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This kind of poem is called a pantoum. Do you see the pattern?

Liquified

In blistering heat haze you moved me

The shimmering pulse, oh, I cant bear it

And in a lazy shift my heart melts against the pavement

So tread softly now, and go home.

The shimmering. Pulse. Oh, I cant bear it.

As though each breath was filled with fluid

So tread, softly now andgo home.

I am withered, like the crone, spent, and tired.

As though each breath was filled with fluid

I gurgle in the gutter and whimper at your feet

I am withered, like the crone spent, and tired.

Stroked, by the sun, oh, leave me alone.

I gurgle in the gutter and whimper at your feet,

And in a lazy shift, my heart melts against the pavement

Stroked, by the sun, oh, leave me alone.

In a blistering heat haze, you moved me.

Kreeli, 2001
 

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Cheshire Girl

Ow! The way she strides across an ocean in paralyzing beauty!

The way she digs a thick hip into each of her steps

Im gonna fall over myself following her.

Woo, mama! Her stunning gaze is a binding contract!

Lids rimmed in dark black coal and languid blinks

Im ripped apart by her backwards glance.

Shee-it! Look at the way she leans across the sidewalk!

The hollow under her arm is shady, smooth, cool

Shes perfected the art of infatuation.

There! See how the city pauses around her; her body wades

Through a sea of malcontents, a Cheshire Girl

Her grinoh! The state Im in.

The state Im in.

OH.

The state Im in.

Kreeli, 2001
 

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gad. it's makes me really sad that kids still haven't learned how to treat each other with respect. that **** was going on when *i* was in school. it's good that you are able to see past all that and be her friend, LC.

this one is untitled.

he come steppin, shady-foot and sharp

optic nerve hangin from an angle off the stars

he come walkin, feather-finger and sneak

past all the frontline "D" fences i can strewed 'round my bare racks

so he come lookin, all flightless and debeaked

check me out when i go bloody-foot down

he come seein across vista and view

he got a good eyeball though i didn't flick open all the lights

he think he gots something, a jewel or a rock

it could fit in my mouth if i wasn't full of cotton bats

he think he gots a joy gem he can shove all down in me

but olafactory and taste, i don't let nothin fill me when i'm full

tell him he gotta get lost. just tell him he gotta go

his choco-macular orb and empty thoughts

make a dark world slow.
 
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