Tim Barrus Blog
Posts tagged with poetry
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I Never Sweep My Steps of Leaves
i never sweep my steps of leaves don’t trip leaning lightly on the memory that time we dodged the rain i held your wrists and and tasted your sybaritic mouth wet as a morning drowning in the lure of the sleep of tongues whose unspent hollow minutes walk down steps…
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sucking his feet like cock
i am not supposed to write this kind of juicy cock poetry because there are children around on the planet like flies/ we are required to dumb down reality for the mommies and the children always someone else’s children with the birthday cakes and pink balloons/ these people make me…
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house of gnomes
the gnome house in the distance sits on circumstance and bones/ the gnomes live there, in their passages through the earthen tunnels of the badgers and the bears/ whose fierce eyes and crawling dark against a sky that has disappeared/ like the hidden rooms smell of the kind of spitting…
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When Tricks Go Bad
this is the place where the earth does not spin/ it freezes/ everything goes slow motion/ you know you’re going to have to run/ usually it’s about something the trick insists he wants to do/ it’s his money/ he calls the shots/ the lost days are done/ the bitterness is…
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the jumping in
this time the jumping in has to do with sex/ you do mix it up with relationships and i am okay with that/ but i am not the point/ it’s not about me/ it’s about you/ it’s about all the jumping in/ i am here to tell you that i…
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Your Bride’s White Dress
white people do not think about hunger because they are rarely hungry and there you on the corner and the twisting it’s always worse in the rain and then you ache with sucking old white cock my summary of what is wrong with this picture the lips and teeth of…
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To Burn the Sky
dusk was difficult to burn the sky we thieves together, and the lovers and the friends they all too often cum slowly such moments like distant moons and stuff and lawns can fade in suicide’s revenge so complicit with the living and their first violent year of holding you naked…
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if they call me a girl
if they call me a girl one more time, i am going to start beating them up and you can’t stop me he said (this is where i have to decide to be appropriate or inappropriate who am i kidding i have never been appropriate) okay i said https://timbarrus.tumblr.com
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you split
the proper perspective through silence and then to be pulled away naked by the guards in fields you split into the wet wounds a death of fences https://timbarrus.tumblr.com/
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steps worn in autumn’s light
steps laid out flat by leaves of oaks and too many children up and down commissioned with troubles from beyond the horrors of their families who says families are sacred families must be watched by watchmen ready to snatch the damaged from the damaged if i am carried by rags…
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Whose Grip Undid the Screws
i fuck around a lot with the idea of identity, it’s like pissing on a sacred cow while the village sleeps and dreams of simple things/ grey as pain, the rules upon which reality itself is guarded by the armies of the roots whose consummate butchery has wrenched the doors…
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THE CAMERA SEES THROUGH YOU
the camera sees through you because the camera does not take photographs by itself it needs you it sees through you it uses you it needs you to pick it up it is only through you that the camera has any meaning or relevance at all it is through your…
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writ large
writ large scorched the you at every level your fingers on my tit tracing my hardly private sorrows i make a mockery of the habits of the sun lean and watch i am taking photographic evidence and writing poetry that takes sides that takes sides https://medium.com/@timotheebarrus
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dragged into the privacy of his smallness
mixed messages deep within the hole the lot of us live in where our real selves are like piano keys that get played inventing and reinventing our ragged perches up here in the branches with the crows https://timbarrus.tumblr.com
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gives one pause
he drives you crazy but your job is to be there for him not when he isn’t driving you miss sugar nut but when he is often, the world they know has rearranged the furniture he cannot understand that the room he is so dead set against is the same…
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Sail On
life has this habit of doing what it has done before round and round but beware there will be detours sail on
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Your Hands And Your Heart
i stole your insufferable wings/ dragging your heart through the ashes of my stars/ your hospital rooms on an empty china plate/ i would write your life, but plastic roses will not do/
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All The People You Are Bowing To
this tongue in blue scraped along the landscape of the rougher moons/ memories of the wolves who have fed from here/ sleeping naked in the autumn leaves, you always did scare the fuck out of them/ https://timbarrus.tumblr.com
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An Assumed Name
i never used my real name doing sex work, it wasn’t difficult becoming him, a withdrawal from reality and sleep among the tricks and the travelers who are your fathers and your brothers and your husbands and your sons, your friends and the people you work with and the people…
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Naked On the Internet
i always saw you as a prisoner in the striped pajamas/ more uniform than pajamas/ my own skin was no camouflage nudity my cock was always hard/ your blue was sheer obfuscation, not melancholy/ it had you by the throat/ slightly gaping, we both fucked the same sailors on the…
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When They Realize
when they realize that life is a fight for it/ all of life is a fight for all of it/ or whatever rush of it they can get a hold of and grab/ all you need are fists/ when they realize that i have survived most of what they continue…
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Having Lived With You
having lived with you/ for so many years, i kinda knew what it was you wanted/ what it was you liked/ in that orchestration of a silent language and other things tongues are for/ the darker planets of your delicious bed/ how sharply in it, your cistern just beyond those…
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You Wanted To Eat My Hole
you wanted to eat my hole turning tricks on the street in the rain usually meant someone sucking cock usually in the backseat of a car the one that drove twenty times around the block and it was too cold for your tongue in my shit hole so i told…
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bikerfuck
like the parking lot chimera you were you’d only fuck me on the bike in public it was the winter of the recent deaths, burning my hole in the growling of the emptiness schoolboys with cigarettes watching and pretending a degree of indifference if you are so i-do-not-care then, why…
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Running From the Past
stop pushing me my running from the past is mine your insistence that i not run from the past is abuse you are an abuser who relishes seeing people in pain and then you write about them and you spit in their mouths i don’t give a flying fuck if…