Please Help

Tuesday, Apr. 23, 2002 ~ 11:48 PM

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Allrighty� I have narrowed the search down to these five poems. What I would most appreciate now is for ya�ll to roll them around in your mouths and see which ones you like the best. The two with the highest votes will be the ones that I take to my audition on Saturday.

Unfortunately I have nothing but my whole-hearted gratitude and adoration to reward you with for your help.

Oh! And cookies! I will eat cookies in your honor!

Here goes nothing:

Last night
I went roof jumping.
And the star kissed tips
of New York City burned
as the blazing boy
bent the heavens to
touch the moonlight-smooth of her skin.
And looking down
from my lofty perch,
I watched as they
with the cosmos in their mouths
laughed
supernova.

�

There is a street in New York
where the chalk flowers on the sidewalk
stretch as long as my midsummer shadows.
And when it rains,
a little girl in the green shoes points
to them and says,
�These are my friends and they are forever.�
And I watch as the rain splashes
around her rooted little feet
and her sprouted little flowers
and she says,
�They are forever because they are magic.�
And she takes my hand
and as we watch the flowers grow
she says,
�Do you know what magic is little girl?�
I shake my head, �No�
and she says,
�Well neither do I. But when I asked my Daddy,
he said it was permanent.�
Two pairs of neat little feet
firmly rooted on rain splashed sidewalks
trace the inedible buds of New York City blossoms.
And then,
�Do you know what permanent means?�
And I shake my head, �Yes.�
And I look into her small round garden eyes
and say,
�Permanent means beautiful.�

�

Breathless,
I have placed my desires
in the base of her neck,
and I will kiss her until they bleed
themselves back into me.
I fit curved in the cure of her hand
the illness of my lips,
feverish as she passes her breath over me.
I would smite the sun
to be still borne in her smile;
and drink her laughter like nectar:
goingdowngoingdowngoingdown
like the sweetness of the memory
of my fingers lingering in her hair.
There, here and everywhere
I taste her.
And I wait with baited breath,
less than what she is worth,
to place my lips
where the pit of my desire blooms.

�

Woman, I lie before you
canvas tight;
needing strokes that leave the colours
of desire on taut skin.
Stain me until I rise to the surface like oil
and shimmer beneathe your touch.
I long to be the Mona Lisa of your mouth.
The mystery behind my smile is your kiss.
The masterpiece is the mingled bliss of lips and tongue.
Palette-like,
I am so many shades begging to be under your thumb.
Use me to make a portrait of passion.
In this room a canopied gallery for the
uninhibited exhibition
of Me hued in You.
We make art here.

�

I don't want to wake up
and leave you twisted
in the sheets of my dreams.
I want to rise and shine;
sun follow fingers follow sun
lighting on honey-hued ladyscape.
I want morning to find me
fitted in your mouth;
dancing in the new day
the way you blaze (supernova)
in my dreams at night.

.
.
.
.

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Now Shake it all about!

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