Challenge 97- Wax

[ATC]

Wax
n.

1.Any of various natural, oily or greasy heat-sensitive substances, consisting of hydrocarbons or esters of fatty acids that are insoluble in water but soluble in nonpolar organic solvents.
Beeswax.
Cerumen.
3.A resinous mixture used by shoemakers to rub on thread.
4.A phonograph record.
5.To increase gradually in size, number, strength, or intensity.
6.To show a progressively larger illuminated area, as the moon does in passing from new to full.

Waxen, waxing etc. are permissible. Waxwork, however, is not.

There you go. Make like the bees.

[TojesDolan]

It's not an experience matter.
It's the way conditions are set and marked.
It's the actions fulfilled to achieve a purpose,
The thoughts you have to predict my move.
All in all, it's searching for a strayed shock.
To expect the uncertain luck.

I can pretend,
Be the witness of your disdain against the weak.
I can pretend,
Become the design of your architectural plan.
I can pretend,
Be a tame beast sitting in your warm lap.

It's the fear of experiencing unsconscious sleep,
That keep me in awe, that keep me from dreaming,
In a land of pixies and fairies,
Where the coldest stars wax along a shimmering
burning moon.
A place where we don't care
For the bruises in our arms,
Or the broken letters we keep in our hands.

I can pretend.
Pretend that our lives can crash again.
Just once again.

[A_Perfect_Sonnet]

Cha.

[RunAmokRampant]

The Imagination Of Closure

I have managed, little Fawn.
You know I left in between the days like the owls
that grapple with the bending, twilight hour.
Their wings give freedom to flee the lavishness of dawn
while gravity staples me. I curse corrosive mouths
just like Yours. "It's too easy to fill in the gaps". A voice as sour
as yours, has a tongue gifted with a life of expected surprises.
A word of wax compromises

the day that's still not big enough for both of us.
But large enough as your eyes lash out to sing
a melody in staccato inspired gentleness.
Such a flirt is cliche. . . contagious.
So imagine, my feline, imagine the fall without wings
where surprises will catch you and confess.

[DFelon204409]

The melting point of wax means nothing to me

[CSD & the Soul Machines]

~Kendra~

Good morning dear, the dawn has kissed us both
Through muted tones, the sun will dry our clothes
With a yawn, we stretch our cramped and crowded selves
It's the time I cherish most
In the fall, through the leaves we'd rummage
Through fields full of wildlife and birds with colored plumage
If mother nature shows her teeth and cries the grass to sleep
We'll have a colored arc as homage

Isn't it wonderful?
Isn't this everything you've ever dreamed of?

I've seen Jesus here, where the rocks meet the coast
The altar made of flowers, where the willows bend and bow
Amongst the rows of green, we'll squeeze the vines and spill the wine
Give honor through this toast
The days will pass, the moon will wax and wane
We'll sleep as one, lift our spirits to the starry gaze
Blend into the galaxy, buckle Orion's belt and wrestle Ursa minor
And the sun will rise again

Let's be invicible
Let us start the world anew

[Dancin' Man]

Rap.
The written end lines are for the sake of poetry while the slashes show the functional end lines

The Reason Why Back Stoops and Soup Kitchens Were Invented

I’ve never known where the sun is supposed to rise
Never cared./
I know where it sets though,
I lived there./
I’ve got a map with a red x and black lines convening
On the center,/ the legend said we’re allied
Enter dragon lair/

Now I strap a GPS to my back so
I can calculate my position./
It weighs down my stance,
My posture’s negative
Disposition /
Is ignored for the sake of
Riding around the carousel/
With the hopes I’ll someday lift
Barbells/
To videos of trim women
Stair stepping/
I’ll need a couch so I can sit back,
Get wax spitting/

We get ripped for the sake of
Forgetting/
Every memory we've had about our moral's
constant tickling/
We'd cut of our legs if it means we don't have to walk/
But thanks to hunger pangs,
our bodies are already in shock/

