Finished? Or should I add at least one or two more stanzas? Gah I don't know!

“Two Feet in Different Rooms”

Dusty graves

Sway like waves

Cobwebbed and riddled with 

Spiders exploding externally 

Inside out intestines graze the backwards flesh

Leaving perpetual scars that taunt the concealed molecules 

Resurrection would be a curse

Thorns flatlined, thickly veiled in a sheath of 

Seeds in the grains remain

With a bitter residue, without the sting

Salvage sedation, spare the hovering apparitions

Triumphant soul tossed shapes of blinding gold 

Into the murky heavens that began to evaporate

They linger like a recurring nightmare

A moist facade oozes into orifices with reassurance

It seeps like raindrops surrounding dew

Bobbing brightly on the foliage, spearing unknown 

The green jungle curves with aromas of rot

The scent of intangible corners of concealed days

A ghastly tap resounds, breaking placidity 

Do fresh, raw scabs shimmy in the sky like shattered taillights?

Chance does not solidify soft ripples of sand

Fitting creases like a snug shoe

Scramble for a pressure point

Let only warm drops tinge hearts with ecstasy 

Ice is what keeps first and second hands clicking

Smothered amid the gravel that lines the headstones

Toes creep toward waxed, glossy spirals

A beacon springing from a gale

Waver in and out like flowing leg hairs

Strings dangle mockingly from shoulders like a noose

Selfless spirits haunt the entrance

Perks mingle with ammunition

Uphill with two-by-four soles

Shrieks futility and an urge

Shadowed corridors quench the sandpaper

Familiarity breeds from peaked wonder

It jingles through the lines like a bell beneath mistletoe

Trapped veins fail to squelch the crimson rose

The glittering abyss, phalanges nestled in sponge

The chink beckons with the Grim Reaper’s rainbow 

Roaring flames surge atop the glowing bricks

Flowerbeds erected from the blocks

Twigs immersed in the soil that deter

I want to be a lot of things

A pasty, gaunt appendage protrudes from the rubble and clamps damp metal

New Poem thus far. What do you think? It just hit me yesterday in my Poetry summer class.

“Two Feet in Different Rooms”

(UNFINISHED, of course.)

Dusty graves

Sway like waves

Cobwebbed, riddled with 

Spiders exploding on externals 

Intestines graze the flesh

Leaving perpetual scars that taunt

Resurrection would be a curse

Thorns flatlined, thickly veiled in a sheath of 

Seeds in the grains remain

With a bitter residue, without the sting

Salvage sedation, spare the hovering apparitions

Scramble for pressure point

Let only warm drops tinge hearts with ecstasy 

Ice is what keeps first and second hands clicking

Smothered amid the gravel that lines the headstones

Toes creep toward waxed, glossy spirals

A glittering abyss, waver in and out like flowing leg hairs

Strings dangle mockingly from shoulders like a noose

UPDATE. "The Lesbian Amelia Bedelia" Tale #2: "Trees Under Trees" MORE COMING SOON! I'M CHUGGING ALONG!

#2: Trees Under Trees

My dour, pursed-lipped stick in the mud of a roommate had gone home for the weekend, much to my delight, so naturally, I was prancing around the room, leaping onto the beds and desks, as Lady Gaga blared in the background in my fervent attempt to diminish the vision of myself at age seventy, alone and decrepit, stuffed in a bland and sterile nursing home in some god-for-saken town with nothing but a wheelchair and tubes shoved in my nostrils; ruefully praying that I had extracted more wisdom and love from the disillusionment that was my life.

  At first, I didn’t hear the urgent knocking that had my door wobbling in and out as thuds reverberated through my room. Then when I did hear it I yelped like a banshee undergoing surgery without an anesthetic and I proceeded to smooth my frizzed hair into place, and shuffled over to the door to see who in God’s name needed me this badly amid my two in the morning liberation jig.

  “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” I said crisply as I opened the door.

 It was my cousin who wasn’t really my cousin, Pearl. You see, our mothers were dear friends, our fathers third cousins with something or other removed, and my grandmother married her grandfather in an attempt at a second marriage. But of course, Pearl being the cool cucumber she was, was utterly unfazed. Her eyelids hung low with weariness and a tinge of stress.

