A Strawberry Melancholia

I slide through this world
Just like that jam dripping
From edges of the jar
After breakfast
On cold kitchen tops
Turned up side down
Sticking to what I know
Falling reluctantly
Towards a frying pan
Watered down
Evaporated all around the room
Until I smell of everything
And everything smells of me

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Friends, I have no idea how to continue this blog, this experiment, after creating 100 characters/100 poems. I have decided to practice free-writing for some time. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Peace and love to all.

The Bachelor: Casual Fucks in the Universe of Infinity

This lonesome hunger
Ploughing through my veins
Marks a turn in mind
Towards the inner-self
The fear of living
With no sense of life
Feeding off the flesh of night
Until the game is bear and bone
And every other day
Just like the one before
An empty skirmish
For the reckless soul
So much excitement
In my thoughtless deeds
More like the comfort of necessities
But nothing seems to stick for long
A woman, maybe,
A queen of queens
Sent to me from the unforeseen
But am I ready to receive?
Am I ready to believe?
That beauty
Can be maintained
In partnership
With some woman of my dreams
Or will I keep on feeding
Off the crumbs
That mark the path
Ordained for us to meet
Until my hunger drives me
In this labyrinth of desire
Across my lifetimes
Towards an end
That’s destined to complete

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Character: 98/100
To everyone that’s lost in life. Lost in robotic routines. Satisfied and happy but looking for so much more.

The Bridesmaid: Diamond Rings & Dishwashers

Dreams scratching at my face
Trying to escape my mind
To pop out of my eyes and fly away
Towards a place where they can be
Inside the bond of marriage we are two
Trying to make some sense out of our love
But passion knows no sense or meaning true
Ambiguity is what it feeds upon
Not reason nor a chartered course to make
It is the lack of reason and the doubt
That keeps the flame ablaze
A passion so strong that it fuels the night
With raging fires consuming all our thought
Between the dusty frames that bound our lives
So much is lost, so little to be told
Upon this mantelpiece that they call love
Our lives adjoin into an institute
What room is there for appetite
After the dishes have been done
I wash away the remnants of our youth
And dry our lustful aspirations with a cloth
What worldly way could we decide to choose
To keep desire hungry but subdued
It seems that what we have could never be
Bound by the sanctity of family

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Character: 77/100 (We’re getting closer!)

The Reckless Driver: Brain Freezes on Route Sixty-Four

Ripped away
From gutters of yesterday
Bleeding with anguish
Swaying around
In puddles of desolation
Ripping through our guts
Spraying our insides
Across the windshield
Jubilating at the sight
Of darkness tearing through us all
Pieces flying all around the sky
Freeing us from being in one place
Speed is the world
On ecstasy ravaging
Towards an unknown turn
Blinking fog lights
Broken signals
Navigating through our passion
A tale of dying everyday
And when our corpses rupture
Holding hands
All that befalls
Is a tiny simple snowfall
Trying to cover up
All the wrongs of this world
Trying to hide
From the eyes of the newborn
The shame of existence
The sham of persevering in a world
Where all we have is lost around a corner
Seeping blood crawls like snow cones
To the surface painted red
An icy carpet made of strawberry slurpee
We take it all in
Without a second thought
Brain freezes on Route Sixty-four
Jittery hands, coy touches
In a magic carriage ride
Making love at 120
Climaxing at 150
Why live at any slower pace?

