Vulva

Vulva

Made.

You.

Look.

Busy

School. Please get out of the way of poems. I'm down 6, time to come back.

Busy

All this rush rush rushin's

got me cryin'

denyin' myself breath

denyin' myself love

denyin' myself myself.

Racing forward 'til I blur,

'n all you feel from me's a brush of air,

something that you KNOW, is there,

but only, if it's moving.

Teacher

An addition to the haiku series!

Old Man Teacher

Old man Teacher smiles,

kisses tips of wrinkled hands,

and waves us good-bye.

A Quickie on Affection

A Quickie on Affection

The note in the margin,

stained and sweaty from cent'ries,

reads: "Your freckles are my fav'rite."

A Cheesy Love Poem About being Dumb and in Love

A Cheesy Love Poem about being Dumb and in Love

Baby I'm not meant for dancin',

Sports and me don't get along,

But though my mouth ain't good for singin,

It's good for kissin' all night long.

...

Mathematics mystify me,

science, bio, all the rest,

the subjects pale inside my mind,

'cuz I know lovin' is the best.

...

I never claimed that I was bright,

and I can barely write a letter,

All I know's that lovin' you,

makes every moment better.

A Night for Cruising

Caught up tonight.

A Night for Cruising

Standiiiiing.

All, alooooone,

on the main deck.

With, the mooooon.

And missssst.

Sails,

billowing back behind me,

tug, at the ship.

Other nights,

we race,

but for now,

the sea is prime.

For cruising.

I Met a Girl in a Gaming Forum

For everyone who gets this poem:

I Met a Girl in a Gaming Forum

I met a girl in a gaming forum,

a real-life-actual girl

in a gaming-gaming forum,

the one where I won

the Pokemon tourney.

She was draped,

in a mythril Font,

Times New Roman,

classy but bold,

and all that she offered

for a picture

was a striking visage,

of Liv Tyler,

God's gift to elves.

She was talking: Zeeeeeldaaaaa.

Her vocab was solid,

she knew a Wind Fish from a zora,

and she could recite

every yellow button

of every sage's song.

I knew I'd found a winner

when I asked for her name:

"Margaret, or Margary,

but I go by Majora."

A Quickie on the Real Meaning of Hand Holding

For Lovers:

A Quickie on the Real Meaning of Hand Holding

If I reach for your hand,

know all I hope you'll give me,

is the pulse beneath your palm.

My Parking Situation

For Allie:

My Parking Situation

My neighbors,

h-are h-in,

my parking spot,

I see them I SEEEEE them,

paaaaarkiiiiing.

And they get out, and leave, their car,

fooor hooooours,

for hours their car is there

there just sitting there

and blocking my view...

of something I don't know what

but I WOULD if their CAR

wasn't there!

...

Breathe...

I'll just have to move it...

Dooooown,

towards, the pool parking lot.

Shame I don't have the keys.

All I've got, is this brick.

A Quickie on Impressions

A Quickie on Impressions

Don't let the spider webs

covering my window,

keep you, from coming in my door.

Speculating

Speculating

Speculatin',

speculate perusin',

touching touching at

the edges of things,

little porcelain kah-nick kah-nacks

and

pieces of pieces of string poking out of

the edges of things,

little mystery puzzle pieces

all piled up up up

and spilling dooown,

aaall over the floor

as we tiptoe we tiptoe

around the edges of things.

Sometimes,

we'll even go so faaar,

so far,

to reach in the pile

and root around for a while,

'til we pull out from the center

a pair of crystal earrings

that match your handbag.

Priceless.

Casting

First week of school has thrown me off! Curses! 1 of 6:

Casting

Line up by the table,

get, staaaaared down,

hopefully by smiling faces.

I'll smile either or!

I've been there before,

hoping for that happy glance

that tells me

YES!

We, LIKE you!

But they always, always like you,

believe it or not.

The Demon of Peachtree City (Part 2)

Sorry I missed a few days. I was sick due to what could be called mass consumption. After this poem, I owe three more. I'm good for it.

The Demon of Peachtree City

Part II (The Devil Woos Annabelle Lee)

In the bed, room,

down the hall, way,

in the house, of,

Annabelle Lee,

was a poor, girl,

all, miserable,

she was pray, ing,

down on her knees.

...

