Forgot that reports cards are being distributed tomorrow

this will be funny.

Breathe

To hear what he thinks,
won’t make her heart rejoice.
she wants to hear what she thinks,
but, in a deeper voice.

-Noel

Quilted memories

Still trying to iron out the last of
the wrinkles in this custom made fabric
finally got the color just right
the feel is genuine and tailored
a piece of art spun from threads
collected over time
so far from basic beginnings
thrown about haphazardly
just a bunch of patches
lying about the room
until by revelation pattern seen
connections brought into view
seam by seam
along the way
a tangle here and there
many more before than of late
light bouncing off waves that seemed
like they’d never come out
silver stitching through clothes
of tattered and worn memories
some with the soft feel of velvet
others scrapped in terrible depictions of sand paper
all rimmed with the feeling of satin
and this quilt which has been creased by doubt
now lays baron, flawless in it’s lineage of love
on the cold ironing board.

-Noel

Wolves in sheep's clothing

They raise their kin on politics
preaching of a justice which we would one day see
all adored to the extent of their dreams
Yet they stole innocent lives over seas
wolves in sheep’s clothing
monsters to be sure
innocent lives destroyed in the homeland
of poverty and lack of refuge
wolves in sheep’s clothing
monsters come in all
shapes and sizes
laying down thousands of tax-payers’ dollars on weapons of war
salvaging every page of the bible to enforce their opinion
wolves in sheep’s clothing
monsters with green eyes and gray suited fir
hunting in packs to warrant the arrest of
patron saints whom pray to the lamb of god
paying no mind to the little dirt paths
which home the escape to bordered houses
where little black sheep graze in oblivion
and the shepherds of such flocks
ask these hunters
of the government
when is disability
not a disability?
when it’s social “security”.
wolves in sheep’s clothing
monsters which howl to the greed of the moon
and when is security
not security?
when you’re denied it.
when is denial
not denial?
when you fight to get what you deserve.
wolves in sheep’s clothing
monsters watching you, waiting at your window
to drag you by the hind legs
away from the nation of freedom.

-Noel

Big bad wolf

The big bad wolf can
Huff, and puff and blow,
This house ain’t folding.
It ain’t falling down.
If nothing else,
It simply gets stronger
Every time your kind come around.

Words as slender as obelisks
can slash down on the tar roof o’er our heads
and maple-tender kindness won’t be given back
we’re not so gullibly swine-like, you see
straw bales are too parasitic and
wooden sticks just won’t do it,
they’ll just catch on fire with a spark of curiosity

So let me ask you, oh pack of wolves
do you see any such creature in me
that you can hunt and toil with all winter long
until I become your apple-gagged succulent feast?
this is reality, and I may just obtain an initiative
to hunt you down, scalp you bare
and wear the hides of a fairy-tale beast.

Come hither, great dogs of the forest shepherd
and howl and moan at the steps of our door
huff and puff and blow this house down, not this time
this is the real word, not a moral folk lore
because us three pigs are keen and sharp
and we might just blow away your pride
we can play until you scamper back to the thickets
with your tails between your legs
you can run, but you can’t hide.

-Noel

I here I thought I couldn't write

these past 4 days proved to be very productive, very imaginative for me.

get ready for like, writing green at it’s finest tonight.

City under the sea

Land and sea rip
at the seam of the sandy shore
when yin and yang wave
in wrestling filaments
floating on dreams
winding their way through
rivers dark and green,
too deep to see
too clear not to be seen
rising mermaids in
blue and silver trim
fins iridescent closer to
the sun’s limbs rising into
springing waters catching
whirling spirals of
aquatic splendor
twisting into columns of
salty foam
pillars guarding the entry
to Atlantis
where the swordfish quarrel in glee
and the stars of luminescent reefs
light the underwater grottos
hollowed out with memories
seaweed adrift in the currents
which the sea turtles torrent
through the highways of the city
beneath the sea
our kingdom knots below the surface
beckoning, yearning for it’s king
and you, my queen
rise and fall with me
as sirens appear to sailors out at sea
sing abroad the waters
and love me.