For every car I’ve ever driven
I’ve wondered 10 states
In search of reason./
As they come, I interpret my thoughts on a basis of
mood, integrity and season/
It’s unreasonable to think that I should move/
I’m plastered to the spot here with Gideon
And Gulliver and that's the truth/
My mind runs marathons
Backwards, twist tied to steeples/
I sit on benches with men in suits collecting
Penance for past sins
While bickering into cell phones with other faithless people/
I’m here for the souls left over/
After those with lives
Get smitten by Russel Stoeffer/
I did that once
But now I’m dead/
I sleepwalk you’re pets to get/
Nickels and dimes and trusts/
So when your kiddies are sleeping
I invade the fortress/ - take my last paycheck
Morality here is cheap/ so I cash in on
Life’s greatest mystery/

We get ripped for the sake of
Forgetting/
Every memory we've had about our moral's
constant tickling/
We'd cut of our legs if it means we don't have to walk/
But thanks to hunger pangs,
our bodies are already in shock/

We hate roaming and eating cold meals
So me and the thousand gypsies call this place home/
We’ve never had a whole lot of
Come on in/
We’ll find you a bed
So you and a faceless hooker can spin/
Bottles at each other and sneak peaks at private parts/
On the internet these girls don’t have all the
Scars/
Well I’ll be, not once did you kiss me/
It’s alright she said
Your conversation was weak/
For every minute passed in the reddened dungeon/
I have to end up at another church
With other faithless souls sharing
A silent luncheon/
With other faithless souls sharing
Our worst memory over coffee and cigarettes/
With other faithless souls
Smoking stealing and building regrets/
With other Faithless souls
Grabbing preteens through backdoors/
They way they’re raised they’ll thank you Lord/
That second boy will be surprised/
She knows what happens when you
Rhyme thighs with cries/

We get ripped for the sake of
Forgetting/
Every memory we've had about our moral's
constant tickling/
We'd cut of our legs if it means we don't have to walk/
But thanks to hunger pangs,
our bodies are already in shock/

We’re never really getting out of here
But our bellies will grow/
As they eat up what we should already know/
About table manners, legal status and the pulling of hair/
Like I said before, this isn’t safe ground
It’s a dragon's lair/

[bowl of oranges]

This is the way you wish the world could feel.

If you ever talk to me
you better have the purest of intentions
and the most shining golden heart.
Else you'll melt under the pressure,
like a glorified wax model i've crafted
from a wretched unweilding block.

Yes i see you glimmer and shine, for now.
But remember you're a work of wax.
You can bend a little
but soon after there's no return
you will break.

Yes, you'll need my help.

So get down on those fragile knees
and promise you'll do me proud.
I'll scrape you from the floor
and set you back as one.
Back to the way i made you.

The way i'll always allow you to be.
The way you are glorious.

This is the way you wish the world could feel.

[SubtleDagger]

Absent Compass Roses

They all were gone and we were there
And I'd swear our eyes met, counted time
And lingered long on lonely rhymes, then left
To try and compromise the space.
Emptiness had always filled the place
Directions would stay late on through the night.

But we were lost and following
Our foolish footsteps, circles on
A map with no legend upon it. We knew
That dawn would never show its face.
Treading forward, always giving chase,
Discovering nothing but where we walked.

We knew that opposite us was the moon,
And so long as this star perilously loomed
Then north and south and east and west
Were doomed.

And she was a statue born of wax
With all her old flames closing in
To melt her sweetest paraffin. What would
A boy know of a cryptic key?
Romance was devoid of geography,
False continents forsaking bordered lines.

The stars were crossed, the planets gone.
The constellations left the skies,
Meandering in lullabies, and our
Eyes refused to see the light of day.
We longed for the celestial bodies' glow
To counteract the hardships that we'd know.

Directly overhead there shone the sun,
And our love would remain forever undone
Until north and south and east and west
Were one.

[Crimsonpunk]

I'm going to put some effort into this one...

[Disco Dragon]

...me too.

[ITRIEDVOODOOONCE]

yay wax, a noun

[super deluxe]

whacks!

