I don’t remember how I felt
holding your naked body
against mine, our lips pressed
together, then silent mouthing
words lost in that moment.
We stayed there not speaking
our pulses slowing, regulated
by the silence, and it’s a shame
silence had to come then
when I had a head full of ideas.
It was just easier to lay there
solemn as a London guard
at post before change.
Looking down
into the clear blue
depths of your eyes
beneath my outstretched arms
toes gripping the edge hard
trying not to lose balance
in the wind
blowing my hair back
like I’m James Dean
and you’re frozen in place
the last second
before a movie kiss
your eyes solid
clear
clear blue
if I fall, will you catch me?
[b]The Library[/b]
A whispered hush blankets the musty room.
Pen and paper merge to pick up any
hitch hiking thoughts.
Pages rip, in disgusted fury, exposing their naked predecessors.
The silence breaks by whispered halls.
Eyes flutter, re-crust over in sleep.
Shuffled footsteps and muffled voices drift by
while half yellowing books stagger their dormant lives.
Their tattered spines hunched over on shelves like gossiping wenches sunning
their frail bodies in the fluorescent light.
My gaze, focused, upon the hundreds of thoughts steaming from bent heads.
Silent, unspoken.
Dancing around the mind like forbidden taboo.
The books hold on cover for my spying eyes,
craving the knowledge of free thought clouding up the musty room.
Curious as a boy, finding his first porn.
Glancing for only a second or so
And jealous of these dying books
staring into the face of any wondering soul.
For hours upon hours
Page after page — thoughts absorbing thoughts.
by Alicia Ranney
([email]bo*******@*ol.com[/email])
if words were bullets
my poetry would be a gun
pointed at the head of change
we all want
we all want
we all want
to
rid ourselves of red lights
dead dog days walking
down unairconditioned streets
of degradation
& explanations
& contradictions
& salutations
we all want
we all want
we all want
to
condition for the moment
and ready ourselves
for the changes
when we’re never ready
set
GO!
how do I find ways to get lower
going
down
down
down
on the daisy chain game
of chutes and ladders
my number should be up
in the air among the clouds
yeah, way up where
god plays golf on the weekends
and when I get there
I’m sure he’ll let me play through
