Write No Cliches ... Pull No Punches ... And Keep Going All Night

Wendy Grimsley's Writing for August 2008

Writing

the motion in the eye is zero point chaos

there are some clouds without silver linings
that rush in and swallow the hallucination of blue skies
washing the horizon into a flat world
where we look through a veil like TV static

twenty minutes or so and they go like they came
with the violence of an orgasm and twisted metal
throwing the world into a panic of umbrellas and
doorway queues to get to cars
that will bring us all home safe (in theory)

but the sirens scream like the sound of evolutio…

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Posted by Wendy Grimsley on August 30th, 2008 at 11:41pm — 1 Comment

thrive

you put it all away
such childish things
like wedding rings and broken toys

your disappointment fills the room like fog
and they suffocate

and you are sitting on that imaginary button
but when it detonates like
in some 90's grunge-rock ballad
that world still remains, the people remain

but you no longer exist, exodus

put the food out and starve to spite life
sustain the bitterness to spite the taste
kiss to spite the lie; the re…

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Posted by Wendy Grimsley on August 17th, 2008 at 9:01am — No Comments

how's tricks

you put on and put up
little trinkets like fish hooks
and nothing nibbles or bites

i'd invite you into my house
walk you around that room
inside his skull
and show you where the dark spots
are all patched up
with tree frogs and bed-time stories

so that you could heal

you feel the need to feed the page
playing stage acts
thinking this illusion confuses the man
like fishnets could ever catch a keeper

Posted by Wendy Grimsley on August 12th, 2008 at 1:32am — 1 Comment

sin tax

back when sages played connect-the-dots
to create your revelations you were
plagiarizing some creation that made
a soul from mass media to define your
spirit with an encyclopedia of
rhyme-cunning and a shitty photocopier

Posted by Wendy Grimsley on August 12th, 2008 at 1:30am — No Comments

you in my hands

you reach me
teach me the strum of silence
and i lay here pillow heavy
screaming for the energy
that rages in the awakening

there's something in the brush
in the touch and the look
that says hunger is a fire
and this grip is oxygen

kneading the flesh
needing the flesh
keyed into the flesh-spirit connection
we hail god like a taxicab
in an unrehearsed motion
something natural like
my devotion to your satisfaction
has me sc…

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Posted by Wendy Grimsley on August 4th, 2008 at 12:48am — No Comments

incensed

i'm very serious;
literal--
i've been reading too much
about how you were
a footfall away from destiny

but damn if your hands didn't
mark me just as deeply
as that song you sang
a capella through the receiver

a non-believer
you left her
tattered in her
inhibited trappings

you were no girl's big brother
you've always been some
unrequited lover
tugging the skin of your needs
like a junkie and
then giving hail…