-Noel

Internet ecstasy

I would write the perfect date
it would go down in internet history,
no doubt Youtube would be buzzing
of a video they’d like to see

It would indeed be a great story
here’s the date if you must know,
she knocked on my door at seven-
gorgeous babe for any poetic soul

She wore a red leather skirt
white satin top as well,
large hoop earrings, long dark hair
seductive smile could set off a fire bell

She wasted no time after dinner
was eaten at my place,
she drank a bottle of Merlot
dark desires lighting up her face

She wanted a bubble bath for two
got undressed fast, I will say,
held me against a wall, handcuffed me,
placed on her lap, in a gentle way

Said she loved to control men
loved to spank on a first date!
though she insisted she was a submissive
said she’d make the perfect mate

After an hour she let me go
red marks all over my rear,
insisted I have my turn
“Be aggressive, my poetic dear”

I undressed her except for her heels
tied ankles to wrists behind her back,
duct taped her mouth as well,
a natural woman, nothing did she lack

I read my unwritten erotic poems
that the room never saw at all,
she moaned, tried to get free,
in bed she is a real doll

I let her go, we had that bath
then we gently made love,
it was a night for poetic hearts
we fit each other like gloves

After she got dressed, she left
in the hallway, she vanished from view,
well now let’s be honest here!
it was a story as I told you ;]

And in homes all over the net
many have cheap dates in their mind,
still longing as they turn out lonely lights
for the perfect love they want to find

So you can imagine me to be a pervert
but you will never see the real me,
for I’m an old fashioned romanticist
a dark knight, writing wild poetry.

-Noel

Prideful seeds

Behind the facade of our big egos
we constantly do hide.
And pride of five letters
is only that; just “pride”.
And some will even tell you
pride comes before a fall.
From life we have been learning
from before we learned to crawl.
The thing we refer to as pride
is something not easily understood.
A little pride is necessary
but too much pride, not good.
Pride can lead to big egos
and snobbish self conceit.
A truly humble person
is one you don’t often meet.
The self opinionated and self conceited
they are never known to be rare.
Those who promote their egos
in the bigger World out there.
From the seeds of a big ego
success is often grown.
A humble quiet achiever
is one I have not known.
A little pride is necessary
and, self esteem, okay.
But too much pride can lead
to arrogance and that seems sad to say.

-Noel

Gossip

I broke a little promise to myself to get off from Tumblr until January, today. All because the temptation of gossip within my circle of friends runs a trafficing system like veins through the mass publication of Tumblr’s dashboard.

ah well, I’ll share what I made of the past 4 days, at least.

came back from trip away from tumblr

just to say to Christian and Sweden:

how dare you put me on the false alarm with the “awww’s” for Z and P.

how dare you.

Poetry in the archives

The patches within these pages
will wilt and die through out the ages
my words spin like silk over rusty hangers
half thought out with moth holes and ideas of strangers
these works of art, disaster and flaw
hanging in the archives to dangle raw
remember that I can not fight for love
and that a grove without romance can not rove
and that madmen play pianos and are locked behind cell doors
while lust is accompanied by sex on velvet floors
do not forget that 10 stood and 10 fell
and that racism and biased remarks sum up earth in a nutshell
keep in mind that love doesn’t come to those who wait
and that playing poker with the devil ain’t as great
that I am a loner and your best friend
and even though I can pretend
to not care and take pride in the smiles washed away in the sea
that you belong, without hesitation, with me
and though I am faulty and not what you need
we can change the world together with but one seed
and install it in the hearts of the damned and the wicked
and restore glory to the underdogs and convicted
Believe me when i say that I’ve been waiting for far too long
that i’ve reached the last verses to my playlist’s song
abide to the rules of devils dressed in white
because until we meet in the real world, honey, be prepared to fight
this is only practice, and the words which I say are fictitious an downright
disgusting, suave, beautiful and truer than true
because a writier’s inner inhibitions will remain mysteries to you
these are the archives of poetry left behind on my dusty shelf
keep what I’ve written in mind until slowly, it festers and wilts away-
to yourself.

-Noel

Mmmm, if ever you choose to keep in touch

IM me at writingreen.

I’ll post my last poem tonight,

until then,

with love.

-Noel

Mmmm, good bye Tumblr

I am done with the insecurities and misinterpretations-

find me in the real world; maybe then we’ll see a better tomorrow.