SLAM Meeting 2/27/17

fort steliacoom.jpg

Uncaged
The walls are
In your heart

So set them free

OLY 308
Curtains coming down
To cover the
Windows

Lights bright
Inside
A nice view
Peeks in
From outside

Am I a chancer
Or just so zen

Anywhen

I can be
Unchanged

Uncaged

This room is the
Bane
Of unimaginates

So Cal Lunar

I earnestly
Miss the moon

As it was more
Commonly called
Luna in
So Cal skies

How it looked new
As a dialated pupil

And when it was full
So jeweled and bold

Waxing demelting
Waning and fading

But now I can’t
See it anymore

In cloudy, rainy
Washington

Skies still have
A great allure

Yet the crystal eye
No longer burns

Farm

Uncomforable
Victories phyrric

Position is calm
Until it isn’t

When bearings fly
By automatic fire

Running through mud
And plastic

With boots and
Cleet

It’s tense and
Bleak

Surrounded
With no retreat

Then silence
Falls

Muscles relax
And we speedload

What time we have
We can’t be sure

Waiting or
Flanking

Crouched and
Listening

For a footstep
By the opposition

Quietly
Uncomfortably

Our gear is
Heavy

Movement is
Slow

Right now it’s
Still

And tense
Covered yet clear

Our position is calm
But it won’t be

That way
For very long

Twenty Teeth

It’s a
Washed up
Lever locking
Skeletal
Mechanism

Bent at the teeth
And thick
Along its shape

What it opened:
Worth little
In comparison

To the value
Of a symbol
Of what it’d
Seen

What acts it
Had to play

And who held it
To lock and unlock
Something
To somewhere
In what scene

It holds
Those scenes
Culturally

A lost, beached
Ashore,
Lever lock,
Master,
Skeleton key

And a wrought-iron,
Unlocking jaw

With twenty teeth

McKenna

McKenna

I think that’s how
Your name is spelled

I knew you as a clone
A reminder
Of someone I once knew

Yet there were subtle
Differences

Your hair was blue
The original’s was red

I wanted to go on a date
With you

Mustered the courage
To go up and ask

I was truly
Smitten

But

I tried to ask
To get to know you

And don’t know where you went
After you shot me down

Music in the Car

My music’s not for you
As I roll my window down
And turn the volume up
I don’t want to hear you
Whining while I’m happy
While I’m driving

My music’s not meant
For you

Miserable Witch

I’m a bitch
I’m a lich
Or a miserable
Witch

Existential
Spiritual
Malicious
Little bitch

Who’s got a twitch
In the wrist
Who can curse you
If I wish

With a stroke
Of my hand

Yes I can
Though it isn’t
Really magic

You wouldn’t
Understand

‘Cause I’m a bitch
I’m a lich
Or a miserable
Witch

Bubbling boil
Toil
And trouble

I put my soul
In something else
And let it go cold

Fuck you regardless
Of a spell
Or my wish

Whatever I
Want goes off
Without a hitch

It must be easy
To demonstrate like this

‘Cause I’m a bitch
I’m a lich
I’m a wicked little
Witch

You’ll be remembered
By my curse
In a verbal casket
If you want to chance it

Bric-A-Brac

All my sentiments
Have prices and
Item numbers

Everything can
Come down to
Dollars
And cents

Every trinket
On my shelf
Every memory
Of every day

At least
If you see it
That way

Lady Cali’s Bones

There’s a special kind of
Cold that’ll brush across
Your face

With slender fingers
And painted nails

It’ll feel so sweet yet so
Welcoming

Like when you leave the window
In your bedroom open
And the night invites
Itself in
While you’re undercover
Under covers

Disguised as someone
Who should be sleeping
Yet a thrall to answer
Her heedsome call

An aura of attraction
And a magic with mystery

So cold yet so engulfed
In energy