“What’s the deal with your hair?” she barked, deadpan.

  I scowled and self-consciously patted my head negligently. 

  “That seems to be the question of the year,” I retorted, hinting to my friends’ relentless harping of my wide array of bizarre hairdos.

  “It could be worse though, I suppose. Thank the Lord you quit with the teasing already,” she said with a sigh, as if it was such a strenuous day for her to visually absorb me whenever I rocked a beehive. 

 “Okay, you had your cracks. How can I be of service?” I snapped hotly. I was this close to slamming the door violently on her fingers. Though of course, that would cause suck a ruckus that every busybody in my hallway would poke their head out like gossip-hungry ostriches to see what was going on. Especially my next door neighbor; Petunia. When she caught a whiff of something even a tad newsworthy, it would be like a shark sniffing blood. 

  Thankfully, Pearl cut to the chase.

  “When’s the last time you had your mind altered?” she wondered.

  I took a moment to allow this to sink in. Pearl had a tendency to get exceptionally cryptic when she wanted something. She would make a marvelous lawyer, with all the tricks she had up her sleeve. I raised an eyebrow.

 “What do you mean exactly?” I queried, crossing my arms over my bosom, or lack thereof.

“Okay, so I’m fucking stressed---Bio and Chem and my Humanities papers---I can’t take it, look at me I’m a hot mess! I’m turning into you---“ Pearl began, running a hand through her hair. But I cut her off.

  “Do not blame me for your neurotic self rearing its ugly head! It’s about time!”

“Whatever. Want to hit a peace to calm my frenzied nerves?” she added, composedly.

 I gasped, ever so slightly.

  “Well why didn’t you say so?” I demanded, feeling a coiled ball of knots beginning to unravel deep within the pits of my abdomen.

“I knew I could count on you,” Pearl snickered with glee.

I sprung out of my room, failing to close my door all the way. Pearl eyed my bare feet.

“Shoes,” she said, waving a finger in my face.

“Oh me oh my, what a fool I am,” I exclaimed, tossing my hands into the air dramatically.

“You can say that again,” Pearl muttered under her breath.

I chose to ignore that comment and stabbed my feet into my tattered red Converses and pulled my keys out of my pocket to quickly lock my door and hobbled down the hall with Pearl. After I nearly toppled over onto her like a bowling pin, she rested a hand on my shoulder and stage whispered, “Tie your shoes, asshole. Don’t want to fall into a ditch or anything.”

Hey, how’d she hear that anecdote?

I smirked at her, tied my shoelaces in the most meticulous manner I knew how (two bunny ears then one goes under the hill), and we were off. As I strolled past Pearl’s room toward the exit sign, she yanked me back.

“Pit stop---we can’t blow without the blaze, yes?” said Pearl.

And before I could choose the perfect witticism to follow up with, she sputtered, “Don’t bother, I realized how that sounded just a moment after it came out.”

  “Mmhmm,” was all I said. I flashed her an enormous, cheesy smile. 

  As we crossed the threshold of her door, right out of the corner of my eye I spotted Ling Kim, Pearl’s disheveled, glassy-eyed martian, who in other words, was her roommate. Ling Kim peered at me over her Nintendo controller with her bulging, Kermit the Frog eyes. She was sporting a hot pink beanie cap that looked like it was about five sizes too small for her head that was as elongated and misshapen as Beavis and Butthead's skulls. I nearly gasped when I fully took in her appearance. And allow me to say that I'm the kind of person who is rarely shocked by anything in this world. She was also rocking dump-truck loads of thick, black eyeshadow, eyeliner, and even to my horror, black lipstick. She looked as if she was half a breath away from flinging herself into a Sturgis rally.

     Could she be anymore of a walking stereotype?

    In addition to all of that shit, her nail polish matched what was on her face. Not to mention, the cherry on top of this sundae was her leather motorcycle gloves that even had chains dangling from it ever so subtly. 

    Okay, we get it Ling, you're highly menacing and are not to be fucked with.

     Paradoxically enough, the girl was wearing a tiny little Hello Kitty t-shirt and matching Hello Kitty shorts. She looked like she stepped out of a children's catalogue.

