Mao’s white page
Category: Writing and Poetry

I posted, then removed this earlier this year.  Scroll down for my newer stuff.

Mao's white page

Can I but help to think?
no gesture to
reflect, lie, come back to my home
and subside, subside
square my corner is, and forsaken
dropped from heaven

peeled and laid waste in a mound

shall I die shall I run shall I wonder
spiritual, fucked on a rug by an open flame and silly little words
gone again, born deaf, I am born green
like Mao's white page
and in love

I imagined summer

humid, street sweet your lips

bleed into the tropics, where me and I

drift, drift on you

where languor is sex and religion

candy-licking pheromone drug lord virgins

naked twilight and the steam, samba step step

shoulder tense on red brick, salt-sweat thigh

screaming thigh, ready

like Mao's white page

but not for words

I smell my fear secrete

whiskey fire eyes

smoke, cracked in the lamp night's shadow

I call her but she runs

lust-raked red dust fingers red brick scar

blood lip spit-swill passion speaking tongues

holy night, sacred bleeding for silly little words on a rug

by an open flame beseech me, call me

from a corner square laid waste in a mound

gone again, deaf again, born red again

like Mao's white page
afire

7:05 AM - 5 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

OPEN
Category: Writing and Poetry

I posted this poem earlier this year and then took it down for personal reasons, but now I am ready again for it to be posted.

Open. Open

Open is forever. Open is flow.

Open is mystery. And into.

Cut wide. Cut away. Unhidden. The mind.

Open in light. Open I imagine.

Open is my God. Open is my Faith

My risk. My release. My adventure. My time

Open is silence, aware, away from

Walking away from and to fear

A quest, a question, a whole note held

In kind hands, wide open, open.

Why when I sleep unshielded

Do I feel so warm?

Paul de la Plante 2008

7:03 AM - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Woe is me!
Category: Writing and Poetry

Woe is me

It took but four hops

two at a time
one on each leg and again

no target or destination

just simple little hops

and yes expectation

wincing at probability

that pebbles shall peck my tender toes

yet silk-spring blades tickle my escape

and so I quit the city

hopping wincing tentatively

hip-hopping

hip-hopping

jumping like a jumping bean

to an entry to an exit

o'er the pebble in between

to get out of here and get back home

twister storms and water spouts

bouncing like an echo

bouncing like a ball

till the pebbles on the path

beneath my feet

appear

painful and dear

2:41 AM - 7 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

The kiss that never was
Category: Writing and Poetry

Drifting on you

I am incomplete

Longing for your subtle grace

You, an exquisite torture I cannot quit

Melt not away into that void

Lest burning lips burn alone

Brush your thoughts 

'gainst this waiting ear

T'is my kiss you fear

My kiss

4:52 PM - 7 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

Sweet Talk
Current mood: cooky/wacky
Category: Writing and Poetry

Sweet talk

bopping crackers skip me baby

tête-à-tête a bottle spinning rune

arrhythmic desperado candy

teasing me insanely nonchalantly

your sugar beam a blessed nut

a nubile nattering lollypop I lick away

and feed my eye scratched hardware nonetheless

lyrically fecund I be

and crackers crumbs and crackers

8:01 PM - 11 Comments - 22 Kudos - Add Comment

Mecano Man
Category: Writing and Poetry

I am . . . extension digital streaming

deca digit light receptive mecano man extant

rust-free, ripped free

            genome construction circa '56

            recessive model

 Something slipped by

on the way to Sunday School

© Paul de la Plante 2008

7:58 PM - 10 Comments - 20 Kudos - Add Comment

Delusions of Joy
Category: Writing and Poetry

Delusions of Joy

I remember thinking

not being told where things are

my cold fists sweat

I walk to nowhere

I don't turn back

You scream at me

and my anguish battles my anger

I remember thinking

life stopped somewhere here

I burn, I have burned, I shall burn

for Kings and musk scents of maidens dancing

perfumes of prison, deep oceans and no-one else

fever, pitched in my tent in the sand

like Frankincense burnt into the walls

fragrant oils in her hair, blood thick in my shit

From her eye to my lip a droplet

sears a tongue swollen frantic to cry out

how the curve of her hip is the haunt

of my wild abandon. what if I did?

unchained, will I walk Unchained?

I remember the thirst of chains but not the cry

Freedom! You sleep fitful on these fingers

clenched delusions, timorous fist

whispering, whispering my blood

onto the fire

blunt lifeless blunt

I burn. What if I breathe?

Will I burn?

What if I rise? Will I burn?

But what if I sing?

I remember singing to you

exploding, nothing soft

trembling shaking pitiless bliss

you sing with me

and shudder rolls on spasm

I remember craving

This.

Freedom sleeps fitfully on my fingers

©Paul de la Plante 2008

9:07 PM - 10 Comments - 26 Kudos - Add Comment

Our dark side
Category: Writing and Poetry

shadow

dim dark an altered ego

a doubt

my stain this night below

flit fly flutter

looming gone
under tunnel pricked neon spots

white like white rubber balloons before dawn

soft balloon that crescent moon

silhouetted whirl

gloom pirouettes

this - a stalker saviour -

scar my moonlight, scar it

hunt me chain me dance me

faintly darkly as I stride

light's yang

dim unto deep the saviour slips

I stand lee, tonight

Are you there?

Are you there?

© Paul de la Plante 2007

11:10 AM - 6 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

Re-entry
Current mood: rejuvenated
Category: Writing and Poetry

elementary 

rhythm step 

street step beat 

leather beat back 

breathe hands whisper 

hands whisper winter cold 

burn cold burning grief frost bites 

nasal dripping frost bites dim lights 

whisper slim solemn step street step elementary 

rhythm

2:11 PM - 13 Comments - 16 Kudos - Add Comment