athenaRules In reply to StuartR [2007-09-02 02:18:42 +0000 UTC]

Hey if any little anything can be an inspiration, and is even vaguely connected to my being, I am happy to be a part of it.

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StuartR In reply to athenaRules [2007-09-15 12:04:16 +0000 UTC]

Hehe, thanks!

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athenaRules In reply to wb-skinner [2006-12-30 08:16:17 +0000 UTC]

Well, I ah, imagine it like the board game, but really not as ah, quaint, maybe a bit trickier. I have always longed for a lollypop lined sidewalk.

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athenaRules In reply to ArmorFelix2001 [2006-06-24 03:18:21 +0000 UTC]

Say, that urine smell must be epidemic. I stayed in a suite at a hotel, last weekend, but the hall by elevator smelled like whiz. Must be when they knock down the rate, they give you some offal like aromatherapy.

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athenaRules In reply to ArmorFelix2001 [2006-04-23 05:38:56 +0000 UTC]

Four horsemen well one girl
my greaves are all saddle soaped
and red drenched brush
ready for anything


Black Mage Mail, always makes me happy, like um being read to and having pony sweat on me.

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ArmorFelix2001 In reply to athenaRules [2006-05-08 21:16:38 +0000 UTC]

Now muse, give Athena's body back now
or I'm gonna have to shout Persona!
and let out my own rock n' roll muse
in knee high white boots. Think you're the devil
well my neck's metal, reinforced, spins on a swivel
and drills out exorcist girls while drinking red
cool-aid with little crucifix umbrellas, wanna
collaborate? I'll fly my coke jet into the fiery chasm,
private hell-o, that's one's old
where the stewardesses wear long johns
with firehose over one elbow, serving snub-nosed
buckshot buns. Parachute weighs two tons
like some fancy cartoon seven layer
dark gray jell-os, let's rock and roll,
guitar with white wings crashes
in the snow top snow, mountains
meet cybernetic John Denver;
He'd like ice cubes in his ginger ale.

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athenaRules In reply to ArmorFelix2001 [2006-05-09 02:08:25 +0000 UTC]

Oh I likie likie.

i need someone with a swivel neck to watch my back
swivel necks come in handy when
whooing out exorcist girl

seven layer brains
and my muse is looking doe eyed innocent
but we know so much much better

Nice one Mr.AF

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ArmorFelix2001 In reply to athenaRules [2006-05-09 06:31:03 +0000 UTC]

I have a white geisha mask
living in the small of my back.

Baby-eyed slits, baby eyes slit.

Baby knows where

Iria hides the ceramic dagger

in the sheath of an armtail

flossy redneck sinew.

There's a gun barrel in the handle

and I chisel busts with my forehead,

sweat droplets time travel.

Descend into the column

and reload, my spine is fluid.

God is the ghost of a teleporter platform.

Protective force fields are easy

crystals that look like cinnamon danishes

begging to have their barely blue

stoppers pulled out. Cancer

is invincible, it cuts from planet

to planet

and grafts on military grade lasers,

but

does not look (from) behind my back.

It absorbed my brother

and I might scratch off its head by accident.

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athenaRules In reply to ArmorFelix2001 [2006-05-10 02:14:31 +0000 UTC]

sweat rivelet spinal infusion

twizzler red necks pull apart and tie knots

welcome to the kitchen witchery

Geisha pours tea ritual
procreation
keep cooking
cancer shut the bakery down
no buns in the oven

no cinnamon swirl
milky whey milky way

I think my muse gave your muse
a foot rub
to walk on backs more freely

watching for those knife handles

trip wires that will eviscerate flesh
quiet
step breath step

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ArmorFelix2001 In reply to athenaRules [2006-05-10 21:37:26 +0000 UTC]

Bring me the remix queen!

with juggling mechanics inside her boobies.

Disco David is dependant on dolled-up doobies

tapping out the steps to disco ball boobies.

Music is dependant on boobies, so addicted

it does its own welfare check

down in the cleavage, purple sequins

fit the crime like dough, oh

I remember she's dough-eyed

with pigtails hogtied (I wonder if I

could apply to be a necklace or an earring,

cause one of her things might drop

into her thingie-things!) Yes, those are tripwires

that aren't mine, no mines, but they sure are charged!

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athenaRules In reply to ArmorFelix2001 [2006-05-11 01:50:40 +0000 UTC]

Plum tree shake dance

cured the girl off the snake
prance

purlple sequin romance
and this is zee thyme on splrokettes
ven ve dance

melon ball in the big church hall
and knife throwing at the nieghbors
bring your casserole
swap your wife
and yodel your the save yours

jewlry box in the breadbox
and the dough is rising
look what I found
cracker jacks
snacker cracks
we all fall down

at the end of the day shake it like a snow globe
and fall asleep with with
disco a go go
moon dust
ground in soul of your feat

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ArmorFelix2001 In reply to athenaRules [2006-05-15 19:47:55 +0000 UTC]

Trying to pull back one of these

incomprehensible memories.

I might be tearing off the shoulder

of a monstrous, small-breasted

asian woman, or is she

one of many chasing me

with receptive limbs and bodies.

