amphibi.us

Sam tossed and turned in bed, sweat pouring out of red, irritated patches of mostly pale skin. The covers had been tossed away in the heat, pulled close in the cold, and drenched with sickly smelling perspiration. The designer sheets were ruined. God, he needed it. How long had it been? A few days already? No, hours. Minutes were now killing him. Something had to be done. Cold turkey was too hard.

That sticky black tar. It spoke in dreams, wrapping his head in a sweet stink of want. He flung himself out of bed, rid his stomach of another mouthful of bile at the door, and collapsed next to his shoes. Finding socks proved too difficult, so he just pulled on some brand new Reeboks to rub irritatingly against his naked feet, and found a shirt.

Sam stumbled out the door, pulling on a fresh Nike shirt and clutched himself awkwardly down the driveway. New Lexus. His wetness stained the leather seats as another bout of cold sweats began. His fingers found their way down underneath the seat, gently pulling at the trigger of a handgun. He made sure it was there with him twice more before shoving the car into gear. He pulled out in reverse, scattering the poor in the street. Leaving them to continue digging through his garbage, Sam sped off down the alley in search of oil. Maybe those Arabs downtown had a few million more barrels.

© Shannon Peil, 2009

[others]

My body is hungry.

Hungry for the rich and delicate scouring of love.

Let me explain:
Love in its most enriching and powerful form
is hot
And dirty and creates this clenching of the teeth
This welling up of strength
And weakness
Two sides of the same coin,
reflected dimly but only because the brilliance is blinding.

Love is the sun.
It scorches the forest of my heart.
Filling it with such bright and powerful burning
Heat so intense it sublimates the surface
Heat so intense that my forest is swollen and burning

Love hurts because when it is gone,
the scorched surface blinks back wildly
feeling its own nakedness against the harshness of the world.

All the limbs which my forest had grown,
Which are the little niches and secret grottos of me
have been burnt away to reveal the core of me
And that core is sensitive.

When the burning, reaving, desecrating magic is gone
The body of my forest is without the superficial foliage which makes me
the me that I was before.
It scars the forest so that the forest can grow
Born again, new and more hungry for life than ever

I am hungry for the burning away of my superficialities.
I am hungry for the sight of my naked ground floor.
I am hungry for the growth which one woman can give me.
And I am hungry to give her growth.

I am hungry to make those lips between her thighs weep those delicious tears
I am hungry to make her quiver with anticipation while I revel
in the glorious privations of the sublimely unrestricted woman which begs to be plundered
Hungry to worship her in every sense.

I am hungry to fuck her mind senselessly free of inhibitions towards me.
I am hungry to make her FEEL worshiped, above all.

There is only one way to unleash the goddess inside her,
And that is to worship her unconditionally
When you fuck her mind senseless,
The gates are free to swing open
And this magnificent creature strides free of her self-conscious incarceration
She glides forward, smashing the doors wide open
Demanding her due.

She clutches me close to her, requiring of me that I do not stop
I must carry her, if I am up to the task, up to the peaks
Which she is insatiably hungry to visit.
I will know I have delivered her to the sunset faces of her high seat
in the mountains, when she shivers and quakes beneath my touch.

Somehow, I am the only one of the two of us who knows the way.
She can take herself high without me,
But never so high as she can be propelled by my voracious praying
at her altar.

I want to clench my teeth at her weight on my shoulders
I want to speak sweet nothings in the tongue of flicks and strokes to her temple door
I will take the key between my lips and move it so that she grinds open
Ecstatic and lost to the prayer

I must learn this prayer, as a man
The more perfectly I can recite the correct prayer in the correct time at the correct place
The more worshipful she will know me to be.
The more worthy I might be to receive the gifts she may choose to give me
Beyond those gates spread wide

That I might be allowed to begin scouring away the limbs and foliage of her forest
To see her glorious ground floor
So I can scar her forest just so, so it can grow
And be stronger and more hungry for life than ever.

In this way, my prayers will awaken the goddess in her,
And she will walk that bald forest once again,
Bathing in the relentless passion of my sun
Feeling the glorious harshness of the world

Each excruciating scratch, every sublime sound
The exquisite tastes, smells and sights…
So that she can, in turn, begin her prayers
To the mother of goddesses

Because after all…
Love demands her due.
And she is not one to be refused.

© Dhāma, 2009

[others]

sittin’ at home
listnin’ to hip-hop
a Tribe Called Quest
and a little bit of Deltron
reciting their words
makin’ my lips hot
the friction of speech
makes my mind like a
time-bomb

then i get the itch to
write down my feelings
in a rhythmical stride
without mangling meanings
each word confides
to you and reveals things
secrets i keep
and dreams i am dreaming

and maybe make lyrical
my life in this cranium
show how hysterical
my mind creates the space i’m in
chaos my audience, and
i’m entertainin’ ‘em
throwing down hooks
switch fast
then replacing them.

my rhymes so sweet, they’re a treat, but
you’ll get diabetes
when i speak, i strengthen the weak
i
make warring nations sign treaties
my lines are emotive
my words so commodious
when i unload my wit i
unload all things annoying us
destroying us
the monsters and mists
the masters employing us

sittin’ at home
listnin’ to hip-hop
a Tribe Called Quest
and a little bit of Deltron
reciting their words
makin’ my lips hot
the friction of speech
makes my mind like a
time-bomb

wonder what is in my mind that has me wondering
why i think, what makes me tick
why i am existing, experiencing
it think therefor i am i think
but i still think it’s a mystery
illuminating nothing
nothing needs illuminating
thinking too hard can get so
intimidating
that’s why so many don’t think
they’re just copying me, aping me,
imitating.

of course i find it irritating, but
i get beyond it
there isn’t enough room in this life to
hang on to it

and what my purpose here is
to inspire others anyway

my purpose here is
to inspire others anyway

sittin’ at home
listnin’ to hip-hop
a Tribe Called Quest
and a little bit of Deltron
reciting their words
makin’ my lips hot
the friction of speech
makes my mind like a
time-bomb

© Stuart Mizrahi, 2009

[others]

You looked at me as if

I had just kicked a puppy

Like I had done something so awful

To something that truly didn’t deserve it.

But it was barking so loud.

© Shannon Peil, 2009

[others]

Soft lips hold secrets
Crystal blue eyes hold lies
Golden blonde hair strands hold love

Your long eyelashes hold morals
Your tan lines hold needs

If I hold the hand that feeds
Won’t the bounty be plenty?

As the candle burns,
The wick lets my thoughts digress
You douse yourself in the wax of romance novels
Just to let the true thing let you down
Used condoms in the trash
From the boy whole stole your heart
Last night
And returned it at sunrise
With a only a small chunk missing

When the circus began
I knew you couldn’t juggle
Him and I
In one act
Your legs wouldn’t be able to open enough
On the trapeze for the both of us

The sex outweighs the cons
But who tares the scales of justice
In the court of lust and love

© Brittany Alverson, 2009

[others]