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Character: 68/100

The Whore: Squeaky Beds and Distant Galaxies

I am not afraid of that which is uncertain
Behind the drapes the sun may rise
Or darkness may pervade forevermore
But in my mental space
A whole new universe
That answers to the deepest of desires
And quenches thirsts of pleasure and relief

My heart is pierced a million times
By the trials of this world
A million sticks a’ pricking at my door
The townsmen gather here today
Demanding justice
For that which they do not know
Empty values in their midst diffuse
Ringing bells and anthems of old times

To them the world is night or day
The sun or moon can only rule the sky
But here behind my drapes in my sweet bed
So many other sons have ruled my day
Until a point where truth is lost between
The opening of my vagina and his pubic hair
A narrow fringe of laughter and despair
Why hate me if I sell my flesh
When the whole world has sold its soul
And pimped its body without care

On this sweet morn
My fleeting body is exposed
To their batons and whips and words
But I still journey in my mind
Seeking truths that everyone has left behind
Wisdom sings with squeaking beds
A million stories to be told
My bedroom is the universe
And when its drapes are drawn forevermore
My body naked waiting to be stoned
I feel content and blessed to be a whore

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Character: 65/100
Dedicated to: Stella Marr (prostitution survivor)
http://secretlifeofamanhattancallgirl.wordpress.com/about/

The Moto-Racer: Checkered Flags & Finish Lines

Slicing through the silence of the streets
Let us ride together and forever in between
Eternity and present time
Let us dwell in dreams of victory
Golden trophies and champagne
With answers clear
An endless race with static clocks
Where winning can mean staying put
And staying put is all we need
To move beyond the finish line
No ribbon there to mark the end
Of our sweet course
Only a pistol on the mantelpiece
So that the world can start to race
While we lay back and watch the show
For peace is all that we would know
Racing for each other’s love
On mountain sides and prairie plains
Shifting gears to stay in tune
With our true selves
No matter what is in our way
But every race the rules are clear
Only one is meant to win
So time is bound to run again
Against the odds we play our game
I am to fast, you can’t keep up
The race begins
I come in first
And after checkered flags and finish lines
I’m there alone to make some sense
Of losing so much more than I have gained

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Character: 63/100

The Party Animal: Fornication Nation

On disco floors
Blinking colored lights
Vintage glamour
Worn out edges on my Instamatic
In the nation of the night
Imagery does not abide by rules
And so the scene is akin to a dream
An orgy of desire in our minds
A masquerade of our emotions
A sexual frenzy covered up
Toned down by years of evolution
Modernized, commercialized
Served with champagne cocktails
Boasting breasts and silicon lies

We dance, we drink, we pop some pills
To fuse into the walls of shabby basements
To forget, as we evolve
We shed our daytime skin
And lose ourselves to rhythmic chants
Like ancient tribes in trance
Naked of our fears we dance
Pregnant with conviction towards the night
And all the promises it withholds

A ritual, a sacrifice by credit card
Swiped just like a guillotine
Cutting through our bank accounts
On alters of  bottled sexuality
We journey through collective satisfaction
And bathe in fountains bursting with seduction
With all the electronics and the bling
This all may seem some sort of other thing
But truth be told,
Not that very much has changed
Beyond the tweets about the ruck
A creature tagged for profile pics
Is still a creature longing for a fuck

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Character: 57/100

The Nun: Sinful Attraction

I try to contemplate on thy sweet love
But lost with enchantment to your beauty
A fairness too fair in forgetness gloves
The image of such a wond’rous memory

I sleep between the lashes of your eyes
On skin ever more tender than the soil
Beneath my home between my roots I cry
Above to your sweet brow I will be loy’l

Oh fate why must I mourn my bitter end?
I die the worst death that can ever be
A million daggers to my chest I lend
I burn inside, oh passion set me free

This sinful love, I will no longer fight
A new baptism with he who is in sight

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Character: 53/100

The Popstar: Karaoke of Defeat

I sing for all of them to hear
But no one really seems to understand
A loving panther calling for her cubs
While the whole jungle sits aside in fear

As all the world is dancing to my beats
I’m scratching at my ears for it to stop
Deep down inside I feel so out of tune
But on the outside all I do is shine
Just like a supernova for a while
I blow their minds and afterwards implode
Into the catacombs of yesterday
Until the very reason I exist
Is for their smiles and cameras to stay