     But Ling Kim was never someone that had Pearl, myself or any of our comrades taken aback. I knew it was a result of all the high quality chronic she puffed on a daily basis. I was fortunate to always catch her in the aftermath of heavy inhalement, given that whenever I spotted her, strong clouds always tightly encompassed her. You certainly had to commend the girl on her taste.

  “Pure shit only,” she once slurred to me, her breath reeking of Bailey’s whiskey as I caught a glimpse of a shiny, silver flask dangling off of one of her bed posts.

  When all was said and done, the girl smoked like Snoop Dogg. Therefore, she wanted the world to know that they shouldn’t even bother raising judgments. Because she wasn't having any of it.

    "Ready?" Pearl asked Ling Kim expectantly, clasping her hands together enthusiastically.

     But Ling Kim just gazed at me sedately, raised her right eyebrow and wiggled her nose in such a violent, rapid manner that one would think she was auditioning for a role as Samantha Stephens in yet another "Bewitched" remake.

      I grinned awkwardly and met Pearl's gaze. Luckily, we're absolute professionals at properly interpreting exchanged glances.

       Suddenly, Ling Kim leapt up from her little wooden stool that was propped up in front of the television and pumped her fists high into the air as if she was about ready to rock out. And then, she finally spoke.

       "Let's do this thing," she squealed, her beet-red eyes suddenly start to water. Miniscule beads of black and clear liquid oozed out of the corners of her eyes and carved just barely noticeable paths down the far sides of her cheekbones.

         Evidently, Ling Kim was way ahead of us. We had some catching up to do indeed, that was for sure.

         "I never knew she was such a diva," I whispered to Pearl.

         "She's just full of surprises isn't she?" Pearl said, exasperated. She rolled her eyes, shook her head and we began to march out of the room, at long last.

         We skulked down the beaten path that curved around our dorm building which led to the other buildings encompassing it. We stepped in silence as we listened to the gravel crunch beneath the soles of our shoes.

          "Where do you ladies want to smoke? Choose anywhere, this is my treat," Ling Kim blurted out a tad too vociferously.

           "Pipe down!" Pearl stage-whispered.

           "Bitch please, whose out at this time of night? It's like four," Ling snorted, waving her hand dismissively across her chest.

“Be thankful, Pearly Gates, that this fine herb has been provided to us,” I added.

Pearl scowled at me and we continued on our way.

After lurking about trying to tune out any slight and unwelcome noises we happened to detect, we discovered the perfect place to camp out.

“Here we go. Let’s go right over there under those trees. It’s just shady enough for us,” I said, excitedly clapping my hands together while bounding into the air.

“Whoohoo!” Pearl yelped. “Yeah let’s be honest there’d be nowhere else discreet to go. We’d be all out in the open anywhere else.” “And we would be far too susceptible of prey, just asking for some bloodthirsty hunter or huntress to shed our blood and flesh and tear us into a billion miniscule pieces and toss us onto those hot seats forevermore,” Ling Kim murmured, barely audibly, as she dragged her fingertips across her ruddy cheeks.

“You got that right sister friend,” I said, patting her on the back as we continued on our way.

“Just two eccentric peas in a pod, I couldn’t be stunned about it for the life of me,” Pearl muttered from behind us. I could practically feel her eyeballs do a 360 turn.

MORE COMING SOON, OF COURSE!

"Here I Go"

It all started innocently enough. I was about 10 years old and had a tendency to dabble in troublesome antics more frequently than necessary. My mother is a middle child. She has four exceedingly acid-tongued, grudge-holding, gossipy sisters who are always fervently seeking to sink their claws into devastatingly susceptible prey. Naturally, my mother is the mediator of the clan: the one who everyone scurries to when things aren’t going their way.  

So here I was, at my cousin’s graduation party. It was a cousin I didn’t particularly like, so as a result I was rather bitter and grumpy when we first arrived at the towering monstrosity that posed as my Aunt Delilah and Uncle Humphrey’s house. The house they reared my four petulant and shrill girl cousins. I was cynical. I was bored out of my skull. And thus, I began to ardently seek out entertainment. I was in the mood for mayhem, for something uproarious and unforgettable to occur. A tremendous and comical event that I can tailor into the Perfect Anecdote: a timeless story that I will repeat to my friends and relatives (on my father’s side) for many, many years to come. 

