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The Gecko, and the Italian book collector (Free verse) by horus8 From the couch, he reads and chats;
A sage of antiquitous homosexual poetry.
Just inside Rome, his terrace blooms Jasmine.
Wide open windows & white lace beckon a breeze,
and it comes, and it always comes well.
Books piled and stacked, but not randomly.
He makes time for pillows, the telephone, and tea.
To speak slow, because he listens quickly,
and gives freely to all, but the geckos
Paintings of mutating people, and animals abound;
But there will be no perch for this gecko.
Turning down
For the night
He reaches for
His bedside light
To find instead
A cold green critter
And you could say
He was a twitter
But no blow came
He left instead
To fetch the can
of "ant be dead"
Returned he then
To aim his spray
'till empty can &
fell'd gecko lay
Do gecko's pray?
They should today.
Cursing softly, and almost pleasantly with guilt.
The Italian book collector casts the creature out.
Its poor wretched death mask fixed, and color, gone.
He turns about, clears his bed, and clicks a switch fan.
Thirty minutes post, asleep, he dreams a gecko funeral.
In the morning, with fresh juice, he peers from balcony.
All evidence missing, not a trace, and when asked "why
he hates the gecko?". He thinks a moment... But then
spots a book that he would love to show you first.
"Some dreams come true".
Up the ladder:
Bombs
Down the ladder:
You Were There
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 7.3333335
Posted: June 6, 2003 10:38 PM PDT; Last modified: July 2, 2003 10:21 AM PDTWeighted score: 6.7058034 Overall Rank: 506 Comments:
[n/a]
Islander @ 202.123.20.96
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6-Jun-03/10:51 PM
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Reply
Marvelous :)
i, personally, like geckos. and so i laughed guiltily.
from what I know, gekos are generally ill-tempered reptiles. save a few species like the leopard and the fat tail gecko.
a smoothe read. emphasis on smooth. cool form. You've reached a new level for yourself here. GQT again.
nice
i like that..it's eye cathing
Wonderful. Last two lines were great. Catchy title, too. 9
Why'd you pull your poem down? Don't you want to learn?
I am learning. I've learned that I need to try a different type of poetry. Starting over! Thanks for the comments. :)
So you are saying what? Start over, and try concentrating on specific subjects that do not include yourself. A book, a bird, a cafe, your period, your breasts, your beautiful pissed off pursed lips. Anything but self regret and suicide those feeling need to leak naturally into your work and not contaminate the entirety of the piece all at once. Do you have beautiful pursed lips by the way?={;}
I could teach you the art of poetry for a small fee. The fee would be your love draped over my broad Greek shoulders.
Thank you very much <{Baba^Yaga}> for the advice. Ah, I'd better get back to the drawing board, then...
Perhaps if we held hands than? I could show you the power of poetry. I could make you vibrate and pray sweet silver to Artemis. How about it?
So you're purposely keeping me out of the top 15, huh? Well that's just typical. But hey, I don't begrudge it, not after the things you wrote on my poems the other day. I also like geckos, so keep your place in the top 15 and good luck and thank you.
Not precisely, but upon further review of your poetry i came to the abrupt conclusion that you were born to be a poet, and I just wanted to let you know that I've studied your work to improve my own. Because poetry is everything to me. Like the way you cinch it up at the end nice and undeniable, leaving the reader breathless and smitten, I just love that, you're great at that, and how you build and release and connect dots most are completely oblivious too, by merging symbolism with fact and folklore and love and longing and mundane routines and life. I just wanted to let you know that I'm not (oblivious), and I think you're an extraordinarilly gifted writer. Now, back to me. lol. I wrote a sestina today, the first on poemranker. It was like bench pressing a lead bellied midget with no thyroid, but I believe I nailed it. I only lost a foot digit and my pants. Also I wanted to thank you for your direct criticism and sharp feedback. I know most believe me to be heartless and cruel with my critiques, but I'm just sick, of belonging and loving an art form that leaves the artist in between the weekend poets and the greats. I want people to know that I live to write poetry first, and worry about feelings and smashed toes later. I mean, well, I paid my dues i can perform poetic surgery now and it just freaks me out to see weekend poets trying to perform a double bypass with a cracked ash tray and a billess hat. They're fucking everywhere. I'm buried under an ocean of them, and I just wish that they'd get off the pot or shit. I don't want to die an unknown prostitute. I want to belong to something. You know what I mean? Anyway, thanks for listening Christof you're a poet that i look up to, and I consider you as one of the best.
Mr Baba Horus Yaga, do you know that has really touched me. You know I've always thought that you're a kick-ass poet sometimes lacking in discipline, and sometimes I don't get your stuff, but I also know that you're not heartless, that you feel it and do it for real, that you're always trying to make something new and fack me if that's not what poetry needs. I know creation is your life and you've got the guts to live it on your own terms and I understand your frustration with people who think it's a hobby. Well, the best of all bastard luck to you, especially of you're going to try the sestina, 'cos that's the kind of mutant freakoid form that scares me right off. It really means something to me that you appreciate what I've done, mainly because, hell, I know you don't give praise lightly, and also because I think you've put your finger o what I'm trying to do. All power to your elbow, my man. Now enough of this mutual hugging, it'll make us sappy and moist. Go well, old boy.
I'm speechless.. beautiful indeed it is!
And God said let it rain 10s.
What about T-paper, this is way worse then my insanity.
Sure, why not.
Don't you mean, "than" instead of "then"? I'm sorry you're stupid and insane. That must make fixing yourself meals and wiping your ass very difficult. You have my deepest condolences. And a friend and extra shotgun ammo with me anytime. I'm sorry you did not enjoy my poem:( It was written for my uncle that died two weeks ago of AIDS. He raised me after my parents died when I was 5 in an airplane crash. I will work on improving it just for you. See, it's a true story, he had this tremendous fear of geckos, and used to think that they were out to get him. Perhaps a gay gecko gave him AIDS one night while he was sleeping? What do you think?
whats a gecko mr horn dog?
A car insurance company in the jungle with dislodgible eyeballs Kunt, whatta think a big green lizard with an echoish call.
Goodness me there seems to be a real homo theme going on tonight. This however (unlike our camp friend Gay As Fuck) is a more solid, fluid work. 8
mona, my sweet classical beauty... i know.. i joke myself a lesbian, gay posts homo fantasies and horus speaks of a homosexual sage with hallucenations of a gecko.. perhaps
bestiality will be next with a sexual intercourse dream including lizards.
No, not really, my friend in Rome does this often. It's a true story & I wrote it as a tribute to him confiding it with me on the phone. We both are extremely agoraphobic, but he has a gecko infiltration problem. I wrote this a ways back, but it had been pegged with 8 zero's so I wiped it.
:/ is there still the possibility of the next poem having a subject including a sexual dream of intercourse with a lizard??
heh. dont mind my ramblings, im just twisted and slightly crazed. damn the 8 twat bastards that zeroed your beautiful piece which did strike me as a favorite.. gave me flashes of memories which i enjoy greatly.. heres a 10 to cherry the cake of green lizard pastry. tasty... 451 view(s)
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