I’m born a perfect being that I know
But cursed with knowledge really seems to hurt
I cannot find the truth between the lines
And so my life is nothing but a song
It’s pleasant when you hear it for sometime
But I’m obliged to hear  it on repeat
The karaoke of my own defeat

And everyday I run away
I curl inside my bathtub all alone
I let the water fall just like the rain
The paparazzi cannot find me here
My tears are hidden by the drops
My hair is wet
My fragile toes are feeling cold
The water plays its sweetest songs
A symphony of silent tears
I fall asleep
I wish the world could hear me now
Although I’m naked and exposed
Only the drops can make them see
Beyond the face of sexuality

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Character: 47/100
Dedicated to A. G.

The Protester: Deflowering the Arab Spring

An apple bitten to the core
A slaughtered rabbit on a chain
The dismal prospects of a whore
The screeching chalk drives me insane

Where should I go when I have reached
So far down pathways of remorse
How can I feel after I’m skinned
My conscience rotting in a cell

In prisons deep you hear the cries
We beg for death to end the game
No media cam is watching now
Let’s break our vows and die in shame

How can I write and make some sense
When all these words are far too weak
To shed some light on all my  fear
A tyrant challenged is a freak

With blindfolds on my eyes for months
I do not know if I can see
The nation’s blinded by its lust
For some expensive sodomy

We perish in the thousandfold
For freedom, honor, and for beauty
Then to our shock, lo and behold
We’re captive to our dignity

A despot leaves, the people cheer
The blindfolds off, it becomes clear
That we will always be confined
Collective memory rules mankind

Our freedom once a virgin child
An Arab Spring so young at heart
But now the blood runs down her feet
A nation raped on its own part

Hash-tags can never save us now
So let’s just tweet our own defeat

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Character: 46/100

The Model: Skinny Love

Splash some magic ink onto my face
Bitch!
Let me glow
And show them whose the diva of this town
I need to shrink
I am too fat
I need to disappear to feel just right
And in my disappearance
I want to take command
I want the world to see
One thing
Beyond my flesh
Beyond the contours of my body
Beyond the makeup and the clothes
Beyond my heels
Beyond my sexy lingerie
Beyond the purgatory of my cleavage
Beyond my long and shiny legs and perfect thighs
Beyond my ass so small and plumped up like a prune
I want them to see me,
For who I truly am
An animal of sex
Defined by raging fires inside
An inferno of lustful beauty and vile sentiments
That gives me power over all this land
I want to be the queen of hearts of every man
And towards that end
I’ll sacrifice it all
Until I disappear
And all that remains is the trace of my lipstick
On a can of diet coke
On my cigarette butt
And on the many apples rotting by the windowsill
And as I lose my flesh
I shine with individuality
My soul’s revealed
Once captive underneath my skin
But now though naked and alone
On catwalks and red carpets
My skinny love’s revealed

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Character: 43/100
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The Houskeeper: Pillows & Pigeon Shit

Love is a featherless pillow
It falls gently from the sky
Hits us hard when we’re asleep
But never wakes us

We’re lost in dreams
We travel the world
Ancient ruins and abandoned temples
We explore
Scavenge through the forests deep
Poke through the craters of distant caves
Shelves and drawers
Closets and some cupboards
We live a million years to share the stories

A gentle gaze from eyes so perfect
Bleach your soul with a feeling so divine
A humbling rumble in your guts
A sense of belonging that folds you into two
A sense of fitting
A sense of letting go
All packaged in a cushion cover

And every night as we wander in our dreams
We steal a feather from a bird
And bring it back with us as proof
Of our emotions so surreal

As time goes by the pillow grows
It’s stained from our adventures
It falls so blandly from the sky
Just like a drop of pigeon shit
It strikes us hard
Its blows are stronger by the hour

We begin to ache
We begin to hurt
We carry on
Until the feathers packed so hard
Once a symbol of our own freedom
Become the instruments
Of our own demise
And so in truth I finally see
I’m not desired anymore
A house to keep I cannot keep
My heart’s no longer welcome

