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Array ( [sid] => 90568 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Number on the Bathroom Wall [time] => 2005-04-10 22:40:11 [hometext] => [bodytext] => I hear people say,
you're some kind of special.
What does that mean?
Do you turn out the lights,
when you want no light
to cast long shadows
into the long hours of the night
that becomes a morning of menial
small talk and a congenial brisk walk
across the campus with your wounded pride.
You act like you're some kind of special.
The way your hips rock
like a boat at a hurricane dock,
a bounce, a flair,
a casual glare
while you're climbing the stairs
to see you're not wearing
your underwear
to bed like you said
you wouldn't if I asked you nicely.
You look like you're some kind of special.
Tieing together sentences
like a bondage knot,
you tell me what not
to say to get you that way,
to turn you on,
to get you to sashay
a little to the left,
out of that dress,
out of your self,
and into this mess
that I confess is a little to messy,
like a breakup with your pregnant cousin
on Valentine's day.
You know you're some kind of special.
You got a reputation to uphold,
that you hold so dear.
You got a need to satisfy,
so you get into gear.
You pass lavender into an ear,
a breathless sigh, that happy ear
elates the body, maybe it's naughty,
maybe it's an urge, a hormonal surge,
you can't breath out the pent up sigh,
you can't let go of another guy,
you can't say no to the next guy
who'll call the number the last guy
scrawled all across the bathroom wall. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 150 [topic] => 64 [informant] => CodyJ [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous )

Number on the Bathroom Wall

Contributed by CodyJ on Sunday, 10th April 2005 @ 10:40:11 PM in AEST
Topic: ambiguous

I hear people say,
you're some kind of special.
What does that mean?
Do you turn out the lights,
when you want no light
to cast long shadows
into the long hours of the night
that becomes a morning of menial
small talk and a congenial brisk walk
across the campus with your wounded pride.
You act like you're some kind of special.
The way your hips rock
like a boat at a hurricane dock,
a bounce, a flair,
a casual glare
while you're climbing the stairs
to see you're not wearing
your underwear
to bed like you said
you wouldn't if I asked you nicely.
You look like you're some kind of special.
Tieing together sentences
like a bondage knot,
you tell me what not
to say to get you that way,
to turn you on,
to get you to sashay
a little to the left,
out of that dress,
out of your self,
and into this mess
that I confess is a little to messy,
like a breakup with your pregnant cousin
on Valentine's day.
You know you're some kind of special.
You got a reputation to uphold,
that you hold so dear.
You got a need to satisfy,
so you get into gear.
You pass lavender into an ear,
a breathless sigh, that happy ear
elates the body, maybe it's naughty,
maybe it's an urge, a hormonal surge,
you can't breath out the pent up sigh,
you can't let go of another guy,
you can't say no to the next guy
who'll call the number the last guy
scrawled all across the bathroom wall.

Copyright © CodyJ ... [ 2005-04-10 22:40:11]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Number on the Bathroom Wall (User Rating: 1 )
by girltranscended on Thursday, 5th May 2005 @ 08:37:59 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Let me be the first to say awesome image expressed here and what a fun one she is -sashaying across campus" The way your hips rock like a boat at a hurricane dock"
I especially loved this:

to turn you on,
to get you to sashay
a little to the left,
out of that dress,
out of your self,
and into this mess

A self described mess interests me and that bit flows so well. The very ending of the piece is strong as well and very well said.
The pregnant cousin line tho might just throw u off a bit too much , and I feel it detracts from the strength of the poem.

*decides yes, she's a new fan

:)

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