To start off, I decided to take a few laps around the colossal backyard, chock-full of roses, daisies, chrysanthemums, dandelions: sprouting up every which way. The vivid flowers encompassed the entire backyard. So I decided to attempt to eavesdrop, observe, and be my thoroughly plucky 10-year-old self. I was on a mission, and so help me, I intended to accomplish it! I couldn’t care less that this goal of mine was utterly quixotic and not to mention, incredibly fatuous but nevertheless, I yearned for entertainment and by golly, I was going to get some entertainment if it was the last thing I did! I drew the conclusion that if I was going to have to suffer through a party sans any humorous anecdotes and spellbinding scandals well, I mind as well be at church! So I guzzled down what was left of my Coke, flung it into the nearest trash bin, and padded across the expertly manicured lawn with a devilish glint in my eyes. 

I stood sulking by the back porch for quite awhile as I simultaneously darted my eyes around the backyard, fanatically seeking prey. (I suppose you could say I resembled my aunts in this aspect.) And then out of the blue, I spotted my two younger brothers and two younger cousins playing an incredibly chaotic game of bean bags. I smirked to myself as I basked in their howling and cackles. Almost instantly, I dashed over there to egg them on and stir up trouble: two things I was more than content to strive for achieving whenever I found whatever situation I was in to be unbearably mind-numbing. 

“Hey you scalawags, what are you up to?” I barked at the four young boys scurrying around, clutching the colorful bean bags rather tightly in their puny, claw-like hands.  

The youngest of the four, Max, the youngest cousin on my mother’s entire side of the family grimaced at me and let out a snort that compelled me to grimace right back at him. Yet surprisingly, he did not lunge at me in a valiant yet irksome attempt to “gouge my eyes out” as my brother Aiden so expertly words it. (Although this is something that Joey does indeed attempt to accomplish to this very day. He is a rather vicious, hot-tempered fellow if you couldn’t tell already. Or at the very least, Max certainly takes pleasure in clasping his little hand over your eyes so tightly that you find yourself shrieking and wriggling like a mentally unhinged person for quite some time.)  

“Lilly, you should play bean bags with us,” my cousin Donavon, (who is Max’s older brother) suggested to me, his eyes drastically widening in anticipation. 

“Well, of course I’d be more than willing to start up a rousing game of bean bags with you guys,” I retorted, my voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Okay, then let’s start playing already,” my brother Otis spat impatiently. 

“Wait a minute,” I told them. “I have a better idea. I’m going to make a bet with you all.” 

It was blatant to me that “bet” was certainly the magic word. I knew I had done well. (This is a little something I’ve picked up over the years living with three boys; and that includes my father.) 

“Yeah, okay! I’m game. So what’s it going to be?” my brother Aiden breathlessly inquired. 

“Well. Let’s see…” I stalled, in an effort to be as exasperating as possible…another forte of mine at my young age. 

“Okay, so here’s the deal: whoever gets the most bean bags up on Aunt Delilah and Uncle Humphrey’s neighbors’ roof wins a big, fantastic prize from yours truly,” I carefully explained to the youngsters. 

Instantly, the young boys ogled the massive stack of brightly colored bean bags that was laying in the grass inches away from them. Simultaneously, a mischievous glimmer flickered in each of their eyes. They didn’t care what this so-called prize was. They probably knew deep down the “prize” that I had dangled as bait for them was most likely nonexistent but nevertheless, these boys were cutthroat.  

Well, that was half the battle, I thought to myself wickedly. 

Soon enough, before I could bellow out, “GO!” the boys had darted over to the bean bags and began to repeatedly attempt to hurl them onto the neighbors’ roof. One by one. That was the way to get it done.  

By then, I was already keeled over from chuckling my head off. I was practically curled up into the fetal position in the corner by my aunt and uncle’s back door. My work here was almost done. 

Yet, of course like amid every one of my disobedient adventures, I had to furtively slink away from my mother who I had caught shooting me a withering stare just moments ago.  

Avoid Angry Mom, I boldly told myself. Avoid Angry Mom and you will succeed. Subtlety was the key.  