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The Rockstar: Kingdom of Magic Pills

Distorted sounds are slicing through the wind
On overdrive guitars have much to say
I speak distortedly, I yell, I cry
My melodies they screech
The mobs of people in a state of trance
My temple of emotions is complete

Throughout the concert I deliver more
I push myself beyond the kind unseen
I go to places that we hide away
I take my subjects with me on the way
And in that dark adventure we embrace
A hedonistic haze and bathe in flesh

When social boundaries have disappeared
What’s left in us is everything but fear
A mob so liberated it can perform
Its own distorted melodies, with its own strings
And as they pluck there way to ecstasy
The strings break from the shaft and they are free
Towards collectiveness that does transcend
The feeble boundaries of socialistic ends

In concert of the pleasures so to speak
The masses gather round in merriment
The sex the drugs the rock’n’roll
Mixed with the magic pills we take
Makes objects in a constant state of change
And as each morphs the night into their dreams
I die a little more from all the strain
I am a martyr of their hidden needs
Rock on!
With armies made of colored pills
I am the king of Babylon indeed

The Sexaholic: New Year’s Bang

Crickets creeping through my mind
Cracking like a pacman in a maze
Scratching on the lining of my face
Breaking into deep and solemn thoughts
Hatching wild ideas from within
Playing with the wiring of my ideals
Readjusting time and the dimensions
Flying through the space between my ears
Suited up like astronauts, equipped
To ravage through the craters of my brain

I lend a smile and then extend my wrath
I paint myself then cry myself to sleep
I fuck a random stranger to forget
Rockets fired all throughout the night
Counting down for takeoff every evening
I pace myself until it feels just right
Blast off always puts me on the edge
Floating in an endless hyperspace
Peering at the cosmos from my windowsill
A countdown starts, I see it on the screen!

Times Square is full of people on New Year’s eve
Waiting for a show of something nice
Waiting for some answers, for some love
Peering at my launchpad up above
And as the ticker slowly loses numbers
My head prepares for blast off and beyond
The clock strikes twelve
A “Happy New Year’s” roars out loud
I reach towards my glock and make a sound

Narcotic Love – A Journey in the mind of the Scriptwriter

Rings of smoke
Flying through the air
A whiskey flavor lingers in my mouth
My beard is coarse
My feet inside some random slippers rest
The bathrobe on the side
Stows her smell
We pose afront a warming fireplace
The cracking of a vinyl melody
Makes perfect tone for such a rainy night

If only she were mine,
I’d have her here with me
On top my desk
Instead of books and pens
I’d read her body
A million fantasies to be told
Legs apart
From head to toes
So soft and thin
Damp and soggy from the rain
I’d study her from within
A million lessons to be learned
From heart to soul
So pure and kind
Untouched by all the evil in this world

If only she were here,
I’d help her hang her furry coat
Set aside her necklace made of pearls
Untie the ribbon on her hair
Unbuckle her vest and reach towards her skin
I’d peel her from her covering
Like chocolate from a wrap
I’d melt her on my chest and arms
And pour us both into a flask
Until we dry across the fireplace
We harden in a soft embrace

I’d lay with her
Under the rain
Alone and complete
Without shame
Like children again
We wash and play
Nothing is more truthful than the rain

If only she could stay,
I’d set her on my bed
A thousand pages with its sheets I’d write
A thousand rainy nights
To quench our thirst
And when the dawn breaks with its light
We’d morph into a summer haze
The smoke, the scotch, my prickly beard
My reading glasses, my books, my pens
They never mattered
And so I lose again

The Bitch Brigades – In company of the Drama Queen

The other day
He called me late at night
That horny asshole
Knows how to pick a fight
His bathroom stunk
Because I took a dump
I took revenge
To teach him who to hump!

