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Poems by Sunmaster14

Get Knotted

This ribbon ties itself

Like someone else's bow

I know

Which end will bend

And then

Will twist and turn

Threaded around itself

Like choking

Someone else

Its ends will cross

And fold I'm told

And tuck and weave

This self-same-cord

Is bent beneath its

Many folds

It fits itself between


Until it holds

Not just a join

To keep

Its estranged ends


But something precious

Interwoven from the start

This given gift

Creates the rift

That leads below

It opens up

Her clothing

To the magic show

Three knocks the whore

Fate taps the door

And does her dance

The curtain rises

And we see her

In her pants

Or are they his

As costume sometimes is

Within the play

This way

Device is worn

Just dressed a different way

Her body's heady

And is ready

For his part

She wants it badly

And will gladly

Make a start

Right from the heart

Portrays the art

She's gaining pace

We see the actions

Of both factions

In her face

We almost miss

The whip-like kiss

A backward slash

Across her gash

The red abyss

And falling lash

Amidst the sighs

She twists the top

If it unties

How many eyes

Will pop

And drop

Between her legs

It's how she begs

She sucks them up

And leaves no dregs

Not just a tease

She's quick to please

The gift moves faster

Will outlast her


Passed her

Through the knees

A squeeze

A squirm

The knot is still quite firm

While back inside

Stretched nice and wide

Her breath is caught

Her tongue is tied

Just turn and pout

She'd like to dish

It out

The tightened gauze

Is working 'cause

It makes her want to shout

And scream

This wasn't in her scene

The stocking

Isn't shocking

Its the knotting

That's obscene

By Sunmaster14

The poem is self explanatory

Point of View

I am the distant

To all I am suspect

By some I am inspect

To me they are prospects

In truth I am fashioned

Though well-worn and fitted

Eventually pitted

Their sights are set high

Above me there's another

In me is her brother

Who's sister

She weeps for he sleeps and is mottled

As fruits that are bottled

He's well sealed inside

I am the custom

As they are my custom

They lavish my hide

And bury my pride

To the solitude of a silent companion

Us two alone wait the subtle finale

As changes to him

Invoke changes in me

I see that he breaks down

And loses his temper

Along with his colour, his hair and his skin

His features are drawn and his guise

Pretty thin

I see all his bones they are white

And they're clean

Why here

Not external where they should have been?

And then comes my time

When I buckle and splinter

With wear and decay

And mix with my contents

to colour the clay

Though my form is soon lost

And my function deleted

A eulogy lingers above

Not just a stone to my contents entombed

But a plaque of remembrance

To mark off our passing

A place of dissolution

Where we rest in pieces

By Sunmaster14

The poem is about a coffin

In Its Shadows

Sta sta epping stonez

Zin the wa wa ater,

Tez is offa-etin

Deepez sez se withit

Sha sha adows init.

Crawla up'n out-a

Ba ba ankez grasswith,

In the shad-a-adows

Withez clotha wettez

Andon hair bedraggled.

So sa it in sunlit

Sweating withis winda

Bellow rund your face-a.

End a leavez treeza

Felling and their friendez

To a rotting grounded.

Once it dryzez you are

With the clothez dampen,

Yetin not as wringing

Nor as drippez downing

But just moisten chilly

Endez heavy init.

Startout onez way your

Pa pa astez willows.

Bankez longsince hinde you

Sees there mountain from you

So setout to climbit.

Reaches upon shoulder

Draggez logon boulders.

Sooning gettez top near

And the rockis moisten,

Whichen issa-lippery

So some cau-zin worry.

Su su ummit reached

Breathez staken deeper

Andez eyezez saliva

Within glisten tearsez.

For look downez onto

Longer and much farther,

Backez to the banker

And the shadowed river

Whence zad comez from its.

Lookon bracken to it

Rests in willowed blankets.

Cannot live withouts it

Mustez hurry backen

In the birthing place-it.

Salippez over rocken

Climbez offen shoulder.

Coming faster to-en footez

Wherez meadow stretches

Andin grasses soften.

Sa sa eeing greening

To-en river weening.

Hears it trickle offa

Andez rounder smoothen

Rockez softer init.

Here is zin-it comfort

An dez happy fors it.

Now from sta sta epping

Stonez inez warmer waters,

Lookez back up mountain

Inits clouder shadows

Hidden deep-in blanket

And a shivers comes it

And is scaredez from it.

By Sunmaster14

The popem is about insecurity.
The narrator is the stream itself. To sate its own curiosity it travels upstream to its source. Once there it
reels in fear at the enormity of the world and hurries back hence it came, from where it, once more, regards
its mountain source and is scared.

I tried to capture the internal monologue of the stream as it babbled to itself.

I'll Give You 'Love'

Bugger off
The old man said
I've had enough
You can all
Drop dead
I'll give you 'hi'
And 'how are you?'
'It looks like rain'
Don't make me spew
Don't make me
Have to say
To you
It's different now
Damn-fangled things
Technology -
No good it brings
In my day it
Was not like this
My prostate makes
It hard to piss
Jesus Christ
I fought the war
I did my time
I fixed that door
I had it tough
I made it through
I do not get
To eat like you
My dentures make it
Hard to chew
So keep away
Just live your life
Don't call me that
You're not my wife
The hell you are
And devil too
Come near me and
I'll flatten you

By Sunmaster14

It's about the tragedy of senile dementia

Mr. Xanax

while leaving

as he takes his coat

he tries to grab it

by the throat

the backward lean

a forgone art

betrays his thinking

from the start

but is this thought

the one he thinks

the one on which

his premise sinks

that makes him move

to grab his stuff

to crease a collar

rip a cuff

or is it just

his point of view

a vista vaster than is true

the way his arms flail

all about

the coat-rack rips

it's tongue straight out

a squeezing hole

a heavy weight

the in and out

it's not too late

the wearing down

the gnashing grin

he takes his arm

and rams it in

straight through the hole

and out the back

the right one's ready

the left is slack

as misdemeanour

mister nice

he walked in once

but came in twice

and now he's here

he has to go

but he'll be back

you all should know

By Sunmaster14

Xanax is a prescription drug that targets anxiety. It is so effective that most who are prescribed the drug have great difficulty getting off it. This is what makes it insidious. When you stop taking the drug anxiety overwhelms you and confusion reigns.

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Biographical sketch: Male, living in Sydney Australia

Sunmaster14 recommends:

Unweaving The Rainbow by Richard Dawkins

Reason: Keats accused Newton of destroying the poetry of the rainbow by explaining the origin of its colours. Dawkins shows how an understanding of science inspires the imagination and enhances the wonder of the world.

Recommendations for writers:

Standing under
looking up
A different perspective


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