Soon enough, I spotted three yellow bean bags innocently perched on the obscenely giant white house next door; courtesy of Max, Otis and Donavon And the next thing I know, Aiden had rapidly chucked the remaining bean bags all at once onto the roof in order to “get the rest down.”  

Traitor, I thought, continuing to wildly cackle to myself. 

Clearly, Aiden’s foolish planned failed miserably, the outcome being every single bean bag being perched in the gutter or on the roof of the swanky house, the “Private Property” sign menacingly tacked onto the fence practically mocking me. 

Well, as you can imagine the night ended very tumultuously. My oldest cousin Ethan ended up scolding the boys until he was blue in the face, wagging his finger like a maniac as he ordered them to sit in a “timeout” until the end of the party. This was following my desperate and less than graceful escape into the basement to watch a movie with the other, more civilized kids. Although, to be fair, the boys got an easy break, given that Ethan was much too busy swigging bottles of Budweiser to even detect that his captives had darted off into the great beyond soon after they had been ordered to sit in a time out. 

Although I had to endure a tongue-lashing in the end, a verbal sparring match with my mother, if you will; it was all worth it. At the end of the night as we pulled out of my aunt and uncle’s driveway to head back down the dirt road, I had the privilege of spotting out of the corner of my eye the mysterious next door neighbor lumbering up a tattered, rickety ladder that was perched on the gutter of the house. The sun was waning, the bushes swaying in the crisp summer breeze, the stars glistening in the pitch-black night sky, as I let out one last hearty giggle.

A variety.

Bury the Ax

Yes it's like that, you're a dog I'm a sly cat

You fall flat, I fly higher than a fruit bat

Not many detect passive aggression

But when you do it it's your own profession

You say you wanna understand 

But honey, you never will

You're on another planet, a entirely new deal

You got cuts up your side, when mine have all healed

I'm as high as the atmosphere, you're so far away from here

We can never see eye to eye

Couldn't have a long stretch even if we tried

It's one one then two and three

You're so damn happy without me

Three's usually a crowd

And four rounds it out

I've got no more doubts

It's like I did something wrong

Why do some bitches like to prolong?

But I've got karma on my side

There's no more tears that I can cry

You stumble on the road as I fucking glide

It's all just a little chapter in my past

'Cuz I've buried that motherfucking ax

I bet ya blame me when it fell apart

Though you were doomed bitch right from the start

I've cleansed myself-Jordan flowing to the Dead Sea

I know all of you probably don't agree

No one bothers to accompany me

So I'll do me, grasp autonomy

That way there's peace, serenity

Sometimes we wanna murder those who we're affixed to

It's ironic that's how the conflicts come through

There's no avoiding when doom arises

And we can try to make some compromises

So many bitches are so unbending

Throw out what they shouldn't be spending

I love how they think that I'm descending

Ha! There's nothing worse than the condescending

The Great Divide

You can't possibly put the blame on me

There's a disconnection

Damage is done, you can't make a correction 

Evil works with such precision

How could they not even envision?

This inevitable collision?

Well yeah, the bomb was atomic

But I make it the best like a stand up comic

Standing tall like a great oak tree

They can't see what it's like to be me

Love them to death, and they want me there 

Too much self-worth to endure death stares

I've got too much flair

Please understand my dears

Bitches love self-segretation

Make it so foreign like I'm lost in translation 

I beat that dead horse, so sick of my orations

Yeah, thank the Lord for my liberation

But oh how it helps me writing these lines

I can only pray that your power declines

Shit hit the fan when we combined 

But it's never okay to undermine

In the end, the high road wins out

Refreshed me is where I'll begin now

Lose Lose/Mixed Signals

Of course I'm crazed, it's all a daze

I'm never right, the fault is mine

I am the minus, you're the plus sign

Please understand, you're not aware

Of the painful subtleties that are really there

You admitted for a moment you saw my side

Then you go back and change your motherfucking mind

I'm a disgrace always to mankind

Should've known that that wasn't true

Should I tell them what I heard from you?

Hard positions, endured derision

Adverse conditions, they won't get my suspicions

Even though they've been verified

Even though they're not just mine

I'll only do what feels good, and what makes me shine

I won't tread near what tears me up

Right now I'm doing me, and I'm raisin' up 

Drama finds me and there it burrows

It feeds off me and it's very thorough  

Don't tell me it's my imagination

I'll cut you-no exaggeration

I'm awaiting the proper condemnation 

I don't need this shit, I've pulled out of that station

Was a matter of time before they pointed their fingers

Where I'm not wanted I ain't gonna linger

Why's that so hard to comprehend?