I might be playing Nightmare Creatures again

with Hong Kong as Crowley's town.

I remember the torch-lit tunnel

unfolding to the street

and the stone building of wealth

with walls that broke like glass polygons.

I am in the living room with barred windows,

and around back is a orange paper lantern

swimming pool. It has a concrete island

in the center and a party going on,

so I guess it's really a moat.

There is a church the next morning

with a hole splintered in the roof

as if the pews were to serve as nesting material

for some giant harpy. But there is just a woman in a gown

sitting up there on the edge, and tossing

pieces of the roof down at me.

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athenaRules In reply to ArmorFelix2001 [2006-05-17 00:44:03 +0000 UTC]

Party Favor
cat gut
to mend the cleaving
back ground music
grinding
pools of conviction making my feet wet
sew sew suck and grow

something about all the way to Mexico
crossing the border

leaving my mother land to my back
as I grovel for invisibleness
as I hide and make alters
to my mother land

roof over my head
like all things over my head

Light my candle with Mary
and the wind cries Mary
and the cat gut whispers
through flesh and hope
Mary

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ArmorFelix2001 In reply to athenaRules [2006-05-26 05:07:59 +0000 UTC]

Mary was a bedridden character
in Persona that I never
quite - finished a paradelle on.

She - in another
story
also appeared - as a Stevie Nicks
stardust sweetest angel,
innocent smarty head.
And - as a life-sized doll
on a work bench,
she - swung turquoise purple striped knees
cried squirts of black motor oil

the creator could not allow himself to love.
But that was another story.

This
Mary was a bedridden character
in Persona.

She grew new whole new worlds
from her hospital bed,
in her sleepyhead,
sick pill worlds of philosophy.

A golden butterfly offered hope
for her coma aches and pains,
by lifting five
japanese boarding school uniforms
to negotiate demonic vortices.

Her friends choose to cut code
with katanas, foils, rifles, and shotguns,
with heroic lines like EAT THIS by the handful,
gobbled like candy into the clip of a machine gun.

There was a little girl in black and a little girl in white,
a pink banzai save point and big-nosed mortician,
a faceless Mary for the one that had died,
in gray skirt, the good parts of her psyche

overran with character
against hordes that bobbled, gaggled and gawked
in the lazy orange and buzzy green fingers of opium smoke.
against commanding angels paired
with pleading, seducing succubi on corporate
turkish pillows.
against the beauty queen of the harem, once
from their school. Black on white dragon spots
on reversable body, she had more than eyes
on the back on her head.

One by one, they beat the freaks back to normal
as reality unwinded, and the president
of the company, with Mary's mind in its machine,
became a God simultanously
and simultaneously sick of living.

Such is just a scratch on the rich world of Mary.

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athenaRules In reply to ArmorFelix2001 [2006-06-03 19:46:30 +0000 UTC]

Kachina Doll on the alter
next to Athena
a pony
and Mary
Next to the throat latch
that unhatched
doves with singed wing

and smoke circles the heads

of the Goddesses on the window sil

Vying for the judgement of Paris
lying on half shells and speaking in tongues
half lies
have lives

Roses taste bitter when bruised between teeth
and sugar will make the skin raw
when ground without an annoitment of oil

ask Mary how her knees are
and if she will kiss my finger tips
that burnt
trying to light her candle

water my rosary
and lend me a scratch pad
to keep score
of how many moments
that did not count

mandrake ginger root
half chaps and riding stick
manuals for operating things
that won't even start

Mary did you see me trim the hedge
with my kitchen scissors
in my wife beater and boots

under the sliver of the moon
under that sliver of wedding cake
under the belly of the universe

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ArmorFelix2001 In reply to athenaRules [2006-06-07 04:25:40 +0000 UTC]

Snuffle sneezes
enlarge tonsils in a hula hoop ring;
I think I'm dying like Mary did,
but I'm all thought out. No,
she still showed up in the graduation photo.

If there was a plan to believe, surely
it has already reached post-apocalyptic
proportions, the bomb has been dropped
like a grown man's cookie, and I'm still
praying to the programmers to grow
shotguns like rats in the cornfield.

I tear open flowers like bags of chips
with my teeth, the lotus goes
crack pop pill crop and knows
I've got protoculture tigers in my tank.

I've got tigers swiveling the turret
and driving the tank too.

They're running, but over,
a witch's garden of nightshade,
thornys and stringys

latch onto the tread and grudge
leverage to tear the war
machines apart like ripe fruit;

Allowing the tigers to sunbathe
on the red misunderstood lady's
nightmare hedges.

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athenaRules In reply to ArmorFelix2001 [2006-06-09 00:38:10 +0000 UTC]

OH my GOD, I loved that so so much, I am not sure I can volley. Are we keeping track of these? Our Mary conglomerates? We should be, I mean think of the illustrations we could do!!

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ArmorFelix2001 In reply to athenaRules [2006-06-11 02:21:38 +0000 UTC]

I save all my doohickeys, in fact I've been trying to reprocess quite a few lately. Revisions without a care, blatant revisions, no more getting jammed up on one poem, endless sideprojects!! 8D

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