Poetry – Page 28 – Soapbox Artist

waiting on decency

August 19, 2009 by jgtaylor

this kindness is as impure as my desires; to oft a ‘no’ is heard where acceptance is required. requited? No… they stream in front of the window where I stoke loneliness with great swings of my arms and I won’t speak to them; their garbled tongue grinds ears to pulp, their whore pussies sap lives … Read morewaiting on decency

Sometimes, all a girl gots is her fuck

August 1, 2009 by jgtaylor

I’d met him at the bar, or just outside it – a dive in DC where the powerful were not: just those of us dead inside. He’d told me he was a pimp, but i didn’t see any of his whores. The conversation was muddled and muted, when he finally said, “Sometimes, all a girl … Read moreSometimes, all a girl gots is her fuck

why do i bother?

August 1, 2009 by jgtaylor

She says “He’s not good looking”, to her girlfriend, then tells me it’s not the same as ugly. she says I’ve got a small cock and that I sweat too much – I drip when we fuck. She gets annoyed in the morning when I probe her cunt with my semi-hard cock; most of the … Read morewhy do i bother?

what could have been, was.

July 7, 2009 by jgtaylor

all the possible futures i could never allow myself to imagine, are now dreams you’ve lived without me. cold comatose with unlimited stimuli leaves me sweaty in bed coughing, wheezing, wishing for the doldrums of your life. And how oft have I said, “I need wind!” to a heart crumbling in my pale breeze, left … Read morewhat could have been, was.

heritics on Sunday

May 31, 2009 by jgtaylor

sunday grey the summer’s day with violet roll overs in dreams dreams dreams. can’t someone say what all this means? And this coincidence? will I get off this fence and decide if gifts are given or received: the full and empty hand are what the eyes perceived. she always wants a future that she can … Read moreheritics on Sunday

wasted efforts

May 14, 2009 by jgtaylor

dip 2, don’t call back somewhere, i’ve got a shack to lie in: there’s a sofa sleeping behind me I woke up. drunk dial better written than done: in my head, it’s a gun that determines shicksal – always when I’m 88. i couldn’t stay straight so went down and gave it try; that dentist … Read morewasted efforts

Italian Easter

May 12, 2009 by jgtaylor

buried under winters frost, dreams gone and dreams lost. I imagined her strong, black hair, green eyes; I imagined she would sing great lullabies; I imagined she was quick, a sharp tongued wit; I imagined her paintings, her poems and her dance; I imagined we would live in France. she was to be the best … Read moreItalian Easter

Clues

May 11, 2009 by jgtaylor

“At the bottom of this bottle,” i said, tilting it full throttle down my throat, down my throat – a whisper in my ear begging to choke; to find release in anesthetic, let the time pass mechanic each swish of the second hand; oh how that run was grand.

sketch book

April 19, 2009 by jgtaylor

i got a new tablet that I can draw on. I’ve decided to make a digital sketch book. Publicly weird.well – i wanna f ya.it’s my love life.no worries – that was fat boy slim.

Facets of Moral Evil

April 17, 2009 by jgtaylor

New Interrogation Details Emerge
I can not cry for a Humanity that would hold its own in bondage, servitude, in Animal Cruelty. These are not my countrymen, not children of my Mother’s land. I am not the son of Love, no – I desire their suffering, their anguish. And these, they are without human conscience – a dog knows when to hold its tail between its legs; These men and women are the devil we have been told of in churches and from Presidential Pulpits.
I understand those who would defend a new president, one who broke the boundaries of color – but I also remember a King who said, “An injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” This is none other than a glaring injustice, and it’s continued existence, left to fester and rot, will destroy the body of our nation as a cancer riddles the body of its victim.