liqidtouch

moonie? whos moonie?

its you now that your using DSL and where my pic?

WALLET?

i dont want to hear any excuses there little missy!!! you can post on CP from anywhere in the world so you bettter be returning with the PLAY BY PLAY Actions that yo have going on in philly- visit south street for me- say what up to TRENT REZ hes going to be in the icecream shop by the hat store.. you know what im talkin about dont you??... that is where you post saying WHO ARE YOU?

i will plead the 5th at this point

Originally posted by esco you're a weirdo -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Reread it dude. Kids got mad skills. there is often more to words than meets the eyes- there is often more to us then what we say- there is often more to thought than the words we lie- so shut up geek - learn your place- and leave me to play ..GOT SKILZ?...

sirens \ in my comfortable chair I sip a hand-crafted ale and wonder how the poor are getting along. I take in tonight's entertainment: the red neon rush of fire engines off to parts unknown. to me it's just a movie. for me the window is a barbed wire fence beyond which happy marionettes dance in perfect circles. In this prison I dream of being nowhere else. In this sactuary I drink the rain that washes away your song.

silk please encircle my fingers my neck my waist propeling me into clouds of perfume. breathless I dare not remind you that all I ever wanted was the moonlight reflected in your hair.

september before the leaves are gone I want to taste the silence of a star-filled sky. before this sunset becomes a memory I want to feel the tightening grip of a hot summer night. I want the clouds to forget my name. I want just one more sunrise. someday before I die I want to redeem September.

rush hour -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I love you when you run to catch the train. your perfume surges and when you collapse in disappointment I swoon except for the scowl of contempt that pulls the next train forward greeted by your beautiful jaded eyes. I sit two rows and half a world behind you waiting for the next connection.

true support where support is due thanks bro

roses -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I had always thought them overrated after all I gave you a dozen after our big fight and you barely looked at them until they were withered and colorless and then you thought I was so sweet for giving you this bundle of dead plants. It must be me an uncultured white rose so out of place in a world of color and protocol. every thorn I've grasped with bloody hands has reminded me that my words are only modulated noise. I could never give you the correct time of day but I can always give you roses.

point-and-click nostalgia -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- your letter remains unwritten in a corner of the room that never sees daylight. as always my memory is more forgiving than the compression algorithms and no amount of enhancement could erase the smile that wasn't there but then again I could never see the dark spaces between the pixels.

MIRROR FORCE objects in the mirror are closer than they appear. always check the blind spot before changing lanes. are these metaphors for life, I ask myself? I don't answer. the look in your eyes when you almost drowned. I knew enough not to reach for you but to jump right in clothes and all. panic didn't set in until years later. this is why I shiver at night. another swimming pool, much more recently. five pairs of brown eyes smile at me. the water is shallow this time. I smile back. returning home from Albany I wonder how I'm going to survive the trip without coffee. I'd count volkswagens but I'm one or two decades too late. in the rear view mirror I watch two people kissing in the back seat. one of them is me. I tell them to keep the noise down. they ignore me and disappear. years later I can finally admit just how much I miss them.

what we are made of... she worships the sun. I held her in the palms of my hands tanned and voluptuous trickling from my fingertips. she melted against my shivering nakedness until my every pore screamed for her. I should have guessed that she would never be mine but it was too too tempting the glorious blue sky and her majestic wings of wax.

confessional of my feelings for you I protest your schoolgirl charm and Minnie Mouse eyebrows. But I digress. Evening staggers along Boylston Street dreaming of designer coffees. my Visa card is maxed and I have no cell phone. I am struggling to understand that Prudential is not an adjective while the leaves are falling before my eyes. Tomorrow in a sacred shrine of plexiglass I will accept the fact that your all-too-rare smile is not for me.

communication of man and woman the way I see it this train will never arrive -- we'll all end up frozen solid to the platform. so in preparation I strike a series of fetching poses each worthy of immortality. the others ignore me. they don't know it but they are also modeling and doing it quite well. as the poet amongst us I am pondering the monument's inscription: we meant well. we waited. we never wept. you never came.

chocolate orgasm I saw you and no sooner wanted you. I tasted you and then had no choice but to devour you your sticky sweetness streaming down my chin while I churned and surged oblivious to everything except my need my need to have you melt between my fingers my need to feel you dancing on the tip of my tongue.

pulling out of the driveway one of them always lingers. a pair of dark brown eyes my eyes gazes intently motionless while I smile and wave and slowly drive away. the three hours home are always dark. music blaring I can still hear the echoed laughter the contented sigh the question never asked. I am fighting sleep. my back is aching. I have been torn to shreds in some nightmare in which my children are bored and tired of the long drive back and forth and have better things to do on a saturday night. parallel parking I am careful of the car behind me. I climb the steps to my apartment without turning on the lights. and in my restless dreams I somehow know that I will never stop bleeding.

BLACK MOON I want a black moon silent and without reflection. I want to clench the stars between my teeth until they bleed. I want a violent wind to rip through palm branches like newspaper. I want every corner of the house to rattle and moan. I want to keep my bloodshot eyes open all night long because I never want to dream again.

G-I Jane in control you are pure plastic pain. you are punishing me for every G.I. Joe assault imploring my daughters to starve themselves for a body like yours.

BETWEEN EXITS I regained consciousness just as the rain became heavy. I did not move. I had dreamed that I was on fire standing on the platform while the train moaned into the station. the conductor offered me a drink from a brown paper bag. I declined. awakened by thunder I clawed at the tall crabgrass. turnpike traffic streamed in the distance but could not see the words formed on my lips the name I can no longer hear.

Poetry in a manner of speaking - and PLEASE do submite your as well..... my gothbabe my pale and delicious gothbabe dangles from a wire hypnotizing me until I beg to be poured into the gutter. then my words my faint and hungry words spiral before her like a daydream and gently kiss her blackened lips until her body grows warm and her dark eyes stare beyond the stars. my gothgirl my hot and breathless gothgirl draws her sword and challenges midnight shredding the cruel cartoon leaving me without weapon or pretense at her doorstep alone. my lover my warm and naked lover wraps her arms around my shivering flesh around my words and swallows each loud trembling syllable.

my reslts Cyber Goth -- I pity the fool who threatens you. Between tweaking on caffeine rushes and chain smoking, you are way too good with computers and all things high-tech. Throw some morbid humor and way too much electric blue eyeshadow into the fray and you've got a jittery, demented, and very capable person on your hands. I'm never giving you my e-mail address.