Bitch?
Yes, you could say
But open your heart
To my story of disappointment
To my tale of dismay
To my tragedy of relationships
The Iliad’s pages
We’ll fill a million times
Double-spaced, of course
But still worth your while
And soon enough
You’ll understand
You’ll join my force:
The bitch brigades

An irrational act?
Well I’m happy you have the nerve
To call me irrational
For grabbing what I deserve
You have to shock them
You have to be the perv
And with some practice
You’ll make their loose-ends curve!

Today at work
He texts me on my phone
He misses me?
No, he just wants to bone
I text him back
“You have to change your tone”
But deep inside,
I can’t wait till I moan!

And when it’s night
We cuddle in his bed
He’s feeling bored
He’s waiting for some head
And finally
He speaks of love instead!
His wife storms in
Oh my, this asshole’s dead

To hell with men
The drama that they bring
Some look for action
And others want a ring
But as for me
I need the ideal fling
A man that serves me
And lets me do my thing

I’ve been in action
For oh so many years
I guess its time
To look beyond my fears
The queen of bitches
Needs to have her rest
Goodbye to straightness
Hey! Dyke, show me some breast!

Emancipation Nation – In the Bedroom of the Female Activist

Sheets of cloth
Wrapped around
The layers of my world
Alone with warming covers
Alone in peace forever
This is my nation

My bedroom, an eternal sanctuary
Stands strong in the face of time
In the face of all those voices
That hang behind its door

And what of love
What of work
What of life itself?
There is no failure in my shrine
Pieces of my soul
Are soaked in wine
Prospects of my future
Are shadows on my wall
I dance alone
And make the whole world shake

I cling to what I have
My body perfect and untouched
Will never leave me
And so in my nakedness
I am liberated from fear

My eyes, they’re closed
I spin myself into a mystic dream
I see a world with colors bright
With hope and love and endless joy
With passion, without fear

The choices all around me
I cannot think, I cannot feel
Beyond the comfort of my bed
I do not know where truth resides

A princess in my own abode
But slaved to hunger beyond these walls
I march along
In search of truth
In search of passion
In search of emancipation
An incomplete happiness
That fills my heart
But leaves my mind and soul
In thirst

And so alone at night
I drink myself to sleep
To quench my inner cravings
To ease my mind and free my soul
To rise above the social chatter
To become
What I am destined to be
A shooting star
And nothing less
Although I’m racing towards my end
I race towards it in endless glamour

Sexual Trance – Midnight Show of the Brothel Dancer

Lights flickering
Smoke machines breathing foggy mist
Constant pulsation of a tacky beat
And in the darkness of the room
An army of yellow teeth
Smiling

I take some hits before I take the stage
A needle squeezes comfort in my veins
Emerging from the foggy mist
My body cleaves across the room
The contours of my golden skin
Slides on the squeaky granite floor

I start with letting my hair go loose
I feel the air begin to thin around me
I pull aside my straps and untie
The laces that keep my basque in place

As I reveal myself to the outer world
My body floods with feelings of seduction
The men around me reveal themselves by drooling
They feel my heat
I feel their slobber seeping up the stage
A stream of murky liquid flowing towards me

I touch my skirt and as they gaze
I rip it off and set the cloth ablaze
Although I’ve practiced many times
The plumes of smoke still choke me

I dance along the dotted line
In total nudeness I embrace my fate
And suddenly the lights begin to dim
The smoky plumes, they clog my lungs
I’m drowning in a tank of slimy drool
I’m wet with hunger
Swimming with a million beefy men
A gush of pain flows through my head
I wonder who will share my bed
Its all mixed up and all too fast!

I puke and faint.
And with it all the world converges in a dot
They quickly drag my body towards the back
I’m three months pregnant and can’t make the rent
Where would she live?
How would I feed her?
How would she feel about my job?
The owner asks to redo my routine

I prep my outfit
I jump into the spotlight once again
The brothel’s rooms are full tonight
No room is left aside for second thoughts