[pixiesfanyo]

Untitled # 3

I watch an apple fall from a branch
Heavy with delicacy, splitting in its dive
Its core openly resting in frail air
I breathe in falters and moments contrived.
I shake, lost in light hairs above your navel
A moon poured hourglass makes me squint
Lashes spread with a still giggle
And whispered words leave shoddy imprints

I sleep, wake and find wax dry on my chest
Snow covering quietly with its white veil
Winter drips into your room unnoticed
Lost in this melody of timid contrails
Craters of lost harvest look above
Too a sky of faded oil and sand
I watch my chest unfold in the horizon
Gasp and clouds roll as my lungs expand

Wasting fruits
Wasting moments
Opposites castrate my mind
And I weep verbally into her open palms

[ATC]

The Duracell Bunny Wish List

All is as promised, waiting
In this epiphany. Trains,
Ringed electric eels, my very own
Heartbeat.

A suit of paint sighs by the door,
The Final Bar. Its ears
fall off at the trembling note; I step
Out the glass.
The sky has been promised.

So now,
I want to change the world the way Mozart did when he pissed on the moon.
I want to teach my heart to beat in 13/16. I want to learn to swim now
That everyone can walk on water. I want to turn into Christmas.

The past looks exactly like Jeane Dixon.
It's tea-time someplace warm. I can feel it wax
All the way through the power lines.

I want to fall down the nearest rabbit hole big enough to have me whole.
I want to blow six perfect smoke rings before breakfast. I want to have enough
Time to kill. I'm tired of Halloween.

[silenceevolves]

I'm melting, I'm melting... oh. Never mind.

Night falls.
Due to an error in his Memorial
Satellite System,
Certain things cannot be recalled.
But, there's distant echoes of:
"Holy **** kid, your cigarette is on fire."
And; wax figurines melting,
Reforming, and oscillating.

Day reincarnates.
He reenacts that drinking game,
Only faster and,
In reverse this time around.
He looks up- tile.
He looks right- tile.
He looks down- tile.
He stares into- toilet.
And the best thing about it all is
Remembering...
Remembering...
Well, something.

[xKONRADx]

I hope someone can guess what I was listening to while I wrote this. It's not the same style as that band, but some consistant imagery. You'll get bonus points.

Frankenstein


Peasants mass
Lightning strikes
Thunder claps
To widows' cries
Further the oaken floor
Farther the hearkened fall


Carmine moon
Echoes pitch and tar
While lights far off
Dance and breathe
I can't make out the master (Castor)
So I look within

We envy the skull
Sockets bright and full

Knotted bones
Born of God and scars
The blood produced
Purple tinted red
I can't make out a pulse
Hunt it down again

Peasants mass
Fork and torch in hand
The creatures mask
Wait to breathe
'til skeletons clash
Iron, ash, bone and wax

I'd like to think
I'm between the living and dead
While ivory struck strings
Haunt my love and hatred

I'd like to think
I'm between the living and dead
While ivory struck strings
Haunt my love and hatred

We envy the skull
Sockets bright and full

[Lowridenn]

I apologize for the length. If this piece conflicts with the rules, please let me know, so I can make it right.

- The Final Preparation of Sodium and Chloride -

Act I: Studies of [Saints and Scholars]

Enter pretty girl with tears in her eyes and blood on her hands.

Intoxication has become the ardent embrace
That cupid has exhausted for so long now…
[Excuses. I know…]

It wasn’t supposed to end like this:
The broken bones;
The bloody mess.
[The way you used to look at me.
You used to.]
Please understand,
The fist-sized organ played tricks;
A 0.92 solution of chemical paranoia.

For now I’ll just lie here:
In between the satin sheets that we graced for so long,
Using my saline tongue
[Sodium. Chloride.
Oh, how Chemistry has become so predictable.]
To heal your salted wounds.
I just wanted to feel your fingers
Scribble profundities across my back
For one last
Time.

Tell me, dear artist:
Do you understand mathematics?
Because I realize that for the first time:
This paper bag brings me no solace.

Enter bloody boy holding his arm like a sling.

[‘Don’t bother to say another word.’]

How does it feel, dear scientist,
To remove the heart of another nameless boy?

And once again, [Enter sarcasm] lover;
We find ourselves soft spoken
In the pluperfect calm between cries.


Why must you keep taking your
Metaphorical blade to my heart?

[i]Pause. Rewind.

Act II: The Saline Compromise

Enter girl walking towards the bed, younger, thoughts audible. Boy under covers.

[‘Pull me in under the sheets.’]

