Encre.

 

Je me suis fait un sang d’encre pour toi
Comme une pieuvre dans un gros bac chinois
À voir ce matin les bobos sur tes bras
J’ai bien fait de penser très fort à toi

Que nous soyons amis ou amoureux
Mais maintenant nos cœurs battent à deux
Je te comprends beaucoup plus que tu crois
Alors s’il te plaît la prochaine fois appelle-moi

Burial

JUAREZ

On Virginity.

I

Surrendered
To the lack of control
Surrendered to

II

Holding back
a profound anger towards
The incrusting
Other
A profound anger towards
Its vulgar appreciation of my skin
A profound anger lingering over the pleasure
That remains held back

III

I said I will not grow up
like them
and there for I will not grow

IV
Underlining guilt
I have sinned
indulged in the filthy
throbbing
glistening of your eyes
of you skin, drenched
Sweat
I have gained an appreciation for the gain of attention
while you surrender to the animosity
I will not surrender to

V

The communion of both
and the sudden submission
the lack of love
only the need to achieve satisfaction

You are no longer the one I had imagined
You have fallen from the pedestal created
To the creature
We all are
Therefore no longer better than the rest
Unless
You resist

VI

Your body is beautiful
within its details
But your nudity frightens me

VII

If you are suddenly vulnerable than
Who will take charge of me

VIII

Way too close to me

IX

Way too distant

X

You have no idea what I really long for
it is not the orgasm
It is not the peeking pleasure of my
organs clashing
It is not the celebration of love
But the appreciation of the layering dept
That caresses the shades within my skin
You plunge your fingers within me
Taking
Wetness for granted
Taking shivers for what they are
And my discomfort for what it isn’t

My mind is un-stimulated
and as uneasy as my eyes
a profound

My saliva finds in yours
incomprehension
And while I entertain this love and hate relationship with your teeth knocking on mine every few minutes

There is no common ground of appreciation.   

 

Sarah

XXII

Poetry is the subject of the poem,
From this the poem issues and

To this returns. Between the two,
Between issue and return, there is

An absence in reality,
Things as they are. Or so we say.

But are these separate? Is it
An absence for the poem, which acquires 

Its true appearances there, sun’s green,
Cloud’s red, earth feeling, sky that thinks?

From these it takes. Perhaps it gives,
In the universal intercourse.

WALLACE STEVENS

Cascade.

will you feed me the confidence I need
when I run dry
out of
and I induldge into your hand placed in minde
thank you for the extra attention
and  I’m sure I kind of owe you one now
Let me wake you up with warm coffee
and with the few drops of water
sliding from my skin
freshly out of the shower
first thing in the morning.

 

Views on Goodness, in several parts.

I

This role that I have to submit myself to
so good
when did goodness become not enough
against the will of being understood
against the will of climbing
over while the
stench of
pulling your body right back down
to where they wish
your soul was
you talk
I listen
and I become submissive
to the emotions you have towards the other
to the emotions I give out to an other
To the lack of self respect
I surrender myself  
I am sitting on the sidewalk drenched
in the gaz of the night passing by
and you are telling me you
have all these
strong transient feelings
while mine are present
while I absorb the same gaz
The same darken air
I am sitting on steps
smoking a cigarette
smoking the feelings that are not
suddenly pouring into me
smoking the air
that is soaked in nicotine
and the thoughts
unabsorbed

Second Picture; Richard Hamilton

II

and perhaps
I still havnt figured out 
how to be a friend

III

Genuine goodness is 
not as important as they made it seem in church
when I was 12.
And sins
are facts of existence 

IV
 
Sometimes coming so close to understanding
but never quite
mind breech
my mind often
tends to fail me (play  tricks) 

Surrender

I no longer seem to have any memories to list
I remember your hands grabbing my waist
and telling me
I am crazy
just a little bit
and you are crazy as well
just a little bit
and I  think I must have been way drunker
than you
and my best friend loves
the same girl you used to like
and she told me she enjoyed your presence
and I enjoy you more
and more
and I enjoy your brother’s presence
you both are

such a strong 
a soothing strenght
to me
but you love those pretty girls
and I’m not pretty in that same way
but my arms still seem to surrender to the comfort
of wrapping around you
take me in
to what I do not fully grasp
although this is all such cliché
I chose to juxtapose you
right between those letters
because your smile
is right
at the
appropriate place to me right now
lets be friends

Tomboy

Faces within screens of voices
all I would long for
is the sinuous shapes of
skin under mine
under the lights
and your eyes
just screaming silence
within your lack of movement
or perhaps
overdose of
while suddenly
you led heels sinking into skin
again an overdose
of lace within your voice
a sight into the future

WISHFUFILLMENT

How many times can I say me in a poem.

I do not want to know what you have to say
about yourself
about how much you love
how much you think of
what you aspire to
be
if there isnt a drink involved
in my lips to be
let you money slip out of your fingers
right into me
I wont let anything get closer
to inside
of me
farewell love
let me
drown within my
lack of me