Gotta leave the lava till my burns mend

I'm a sorceress shielding with voodoo

Don't discount me, I know what I'm going through

Stop bringing it up, I've left it behind

Even what's good is used against me

Benedict Arnold's come to claim me

Sicker Than Everyone

Her hair may be straight but she's a little frizzy

When she moves and sweats I get real dizzy

She screams, she shouts she dances in the mirror

I move really close so I see her clearer

She laughs and makes noises like a child's toy

She may be taken she may have five boys

But she's still spinning in my heart

Everything she does to me is art

When the others pick my flesh till it bleeds

I know in her presence I'm always free

All my expectations she did succeed

There's a party in my skin when she looks at me

I love you in that blouse and those work clothes

If you rocked that sports bra I would never oppose

The v in your neck and the sweat on your chest

The bangs that you toss

You're a motherfucking boss

There's no one like you I can come across

She works the spandex like a Fonda tape

Where are your carpets? Where are your drapes?

You're an acid trip world-my sweet escape

So close and yet so far

I really wanna know who the fuck you are

What makes you tick?

What makes you wanna jump on it?

You work it so hard every day of the week

I crane my fucking neck just to sneak a peek

My friends can mock till the cows come home

But I'm in the church with my thumb in the dome

Yeah, I glide

When I hit my stride

When I find the upside

Disregard demons that preside-Jekyll and Hyde

Yeah, she's got a murderous look

With a body like that she gets me hooked

Uh, and the way you stretch girl

Shake it like an Etch A Sketch girl

I tilted till I was horizon-tall 

Got punched, as if I catcalled

Crazy Fucking Bitch

I'm that crazy motherfucking bitch

They get it all and I don't get shit

They'll never hear my words like prayers

They only see my glitter in disrepair

Blind spot to the sky when I'm all in the air

"I'm missing my swag, do you have a spare?"

Fuck no, of course they come back crawling

And they say what I do is downright appalling

Will the rough times never end?

One thing subsides in my mind

Another issue gets intertwined

And flares up like a rash

You're all trash, I don't mean to be brash

Winning bitches win and losers lose

Maybe that's why I resort to the booze

They do well with whatever they choose 

While my head's in my lap looking at the bruise

The sand settles and we take a deep breath

No self-terrorization-Macbeth

Uh, but are you done yet?

I see you have the best intentions

And my broken voodoo doll ain't helping the tensions

We've long tired out our interventions

I think I'm ready for my ascension

I'm still not sticking to these conventions

Shove all else out-spring cleaning

Checking out is the way that I'm leaning

Chaotic bullshit-what is the meaning?

I'm got my own motherfucking lexicon

Hence why they don't ever turn my shit on

Why do the ones you love treat you like litter?

Do I let 'em? Is that why I'm bitter?

Well, I ain't nothing more than a jobless vamp

Am I just rolling down a downward ramp?

If I have to deal with you I'll need a hit from that peace

Been searching for years, so where's my missing piece? 

Questions, answers, come humor me

Silence, silence, it's a tumor to me

Well, I'm just that bird sitting in that gum tree

Everything I say is asinine

Everything I do is out of line

Where is my treasure that I ought to find?

Yeah, yeah ya better start liking moi

'Can I get a hurrah/'Cuz I'm far from bourgeois

I'm in a class of my own

When my light is shone

Soaring at the dome's ceilings

While you're at the pew kneeling

I'm a spiritualist, but I didn't know this feeling

Now clocks aren't dripping like Salvador Dali

Got through the mountain, I amended that folly

So work that ass, it's juicy like a peach

Bring it down low, it's just out of reach

Fit, tight perfect and round

In those tight pants you're gonna astound

Every single motherfucker whose walking behind 

That thick behind

You'd rub that shit if you're in the right mind

Uh yeah anything is possible

Now you want back in on this shit

Well I'm game for it

I'd never write anyone off

The jealous gonna hate

Draw back, then want back and initiate