Your touch is so familiar yet so foreign,
As you trace your fingers across my back.
You remain an untangled mess of memories;
Of soliloquies…

I know the role;
I understand my lines all too well:
“Who would you like to be, tonight?”
[Maybe, Cinderella..?]

Your roaming hands speak in thespian tongues;
Like phantoms of figurines laced in white.

How does my sweat taste?

Can you feel the desperation in my half-beating heart?
Or in between my folded moans
Of want; of lust?
[Of something more than wax in repose?]

[Perhaps… are we too young?]

Her anger: The Thiocyanate Complex.

To think I once believed in the innocence
Those diamond-plated eyes had to offer.

A revelation:
I now realize that you are the serpent.

Act III: The Serpent

Forgive me, sly poet,
For our filament affair
Must end
Like
This.

Exit girl. A crumpled slip of paper floats to the floor.

Burn your letter, lover;
While tear drops burst in tangents of this faded apology
Dancing to the adagio pounding in my head.
This last night we dined on poetry and wine
Only to find you blinded by the siren’s screaming light.

I have nothing left to leave you.
[Perhaps my… perhaps not.]

I am nothing
But a bagatelle of information
A prism of words
A shimmer of consciousness
In the smallest ripple of time.

Footsteps in blue shift. Boy hides.

Act IV: We are but Satellites

Return to end of Act I.
Play.

Why must you keep taking your
Metaphorical blade to my heart?
Mathematics has fooled me once again.

Understand this, despicable poet:
The finality of mathematics
Has become more beautiful than anything
You could
Ever
Create.

Boy faces audience, and in an apraised tone replies.

In parting, I offer you my sadness:
My unintentional
And
Only
Masterpiece.*

Exeunt.

10.28.2005

*Final stanza:
Respectfully borrowed excerpt from
Nadir of a Cycle Named After Eros
- a poem by Reena (Saturnine Silence)

[Scarred4Life]

Nothing ruins the taste of peanut butter like unrequited love

The sky's a silent mistress
share a lover's tear
madmen roam the streets
in the city of good cheer
"I once thought a thought,"
(Reason he fed and fought)
"And then it all seemed so clear."

Waxen features melt
an expression of regret
Recall forgetten sins
misshapen silhouettes
"I'd swear that I know,"
(voices long long ago)
"the sun will always set"

Crescendo to the break,
The seconds inch away.
And the night walks ever onward,
to bed with cuckold day.
"Her soul I kissed"
(Smoke from his lips)
"And saw it stole away."

The sanguine tide embraces
the midnight and the shore
And ivory darts will mar
since conscience is a whore

Look beyond connotation
past the words she said.
Behind dillated eyes
he saw the black and red
"Don't think on it,"
(the words he spit)
"since all my heroes are dead."

[KeepingTheBlade]

It's a clarion absence of sound
that she inspired from a million points
a day of static baptized all around
impossible to capture in this moment
she'll leave after Christmas day.

The envy stays with every new year
another idea mistaken for forever
she leaves to disappear
and yesterday's plot hangs on cold,
just her element of choice

My ambivalence is taken to heart
as a flicker in the candle wax
plays out a scene
that glares into every frame
burning the eyes to define me

She won't make it pass the year...

And her picture siphons brightness from yesterday
afixed to envelope,
we tiptoe around the chance of a lie,
it bleeds from my mouth
a beg mistaken for a prayer

If only there was tomorrow...
I'd waive the right of certainty

[Crimsonpunk]

I went to a mental hospital
I couldnt tell who was who, the goons in white, or the fools in suits
you'd better, lock me up now
'cos I could murder every sip of every drink of every bar downtown

So when you see me shaking, as I walk down the street
Take heed, please remember, nito glycerin
Fuse bound poetry, disposable anthology
A wax injection, underneath my skin, to tame my inner beast

I see this city as a snowglobe, Lest the purity
It shudders, undercover, unaware of such fragility
I piss away the snow, in back alleys, I see my name in lights
They once were bright, and still pretend to shimmer, uninspired

I hide away from prying eyes, and yet I wish for glamour
I'd bury myself deep, if the lime didn't taste so sour
And sing my verse to worms, more interested in my flesh
Read the notes I wrote deep in my arms, but not in pen