Blither blathering,

scitter scattering

her prayers to the Fates,

tryin' to reach God

but Devil got, in, the way!

...

Devil said,

Oooh, Annabeeelle Lee,

Why don't you send, your prayers, to me?

My passion is fired

to fill your desires,

Send your devilish prayers, to me!

...

Annabelle Lee

screamed, but the sound

died on her lips,

quiv'ring, she was,

For she hated

Old Tom Devil,

like every, good,

Southern girl, does.

...

But Devil was fine

and he caught her eye,

Devil tickled out her smile,

and with her sweet grin

she said, "Devil please stay a while!"

...

Devil said,

Oooh, Annabeeelle Lee,

Why don't you send, your prayers, to me?

I've been caught by your charms

and I'll do you no harm,

so send your devilish prayers, to me!

...

Thus Annabelle Lee,

was caught,

by the Devil.

An innocent girl,

he saved,

from her troubles.

He kissed her forehead,

and he sent her to bed,

he placed the demon, in, her stead,

oooh,

he sent the demon, in, to her head.

...

Devil said,

Oooh, Annabeeelle Lee,

Now that you've sent, your prayers, to me,

Your heart will go blazin',

my Hell you'll be raisin'!

'Cuz now you, belooong, to me!

Oooh,

Now you, belooong, to me!

The Demon of Peach Tree City (Part 1)

The Demon of Peachtree City

Part I

The air was boilin' over,

September 19th,

those harsh kisses of heat

a gift from last summer.

Some kind of some kind of

heat wave it was,

burnt the skin of your back

when you bent to tie your shoes.

And all of Georgia was laid out on the porch,

napping,

trying to beat the heat back to Hell...

But Hell had other plans that day.

...

Peachtree City baked in the sun.

The denizens dozed and the citizens slept,

and so did I.

True, I'm a Columbus boy,

but there was a girl

and there's always a girl,

wherever I go,

but this one was good,

this one was right right where I wanted to be.

But I wronged her.

See,

there's ALWAYS a girl,

where-EV-er I go,

but she wouldn't hear it

and had let me out to fry on the porch,

which I did,

which was good,

'cuz when Hell broke loose in Peachtree City,

it crept out of her bedroom.

A Short and Sappy Love Poem

A Short and Sappy Love Poem

You smell like cotton,

scented candles,

and all the air about you

warms,

embraces.

You hold my hand,

but I wanna be the one

who's holding you.

Environmental Design

Environmental Design

Magnolia pressed to brick,

roots scrape scrapin' at mortar,

tryin' to squeeeze out all the life they can.

License Plates

License Plates

Plate pressin, wedged up

against each other's shoulders

and grimy, chained feet.

Smile in a Black and White Photograph

Smile in a Black and White Photograph

Smile in black and white.
Amid a mass of fam'ly
portraits, you stand out.

Water Fountain

Water Fountain

A water fountain

gurgles, kisses the hot air,

hissing full of heat.

Wine Stains

Tonight I've got five poems and then I'm caught up! Three of them are MMCR-Y inspired haikus, yes, but I would much rather spend all day working on one than trying to write eleven all at once.

Wine Stains

My wine is leavin' stains

leavin' leavin' stains on the bar,

purple puddles on the stainless steel.

Some kind of fruit,

a grape,

bursts in my mouth,

sends me staring off after...

everything.

The Demon of Peachtree City (Prologue)

I'm closin' in!

The Demon of Peachtree City

Prologue

Neon lights flash flashin'

as I go drivin' past the town,

on my way to duel

The Terrible Acid Breathed Venom Skinned Demon of Peachtree City!

Blaring Billy Joel out my Toyota pickup,

I'm howling down

the seared Atlanta Highway,

316,

barely an hour away.

The pines are bare.

Their bark is scarred.

The sky's a rumbling black,

and the scent of burning flesh lingers in the air.

Gas tank's full,

and there's no turnin' back.

Our three fates hurtle together:

The beast's,

my own,

and yours,

my stowaway.

What has led led led us together,

even I can't say,

but I'll bear you on.

Now shut up and hold my axe,

and listen whilst I reminisce...

Peach Ice

Peach Ice

She's got a peach Italian ice,

let's it drip from her fingertips,

and patter 'gainst my palms.

Stupid Uterus

Stupid Uterus

Stupid Uterus!

