,
this one's a porno poet, and they go on and on.

Even exageratum recalls
into happiness thinking back that way.
no, I don't think so,
I was the only naked
swinging out of a window that high.
2 or 3 levels, don't do it, please don't try.

Not sure on detailing all the where's,
sometimes it became a quest,
a character role
to avoid the bathrooms rest,

Near a forest on the echo,
a castle calls
its afore hards of yet,
stairs into experience,
as a knowing
henced into met,

Island only there in boat-of-row
as river quiets and fades into a know,
poison sumac glazed in summers glow,
nakeds innocent plundacious
within leafs delerious and redaeshious,
golden grailed forested light,
calls into a kink, a-have-to
of being tied up that night.

Grodes of grodacia
swoonic heat
caves of cavacia,
grime'ing into afternoons
non-interuptus,
away from meanders greets. 


Dropsheeted to canvas vote-in
greys political concrete
of remember then.



All the housery
locations on recall
saddens to the list,
another house space,
adorning domestias enchantric race,
"Beloved, home sweet home"
I really loved it here,
saying to the realtors,
While selling the place. 

Reminisces time into a reminisce,
when trash was heaped up so tall.
a very unbrave there,
I was not a get,
still living in 'yet'. that's all.

Pianos calling Liberachi
time to grave-fright them out,
"This is a bus tour inside room,
always on a walkabout.
invisiated unfuns,
ghosted into gloom.
populated world,
seems to be their rooms."

"It was an isolated expensia",
who knew..., localian limits,
"Only blue lagoons".

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Queen of France

Poetry: Before

Before the phone call
re-embellishes der kleidungs she
of klimptic cape,

Read back its there,
streams of words on blogs there.

Attempts the strain
to go on anyway,
and lap up
this endurant game
of love,
love in a possible play.

Do not excite,
panging hearts into overbright.

Queen of France

Poetry: The Phone Call

"Danced away disconnections gone".,
handed out on the to
from the other side
thanks to the up
and down crew,

Rings out, on the tonae
holdoutive,
expelling calls away,
never, as the leaves grew,
never, never was the true,
dipp'in in,
dipp'in into pausae,
sorta gave up
on calls in those days,
eight years on the go by,
and taturshka baburshka
calls thru,
'fessin to his love again,
returning to his
love-again store

Til eruptia disroars
the guinea piglas died
only a few weeks before

On the pounce out
love again on the thru
strictin-into awesome,
awesome shock
to voice hear you two,

Fire yet again,
torches thru
instania divulge,
I'm getting *married.",

With options,
options of any hue.
getting married
any dress, even blue,

Distia, distia clique,
the phone call ends
states it out
theyve gone away

Wondering in, 
little sweeta cartooniaes,
questing out
on the call that day,
naughted on the into
only a shellfish,
ghostin thru.

Cartoonia gone
despairing on
hatin insta,
in follow thru
trapes in  on
into the trapez
away from cartoonia
drollian bees of ceaze the day,
missin out
space thoughts rebound
decoring meccas
lost and found,

Sting on spendation
dreamic illusivations,
drollian she
abound in writtenry,
tamed into
dictas society
no fire, no free,
cloud away,
theres no free
with her bee,

Regrets to the hard hit
on the sendae,
during and after
phone-callia way, 
undeserving,
grandin into battement,
high in the pinnacle,
over-heightened in done,
smushing deflate,
tender hearted egos
need-int hesitate
innocentaes keep that
continue on
nude in away
from her dates
un-fond play,

A breath held too long,
no choice,
she had constrictas on,

Accepted love
on the sudden
with differences on,
accelerate away
little shellfishy
swim away
and be gone.

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