So she got ready in her Sunday best

  With a sneaky smile on her face because

  No one knew about her panty-less protest

  It felt so dirty in a way, it felt so wrong

  Sitting in church without even a thong

  Like something out of some hip-hop song

  A panty-less protest only known to two

  A panty-less protest between God and you

  Knowing nothing is there between the pew

  And your naked bum except for the thin

  Material of your skirt as you wonder when

  You’ll get caught, if ever at all, and if not then

  You’ll be here next week protesting yet again

  August 27, 2003

  Manchester, NH

  Back in May I wrote the first half of this in Line Ideas and never ended up finishing it until now. The funny thing is that as I read this poem I can totally tell where I stopped writing before and where I started writing tonight. It just flows a little differently. This is based on a true story that a friend told me.

  Indie Anna

  Indie Anna

  I thought I came up with

  Something original

  Something different

  A sorta play on words

  A sorta something else

  Kinda neat in a way

  Kinda punny too

  Kinda funny how

  When I typed the phrase

  Into a search engine

  On the Internet I got

  Hundreds of hits

  Of people

  Of magazines

  Of so many

  Different things

  Which makes me

  Sit back and think

  Has every idea

  I come up with

  Been done before?

  Am I an unbeknownst

  Regurgitating media whore?

  Is everything as taken

  And used as Indie Anna?

  I’d like to think that

  I can come up with a few

  Original ideas that are

  Solely my own

  I’m trying to

  Remain positive here

  So please humor me

  July 1, 2003

  Manchester, NH

  Last week I thought I had coined this neat phrase, “Indie Anna”. I was all happy about it and put it into Line Ideas. Then tonight, I typed it into Google and got over 350+ responses. It got me thinking, what if everything I’ve come up with on my own is just inadvertently coping something else? That ended up bothering me since I tend to be a very creative person.

  Perfect Loaf

  Semi-sleeping cat

  There lying down

  On the couch behind me

  Eyes closed paws tucked

  Tail under body loafed

  Like the perfect loaf

  Of bread with a head

  Stuck there on top

  Like an afterthought

  Like the perfect loaf

  That she is

  That she usually isn’t

  But tonight for once

  She is

  August 27, 2003

  Manchester, NH

  Zoe (my cat) is not a perfect loaf right now (pretty darn close if it weren’t for her paws being a little too sloppy), but she was last week when I wrote the phrase “prefect loaf” in Line Ideas. I coined this phrase a few years ago when I owned a cat (Tofey) that did a perfect loaf every time he hunkered down.

  Blurry Until the Frames

  Blurry until the frames

  Are reached and fumbled for

  Found, and come into play

  Lying, staring at the ceiling

  Knowing seeing is helping

  Thinking wondering what

  Interesting things I’ll be doing

  During the length of today

  February 29, 2004

  Manchester, NH

  Leaving the Lasting Happy

  The beautiful aroma

  Continues into the sip

  Fills, swirls, down

  Leaving the lasting happy

  In my mouth

  In my memory

  It won’t be forgotten soon

  February 28, 2004

  Manchester, NH

  Thinking back to the glass of Abbaye des Rocs Grand Cru, a Belgian Strong Ale, I had last night.

  Pumpkin Ale

  Pumpkin ale in an

  Unassuming bottle

  Brown with a pumpkin

  Pictured on the label

  Don’t forget the cute

  Smutty seal who sells

  Good stuff and tells

  Me to get drinking

  Pours clearish golden

  Like some kind of Molson

  But the aroma tells me

  Otherwise that there’s no

  Compromise in drawing

  Conclusions between the two

  As the color in the glass

  Kicks everything’s ass

  Thin head on an orangey amber

  Spicy aroma that does not waver

  I tip the glass towards me to taste

  And I’m taken to some other place

  Riding the river of a tart pumpkin

  A happy smile slides across my face

  Sip again because it’s really something

  Feels like the colors of fall are filling

  Are twisting are burning in my mouth

  Vibrant colors brought on by spilling

  Spices something entices me to have

  To want summer to end immediately

  And plunge headfirst into autumn

  And swaddle myself in the crispness

  Of fall of it all and before I knew it

  So suddenly

  I saw my glass and my bottle

  Were both empty

  Thanking God I’ve got five more

  I crack into another

  Tip and pour

  And start the ride all over

  September 11, 2003

  Manchester, NH

  It’s not often that beer inspires poetry, but the Pumpkin Ale, by the Smuttynose Brewing Company, is some awesome stuff.