The only thing you're good for

is what I DON'T want!

LAWLZ

These next two are again haikus from the MMCR(-Y). What, you don't think haikus are REAL poetry? Go tell that to centuries of Japanese tradition, punks.

LAWLZ

LAWLZ! Roflcopter,

OMG, did u c tht?!

jeremy fell DWN!

Irony in the Produce Aisle

I'm catchin' up!

Irony in the Produce Aisle

One: Plastic case of strawberries,

on a bed of blueberries,

Mother Nature pressure sealed,

protected 'til she rots.

Fox News

Fox News

This Fox News Alert

brought to you by Terrorists:

You all let them win.

Nuclear Bomb Attacks

Nuclear Bomb Attacks

Get under your desks!

Pray to your god! Kiss your ass

bye, Motherfucker!

"Thank You"

"Thank You"

These two simple words

just might save the world one day.

Remember: "Thank you."

Amnesia

These next four are the result of a Haiku game played with the infamous MMCR(-Y). You give each other a topic and write. The title's are the subjects that she gave me.

Amnesia

I'm walkin' to the...

Did I leave the oven on?

Where was I? Ummmmmmmmm....wha?

A Short Blurb on Flying

A Short Blurb on Flying

Crispin me crispin me

airstrip,

Burn off my excess and lighten me

up.

Loosen my limbs,

scrape of my sins,

send me airborne

past Delta,

and Airtran,

and angels, angels, angels,

in flight.

A Girl in Moscow

Gonna catch up this week, gonna catch catch catch up!

A Girl in Moscow

I had a girl in Moscow,

she was a silver thing,

a sweeter thing there never was!

...

And golden curls, they graced her,

they fought against the snow

to shine shine shine!

...

Why did I leave my girl in Moscow?

Why did I leave her anyhow?

Why did I leave my girl in Moscow?

...

How she would sing of Russia,

And I could make her blush

with yarns of Georgian afternoons.

...

Behind the window pane,

we'd hide and wait out night.

The dawns would always come t0o soon!

...

Why did I leave my girl in Moscow?

Why did I leave her anyhow?

Why did I leave my girl in Moscow?

...

We stole each other's hearts

and dangled them to play

at being thieves and laughed out loud.

...

She boasted that she knew the city best, said she

could show me all the twists and turns...

of the town.

...

Why did I leave my girl in Moscow?

Why did I leave her anyhow?

Why did I leave my girl in Moscow?

...

But I went home to study books,

and she stayed on to do the same.

Now I'm aged and wise and rich,

and all I want is golden Russian curls.

...

Why did I leave my girl in Moscow?

Why did I leave my girl in Moscow?

Why did I leave my girl in Moscow?

Sun and Wine

By my count, I owe 6 poems. Here's one today to keep the ole gell runnin'! I'll close the gap! Let it be known that Jake Young always pays his debts! In good time!

Sun and Wine

In the flicker of candlelight

wait for us a pretty sight,

a lakehouse home,

graced with kisses of

sun, wine, and morning mists

flowing in off the skin of the water.

Laid beneath the pine trees,

a view, a view, a marvelous view for two

upon a weathered crisscross of roots,

smoothed by countless lovers

who cooed below the green needles,

green needle-needlin' the palms of our hands,

our backs,

between our vertebrae,

make us catch our breath

as we twist with the trees.

Manager Birch

Manager Birch

Birch is comin',

fiiingernails strummin'

on his clipboard,

clip. Clipboard.

Eyes,

pryin' 'n pullin' 'n bendin' back

everyone's pages and reading our margins

and note note noting

all our stray marks.

He's a clerk who can't stop counting,

cal-cu-lating mistakes,

mon-i-to-ring schedules.

But while he breaks

our coffee breaks in half,

he keeps the business goin',

keeps it flowin',

keeps the whole place hummin',

alive.

Birch is comin',

fiiingernails strummin',

but catch his eye,

and you might see it wink.

Canadian Courtyard

Okay, got a lot of catching up to do:

Canadian Courtyard

I'm leaning out over a Canadian courtyard,

just a little lonely.

Bob Dylan took the train for Toronto,

Stanley Kubrick's flown to Rio,

and all the movie stars

flagged down vans and roared away

in flurries of maple leaves.

Somebody!

Get me a Caesar!