Post by luceluna on Oct 28, 2001 7:05:48 GMT -5
this is a couple of months old... but i was working on my art book for school tonight and did a photo-collage piece using a picture of the person this is about.... 
i think i prefer the photo to the poem, heh. it was written drunk, listening to Staind (who rock, BTW).
l'il dan
Meetingplace
Heat flickered and sweated on the tile;
Drew bloody, clot-thick breath;
Exhaled. Empathy ran,
Howling for the room, baying for blood.
We crouched and drank,
Deep and angry and lustily desperate.
Expanding on the seams, tickling
Dimensions. Igniting veins,
Pregnant with anything but sanity.
Dripping, I dropped to the fleshy ceiling
- felt bells fall on Myra’s stomach -
While he fumbled the cubicle lock.
A foster family of dreams swirled the air,
Poised, then blurred,
Melting indignantly.
My foot ached with hate,
My Achilles heel itching the frame.
Outside, wood splintered.
Aaron crept through my lungs.
Tedium ceased as I sucked epiphanies
From the faucet.
All ebbed – my soul
To squeeze his gulping pain:
Majestic, quavering butterflies,
Befriending my innocuous, fuzzy trolls.
Water seeped under the pins and migraine, grey.
I sunk to him, concave and gasping,
His twisted knots bristling:
Beautiful, scalding to the touch;
Eyes shifting like fox slits –
Sly openings, oozing.
With our pores thick, auras drenched,
Shards bubbling, I whispered:
"To be complete…"
"Now I shall leave,"
He smiled back, signing my prescription:
Floating away my final pieces
As I toppled, concussed,
A shell.
i think i prefer the photo to the poem, heh. it was written drunk, listening to Staind (who rock, BTW).
l'il danMeetingplace
Heat flickered and sweated on the tile;
Drew bloody, clot-thick breath;
Exhaled. Empathy ran,
Howling for the room, baying for blood.
We crouched and drank,
Deep and angry and lustily desperate.
Expanding on the seams, tickling
Dimensions. Igniting veins,
Pregnant with anything but sanity.
Dripping, I dropped to the fleshy ceiling
- felt bells fall on Myra’s stomach -
While he fumbled the cubicle lock.
A foster family of dreams swirled the air,
Poised, then blurred,
Melting indignantly.
My foot ached with hate,
My Achilles heel itching the frame.
Outside, wood splintered.
Aaron crept through my lungs.
Tedium ceased as I sucked epiphanies
From the faucet.
All ebbed – my soul
To squeeze his gulping pain:
Majestic, quavering butterflies,
Befriending my innocuous, fuzzy trolls.
Water seeped under the pins and migraine, grey.
I sunk to him, concave and gasping,
His twisted knots bristling:
Beautiful, scalding to the touch;
Eyes shifting like fox slits –
Sly openings, oozing.
With our pores thick, auras drenched,
Shards bubbling, I whispered:
"To be complete…"
"Now I shall leave,"
He smiled back, signing my prescription:
Floating away my final pieces
As I toppled, concussed,
A shell.
not too primitive i hope?