Romance Novel
I want to walk
inside of you
in the corner shop
of crimson visions,
feel your fingers
squeeze my pages,
touching silky words
of lust, feeling my spine.
Taste my words
with wild imagination,
strip my covers
spread open my center.
Trace your breath
along my phrases,
digest my juices,
take my virginity.
Make me feel
used and abused.
Let me out
of closeted bookshelf
of bare and exposed
leather skinned essence.
Don’t leave me forlorn
alone in the dust
Open me up wide,
expose my inner core
to sensual possibilities.
Time has taken its toll
On this library I call home
The cases are all dirty
And every shelf is bowed
But I still sit here waiting
While my pages turn yellow
I've told my story over again
More times than I could count
Now though my ink is fading away
And the words are hard to make out
But if I was taken off this shelf
I would be able to tell my tale proud
I know every letter on every page
And I've memorized each sentence
I would give up my glossary
Or even my appendix
For just one more chance
To be a reader's resplendence
But here I stay forgotten
My tale will never end
Though my corners are all busted
And my spine is cracked and bent
I'll stay put up on my shelf
With hopes to someday be read
Tight Binding
They let the dust settle
It grows thick on me
Because they placed me in the back
Where no one wants to be
It's cold, and it's dark
I feel so underrated
A good read
yet I am unappreciated.
Shoved in between
Overused spines
I've never been opened
You'll see no wear signs.
It would be so nice
Just to take a vacation
Away from this shelf
I could feel relaxation.
They claim that they need me
To stick around
Just in case another cover
cannot be found.
Sometimes I say I'll jump
And plummet to my death
But I am just lonely
And that's not worth expediting my last breath.
Adrenaline High
Feel like being a hero?
You'll do cool stunts, like...
Bust your ass sliding over the roof of a car to catch the bad guys.
You mean business, buddy.
You spit blood out like it's nothing.
You spit a tooth out like it's nothing.
Scrapes and bruises are trophies, and the ladies love the scars.
You get tons of respect.
You take no lip from no one because you're the one that's the fast-talking, wise-cracking Mofo in this story.
Everyone will respect you when you pull that silver, shiny revolver out, spinning it around to do those fancy gun tricks at the nick of time, and you've saved a life.
No one sees the clues you see. You have Detective Sixth Sense.
You are the new cop on the block, and everyone should quake in fear.
Please...pick me up from the shelf, partner. I need you as my partner. The other one died or disappeared...I don't know! That's why we need to do this thing! In honor of his memory.
I am brand new, with an adventure that will pump you up with adrenaline. You can't deny this case.
I am so bored on this shelf, even though I am around my colleagues and peers.
Doesn't my glossy cover excite you?
We will bicker at times but getting shot at will make us the best of friends.
Curious Little Book.
I sit on this shelf gazing over this place full of others like me.
I wonder if when they look at this shelf if I am what they see.
Will anyone notice me or do they already?
I sit still on this shelf with my spine to keep me steady.
Every now and then I get grazed by their fingers.
I hope to be taken to the noisy red light with the annoying little ringer.
When I hear that noise it will mean I am leaving home.I will be in the world writing a story of my own.
Romantic Novel
I long for your touch
To caress my pages
And bring yourself lust
I was not printed for all ages
So I hope you are steadfast
And find me locked up in these cages
My author had a blast
With the characters hidden inside
For who could think of such a cast
With just a few words on my side
How do I catch your attention
As true love will only grasp you from the inside
~ADayDreamWriter
Jealousy’s Revenge; For Poe Fans
HA!
Look at this blonde over here
In her long, down feather coat
And riding boots, what a fad.
Her knit beanie is alright...
Sits on her head like a monkey
Holding onto a jungle tree
For it's damned life.
The sling purse is sort of cute
Made of the same material
That I'm made of, leather.
Although my color is better.
She's smiling, looks kind of young.
Has a rock the size of Africa
Sitting on her ring finger.
Let her stay by romance.
I like the crying people
You know, the
"If hope has flown away"
Sort of thinkers.
They are the ones who
Understand the words
On my paper organs
Inside my withering skin.
I'm old, unmarried,
Maybe even unhappy.
But I just like to believe
That happiness is a curse.
Smilers are not allowed
To be near me.
I take after my father,
Sadness is reality.
The blonde is looking at me
She smells like flowers
Oh God she's picking me up
Get your fingers off my dust!
"Edgar Allen Poe,"
The girl gasps,
"It's signed."
I smile.
Didn't know
That a book like me
Could be so special
After all.
Never judge a book
By it's cover.
A Calculus Textbook’s Ruminations on Life in a Bookstore
I've been moved from my proper section, again.
This is getting absurd.
I've been at this sad excuse for a bookstore for ages. (Precisely 36 years, 5 months, 8 days, 12 hours, 34 minutes, and 48, no, make that 50 seconds).
If I have to move again I swear I'll perish.
Oh no. It's a tiny human.
Turn around, no no no do not come here.
Do not, no stop it.
It's touching me.
I've reached my limit!
I may vomit my pages out, I feel so disgusted.
Oh, lovely. I've just been ripped. This is the 185th rip now! I'm tired of it.
The grotesque being keeps touching me. Help, I'm being violated.
Oh, thank the author, I'm being put away. In the wrong place (does this look like the mathematics section you imbecile? No, it's the fashion section), but at least I'm not being handled so inappropriately.
Sweet relief, how good it feels. Everything is right in the world again.
I'm not in my proper place, my pages are ripped, but at least I'm not being abused by humans.
My companions seem to adore them, constantly trying to catch their interests.
I don't see the appeal. I like my place on the shelf. I don't like being disturbed.
Not again, another vile human is coming towards me. If he approaches, I may just throw myself onto his head out of spite. And I'm a heavy book, so it will hurt.