Places I’ve slept:
Mattresses; Callie-Kings, Just kings, queens, twins, doubles, fold out, drop-out,
...
The chill felt upon dawn after a fire has gone out,
is like no other chill,
your body is a stone of heat,
and as the ash from bonfires gather
...
It’s not that you can’t capture Love
Tie it up and throw it in a box
So you can visit it when wanted,
You can if you want,
...
Perpetual Motion, Ouroboros, yin and yang, this is what’s birthed
when things that won’t be moved
combine with things that cannot be stopped.
...
Let every kiss
be the last every time
its the only way you'll be grateful
...
I woke up knowing what I wrote next
Would be beautiful
Also I knew that it would be for you.
I prepared each syllable in my head
...
The Shortest Short Stories:
l.
The Empty Rose Field:
A vast rose field once went unexplored by all humanity.
...
Some are inspired by music,
Bodies bare
Or poetry alike their own
Or not,
...
Your soft thighs I long for,
Growing long still, stretching over my chest,
Legs shifting like gears moving me
Holding me,
...
6 am
Its still dark outside the stalled bus.
Any moon existing
Barely penetrates these tinted windows.
...
A goodbye
is a cheated Feeling,
Like you’ve been kissed by
The shadow
...
Legs shifting like the tide’s break,
They continue pace walking
Into the night that plans it’s rebirth.
...
I hear her heart beat
Tranquil
Next to mine,
And like the first drops splashing
...
(Please do not ask me to read your poetry, I have enough poetry to read as it is, pushing your work on me will only further thicken my distaste for you, Thank you) Has greatly accomplished little in a lot of time, Joshua Bantum, although having produced quanities of stacked work, in type and file, it`s all been neglected the simplest and most important nutrient needed for it to grow, a chance, by it`s author and by the public.)
Waiting For Action
Where is the woman
That I’m taking out to dinner
Tonight
Behind the door
Of this café
Thousands of woman know me
My type, and they want it
To laugh, to feel soft
Letting go of caution
A subtle touch upon them
Like a whisper of air
Circulating around their core
Lifting their shroud of neglect
A façade keeping weakness at bay
But the tides
They rise like a smooth death
Grasping towards the sky
Time builds and breaks everything
Especially its favorites
Objects seemingly built perfect
So I am like Time
And am patient like time, because it is patient with me
And as it sews actions of joy together for me to break
I produce fear and weakness for it to forsake
Where is the woman
Who begs to hear this vow
Who like me
Begged to find truth
Even if in the core of a lie
You must plant a tiny seed of it
And wait a lifetime longer than your own
To ever have it sprout, to curl upon new soil
Like a newborns hand wraps upon its mothers thumb
Kisses the blades of grass
Who like itself, grew through the mass
Behind that door
That sparked this rush of light
Is a world waiting, Like I’m waiting
Patient.