  Quotes Speak Volumes

  The quotes speak volumes

  More so than the words

  Found in between them

  The images implied

  Burning so vividly

  In my closed eyes

  Screaming so loudly

  In my fragile mind

  Destroying the peace

  Shattering the quiet

  I once counted on

  I once relied on

  Leaving me in pieces

  The unassuming punctuation

  The volumes spoken

  The mess left behind

  July 29, 2003

  Manchester, NH

  The first three lines of this were living in Line Ideas for a couple of weeks. Reading them in conjunction to hearing the Cat Power song “Evolution”, followed by “Girl” by Tori Amos, just made the rest of the poem flow from those three lines. I like the poems like this, in that I never come out and say what’s going on. You just have to assume and infer on your own. It’s just more cerebral that way.

  Mere Words

  An artist on the keyboard

  Eyes shut, worlds flowing

  Freely so freely like water

  Flowing fast through the fingers

  With the light clicky-clack

  Of the pads on the attack

  Of the words contrasting

  In cool black against the white

  Of the piercing burning screen

  Music raging in the background

  Mind racing fast to understand

  Making the mind want to scream

  With the images that I’ve seen

  Torching my mind

  Twisting in time

  Delving yet again

  Wanting to send

  This to a friend

  Make minds bend
/>
  When they see this

  When they read this

  Hard and fast without stopping

  Trying to catch up to the typing

  But not succeeding

  And not believing

  In the things but can’t stop

  As they continue the assault

  Not worrying about results

  Imagery laying everything

  To waste

  With haste

  Love that taste

  When mere words

  Reshape your reality

  October 25, 2003

  Manchester, NH

  Pure randomness built around a vague topic.

  Hearse on Fire

  Hearse on fire

  Nothing is more dire

  Can’t imagine what it’s like

  To be the passenger

  To have to die again

  To suffer two deaths

  Unbeknownst to the family

  Who wanted him to be buried

  He’s at the side of the highway

  Slowly getting cremated

  Hearse on fire

  Life’s gone haywire

  The procession’s stopped

  The family’s all dropped

  Crying on the blacktop

  Driver waving like an umpire

  Knowing he’s going to get fired

  Worse than the darkest satire

  This just isn’t right

  I won’t be able to sleep tonight

  August 26, 2002

  Chelsea, MA

  Driving home from work (I-93 South), I saw a hearse engulfed in flames on the north-bound side. It’s just one of those things no one should ever have to think about.

  Keeping It G

  Keeping it G

  Or at least

  Trying to be

  Yet the words

  And the subject

  Tips decidedly

  And deliciously

  Towards X

  Leaning way over to

  Touching on

  All things sex

  As often we tend to do

  Without rhyme

  Or any real reason

  Living every season

  Under the sign

  So mysterious

  So ambiguous

  Yet for some reason

  It defines our generation

  December 30, 2003

  Bay Point, CA

  I was watching TV with friends and we paused on Emeril for a few minutes. He was about to tell a story, but then said he needed to keep it G (as in G-rated). I just took that phrase and went with it.

  On

  Catalyst

  The air hangs thick

  With unbearable tension

  Permeating the situation

  Unexpressed feelings

  Undeniable wanting

  Our full eyes lingering

  Dangerously too long

  Followed by the quickening

  Of our hearts when caught

  All explosive situations

  Need a catalyst

  To detonate

  The feelings

  To make

  The passion

  Resonate

  A light breathy kiss

  On the back of a bare

  Unsuspecting neck

  Sending shivers down

  Her eyes closed

  Her mouth open

  Sharp breath in

  Half in surprise

  Half in ecstasy

  Tension broken

  She spins around

  Capturing me

  No words spoken

  None are needed

  Yet still speaking

  Unabridged volumes

  With our hungering

  And longing touch

  As we yield to nothing

  Absolutely nothing at all

  January 31, 2004

  Andover, MA

  I was thinking about the past while dreaming about the future.

