If you would like to aquire any of my creations, please contact me at smbryceart@yahoo.com

BR2002 - A Seussesque Poem

November 2002

All the Whozits and Whatsitz and Someonez and Snots

Gathered together and did lots and lots

Of naughty and silly, strange and fun things

Someonez were found tying Whozits with strings!

There were ponies and puppies and wee-giggelers too

Caged demons with horns like they lived in the zoo

Big Whatsitz with muscles

Angels missing their wings,

At Black Rose Convention I saw ALL of these things!

And even if *you* think "That's really enough"

I tell you quite plainly there was lots MORE of this stuff

A man named Fahkir and Lady Cleo Dubois

Did a spiritual ritual like no Whozit had saw

"Welcome home" said the Greeters blowing nice smelling smokes

And the razzletass hussle of Entererz broke

Drummers did drum, and shakers maked music too

For the circle of Dancerz to spin and soar through

Straining on fishing lines strung from their chests

By 11 guage hooks and a whosit lovefest

The Pullers did jerk and the Dancerz did spin

So a love and heal ritual could trully begin

There was so much that happened I can't tell it all!

But Snots, Someonez and Whatzits were having a ball

You may think it sounds strange, but I'll tell you quite clearly

Several Whozits were heard to say that it was nearly

The bestest of best, and wonderous too!

I even saw one thing that I never did knew

A beautiful Someonez in thigh high spiked heels

Whose leatherman heart makes grown Whatzits to kneel...

Did show me this one thing I now share with you:

If you step on a head or a chest or a snoo...

Or a pussy cat, neck, glasses, arm or tattoo...

There is sometimes a river of very deep things

And this very strange pleasure makes a Whozit soul sing

So I now end this story, 'BR2002'

With a big cheesy smile, and a "Sir I thank You!"

unholy members

7-24-02

Killing me slowly

your words and your lies

Your trembling thighs

seem to think

that into me you'll sink

but i don't remember

admiring your member

or any of your lowly

canoli types of lies

no not this time

This is no easy conquest

for your fucking contest

Look elsewhere mon fraire

perhaps to some playful hare

from your magazines

for that seems

to be all that you

can bare to do

thumping away

through the light of the day

And don't think your unholy

tool will slowly unwind my cloak

By your lies, mirros and smoke

Seeking entrance to my palace

With your oh so manly phallus

Will only cause my mallace

to show you just how callous

i can be

RUN BOY! FLEE!

The sprite

3-18-02

There's a poem running through my mind

And it's sprayin lime green silly string at me

There's a poem runnin through my head

It's shootin silly string

And laughin

Playful frolicking sprite

Bouncing off the walls, trapings, and confines

Of my limited experiance, and cluttered mind.

~

There's a poem running through my brain

And it's sprayin lime green silly string at me

There's a poem runnin through my head

It's shootin silly string at me and screamin

Shouting the same refrain

Over, and over...and over... and it says,

"There's an angle"

I can hear it laughing and shouting in my brain

Dancing Spiders

3-18-02

Sometimes you just gotta have a Bic pen.

A slender, not at all fancy, just the basics, pen.

Usually I type my poetry because words stream

From my mind faster than I can type, but

Much much faster than I can write

And I type fast. I'm told that my fingers just seem to fly.

Moving across the keys "Like dancing spiders" the boi says

As the words pour out of me onto the screen

And yes it's an electronic world we live in

But sometimes....

~

Sometimes you just gotta have a Bic pen.

The way it lays coolly in the crook between thumb and index finger,

Calmly waiting to be the vessel of words it is

Tightly clenched as I try oh I try to relax my hand

But the words just flow from within me and I have to get them down

I hunch over my notebook because every girl should have a journal

And mine always seems filled with scribblings about one thing or another

A piece of a poem here another there

And eventually they will be transferred into my computer for safe keeping and easy reading, but sometimes...

~

Sometimes ya just gotta have a Bic pen

You know the kind I mean don't you?

The white slightly opaque ones with the blue ink

And the cushioned place for those of us who grip it just a little too tight.

The way I grip my pen you'd think I was holding on for dear life.

Sometimes the tips of my fingers turn that odd lifeless shade of my pen

And usually those are the times that the pen comes alive

It takes on a life of it's own moving across the pages

Not as fast as my fingers fly over the keyboard, but a different rhythm. Sometimes a better rhythm and the words ebb and flow first fast then slow... and that's why...

Sometimes... ya just gotta have a Bic pen ;)

Castle Suena

2-24-02

Wide river rages before me

Cliffs drop steeply off behind me

The gates wide open,

Bridge tentatively crossing waters

And I howl.

~

She waits within my hallowed walls

Walks up and down my winding halls

She stands there waiting,

Scribbling madly in her little book

And I ache.

~

Cold wet rocks create my defense

Soft hands carress my cracked hindrence

She whispers softly

Understanding my joy and my pain

And I long.

~

Empty windows watch longingly

Wind howling through dark empty halls

Sees noone coming

Still she sits waiting and writing

And I scream

I scream

Longing for their dreams

Red Red Wine

written in 2001

My Love is like a fine wine leaving a sweet taste on my lips,

A fire in my heart, a desire unquenched,

The intoxication of Her floods my soul.

Would that I could drink till I get my fill of Her,

But a blessing such as this must be slowly enjoyed.

Each moment with my Love must be sipped. . .cherished

As we draw closer in love, yet so far apart

The breath of the heavens

Draws us near even as it flows between us.

Just as the luscious drink becomes more exquisite over time

Flavors mingling, blooming, deepening,

So our love will continue to blossom and grow.

My Love is like a fine wine leaving a sweet taste on my lips,

A fire in my heart, a desire unquenched,

The intoxication of Her floods my soul.