Sta.sh
Jukebox.
by ~GetYourGripLOOK BELOW IN AUTHOR'S COMMENT
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| Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Urban & Spoken Word | ©2009-2012 ~GetYourGrip |
A Woman From Priest River The threads of night knitted themselves over my face. Through the wide Greyhound windows, the shying daylight found cover in my head, and we shared the forced silence. I keep turning to Genie who's shouldering a pillow against the Missouri horizon. This woman just handed me her life over the span of four hours. I run a question through my mind for five minutes before releasing it.A Woman From Priest River by ~GetYourGrip
"Can I kiss you on the cheek?"
She let's me. And for a minute, she's young again. The anxious glow in her chest translates to her eyes and she aims them at her bag as she shu
Hitler's Barber Hitler had a barber, I'm sure.Hitler's Barber by ~GetYourGrip
The way the horizon shown through
the open door in the mirror,
they could've flattened time into a stone
and skipped it 'cross a century,
blown on a kiss from Berlin.
You know the barber wanted to.
Touching blade to power.
Feeling it.
The possibilities vibrating
in his fingers from the shaving.
The paper's grooves beneath the tip of my pen,
my chest flattened to sheer white,
the decision to write; an incision.
Read into me.
My voice is a razor.
Hitler had a barber
whose mistakes are a choice.
History, under his instrument.
Sin, under my breath.
I could lay in the street,
ejaculate on myself.
ride the blue you're always aware of my tongueride the blue by ~GetYourGrip
and what it does
to keep you listening
come to my light with
a grip on significance
you'll want to expand
your stance in crowded rooms
i'd loan you my skin to paddle out of these trench coats
but you've looked preoccupied with the voice in your head
for about
ever
stop pretending
to be so fucking sexy
you are
i've grazed gumdrop accent marks in your body language
learning you softly
you say you like it hard
so i keep my tongue running
syllables to clutch the moment
into a crease in my shoulder
my mirror stopped looking
outward this morning
so i push hard to get into it
the moon and i spi
Powder I wish to evaporate in a bolt of lightningPowder by ~GetYourGrip
like Powder,
ambling through a field
at staggering velocity.
Unlike Powder,
I want a full mane of hair
lashing my cheeks in the wind,
kind of like the passenger's seat
of a long ride.
This life
is a long ride.
It's always a shame
when you hear about fatal accidents,
but suicides: those hold a grain of beauty,
because at least you know the person
got to choose the way their curtains would close.
I don't claim to be an expert of death,
much more a friend of it,
a lover if you consider how often
it comes up in my thoughts,
like gray whales for air.
Gray whales share the same life sp
forge home yes, i've the skin of a page,forge home by ~GetYourGrip
see me be or seize this tree
& colorize me however you admire
whatever you'll accept, except
if it's white again,
i want substance,
& volume,
i want your thoughts
lodged in my margins,
don't allow the color of your ink
to stop you, don't even let
the borders stun your right
to write, aviate your pen
& my ears will catch every word,
my leaks will ingest your conviction
& embody your pain,
whatever you do,
don't leave me be,
don't leave me the same
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