  Appetizers for the Entrée

  Your fluent tongue

  Licking the length

  The lustful look of

  Your dark, penetrating eyes

  Hungry for more

  Hungry for me

  You move into position

  Your mouth working

  Maddening moaning magic

  I kiss your lips

  Simultaneously

  Returning the favor

  Appetizers for the entrée

  It’s more than fine with me

  It’s a lot of fun with a friend

  Appetizers for the entrée

  It’s more than fine with me

  We both come to the same end

  Sometimes like ninety six

  Oops sorry about that

  Sometimes I’m dyslexic

  Even with nothing so drastic

  The lips, the tongue, the love

  Can turn each other spastic

  No need for the main course

  So put that back in the drawer

  Not tonight at least my dear

  Just you, our passionate desire

  And we’ll stuff ourselves silly

  Having nothing but appetizers

  Appetizers for the entrée

  It’s more than fine with me

  It’s a lot of fun with a friend

  Appetizers for the entrée

  It’s more than fine with me

  We both come to the same end

  September 17, 2002

  Chelsea, MA

  Eyes Closed

  Eyes closed

  Yet we see all

  Through our skin

  Conducting the heat

  Hearts beating

  Faster than techno

  Mouth open

  Letting out the sounds

  Letting in each other

  Lips lingeringly tracing

  Encirclingly teasing

  Constantly moving

  Anticipation burning

  Passion flowing

  Instead of blood

  Feeding the brain

  Causing the moan

  Twisting around

  Turning across

  Reaching over

  Resonating through

  Wrapping emotions

  Everyway is heavenly

  Positions so perfectly

  Conducting the writhingly

  Naked obsessions of us

  Feeling nothing but

  Sheer candlelit lust

  October 22, 2003

  Manchester, NH

  If I can dream about it, I can write about it.

  Nameless Face

  Dreams so vivid so real

  How can they not be

  Each touch

  Every kiss

  Seems so much

  More than a dream

  Electricity in the slightest contact

  Heart racing when our eyes connect

  The heat of her skin in my hands

  Fell in love with a nameless face

  For a few minutes at least

  She’s just as real as me

  Someday I hope to wake and see

  Her sharing my pillow

  And I’ll finally know

  The name behind the dream

  January 10, 2004

  Andover, MA

  I had an extremely long, very vivid dream about a woman. It felt so wonderful because it felt exactly like I was kissing someone…I could feel the exciting shiver of electricity jolt through me when her hand touched mine and when we kissed. It was so mindblowingly wow there was no way to even remotely capture the feelings or the moment properly with this.

  Of Your Wonderful Perfection

  Gentle breeze edging through

  Softly rustling the curtains

  Of the room where you and I

  Are lying, feeling the breeze

  Tickling our naked knees

  Hair matchingly tousled

  Lightly waiving above

/>   Exhausted perma-smiles

  The tippy tips of my fingers

  Mindlessly tracing the smooth

  Delicate curves and features

  Of your wonderful perfection

  In this moment, minutes last hours

  And I’m cherishing each second

  As the shadows slide across us

  Watching the softening light change

  The dynamics of your landscape

  Until the only visible things

  Are the two smiles in the dark

  Which melt into one

  February 28, 2004

  Manchester, NH

  The first four lines of this have been in Line Ideas since the spring of 2003. Heh, I guess I’m feeling overly hopeful tonight.

  Forever Affected

  Moonlight twinkles

  On the keys

  As I turn off the motor

  And we sit in silence

  For a moment

  As our eyes adjust to the light

  Or lack thereof

  The small clearing

  Beyond the windshield

  Is full of shadows

  And darkness

  That would have scared us

  When we were children

  But we’re no longer children

  Despite what our parents think

  We’ll prove them wrong

  Before the end of the night

  We certainly will

  And while we might be afraid

  It has nothing to do with

  Out there

  It has everything to do with

  In here

  The nervous anticipation

  Fills the car like a poison gas

  Quickening our breath

  Hastening our heart

  Our eyes finally meet

  And we slip and trip

  Into each other’s soul

  Submerging

  And splashing

  In the water

  Of a thousand

  No a million

  Way more than that

  New emotions

  Hopelessly lost

  In each other’s eyes

  As we’re

  Forever affected

  By this moment

  Never to return

  To normal lives

  Barely aware

  Of how the body feels

  Not really conscious

  Of anything else

  Since we’re

  Still lost in the gaze

  Hopelessly lost

  In each other

  Not aware

  Everything swirling

  In the foggy peripheral

  As we drew closer

  Then the world sparked

  Amazingly brilliant

  Light energy everything

  All of the emotions

  We were awashed in

  Turned electric fire

  As we touched

  All inhibitions gone

  Nothing nothing nothing

  But the tortuous passion

  And everything we felt

  Everything we needed

  All that we wanted

  Yearned for

  Craved

  All here

  And more than we

  Could ever hope

  To comprehend

  Beyond understanding

  But so wondrous

  And our bodies

  Naturally followed suit

  Saying it was just

  Two teenagers parking

  Would be akin