December 27, 2007 - Thursday
if
if you'd never have died
I'd never have…
divorced
taken a lover;
known the depths at which mercury
ignites
written a single poetic utterance
because
there never would have been
a reason
to break
or
to heal
December 24, 2007 - Monday
the weight of a man
sometimes her lover comes to her
in silence
reaching slow soft
a cold hand across cool linen
toward the too warm flesh
of her thigh
of her buttock
she has been sleeping
between his message
and his arrival
responds with her face
to the pillow
back arching
cooing as she turns into him
he's devouring her
mouth her
flesh her heart
and no matter how they love
to suck and tease
go down
she's wet slow enveloped
crushed
beneath his weight
as he's suddenly in her deep
with hope
it was Christmas
and she
was anywhere between seven and ten
the world
was a heavy weight back then
the floor of the garage was cold
but she was skilled at
Don't Touch the Floor
bottom step
and a leap to the dryer
landing heavy on elbows
and gut
nearly knocking her teeth out
and the next breathe
coming slow
the washer
the ladder
the dark attic
bare bulb
and the fear of spiders
yards of pink asbestos
and a thin plywood
path to creep along.
she was determined
didn't understand
the world would always win
Christmas and holidays
faded when she
the third child came along
and no one really mentioned it
the tree
that year
but that girl
looked upon it
brightly
with hope
December 23, 2007 - Sunday
a thing larger than you
sometimes
a thing is larger than you
your intent
your desire
your control
it is a thing of madness
and flesh between teeth
and it will have its way
and you will live
with a pained heart
to have it.
December 20, 2007 - Thursday
brightly
her thoughts flitter in
and of the sun
brightly
December 17, 2007 - Monday
obliesque
Thought I saw you in the crowd.
You were
heavier
happier,
cheering me on.
But it wasn't you.
I thought for sure you would have
messaged;
we had been talking so often of late.
then I realized the last few weeks
you weren't there.
Twenty years and it took me
sixteen to actualize
that you weren't there
and now I never notice.
It's only natural
that you didn't message
though,
because
neither did he.
December 14, 2007 - Friday
mes amis, mon coeur
lend my sorrow to the pen
for joy
entrust I, heartfelt, to friends.
December 12, 2007 - Wednesday
come too soon
and the music filled her mind
as if it were years before
her hearing started slipping
and she wept
the entirety of the song
then put the thing away
afraid she would lose it all
too soon
some things come too soon
time saw me to where I am and will see me further
I rarely speak of some things
they were overcome long ago
and have become my story –
a liturgy of past emotions that
no longer can be recalled;
I was an at risk youth, but
as my father's father said
"you know where
you can find sympathy?
in the dictionary
between shit and syphilis"
I am also perseverant
so a fifth year in high school,
(diploma, not GED)
sixteen years married
four divorced
seventeen off and on in college
twenty-two earning a wage
busting my ass for the man and bills;
time saw me to where I am
and will see me further.
December 9, 2007 - Sunday
in this limbo
pressing hard
shoulder to door
she lifts the drill
most screws come away
easy
some not at all.
but there's the hammer
daddy bought
last time he came home
and the chisel;
he shopped for her
got her ready –
painted ceilings, set tile
– ready to sell that life.
but this is another
not quite home
but good – for now.
she pulls the pins
wonders how
stripped screws
will come loose later –
she'll wonder later.
the doors
they lift away easy
to her surprise
so heavy –
everything is heavy here
– walks them out.
looks at the walls
floor, ceiling
cracks
everything that will keep
her busy
in this limbo.
December 7, 2007 - Friday
of the sun in half light
there comes
a time
of day
when she draws
the shades
tight
warmed
by the glow
of the sun in half light
she dreams
of the weight
of a man
pinning her
down
sets a picture – left
video – right
and moans
even when she comes
alone
December 6, 2007 - Thursday
on leaving a lover
on the last count
of a deep exhalation
when the exhalation
can go no further
you pause
far too long
next breathe in
and on the out
come the tears
you let go.
December 4, 2007 - Tuesday
clarification of non-rhetorical questions posed to a friend
I want to know how you're doing
and wonder...
how mercury fares of late?
and want to ask if you are living
without passion
and if so...how could you?
(in almost accusatory haste
and nose turned up, distaste
but more in abject observance
I entreat sincere.)
it seems
to be your very nature,
much as it is mine…
December 2, 2007 - Sunday
without love
time
I became
what you thought me –
harden my heart
shore my body;
keep
my sites on school
energies
the magazine
the kiddies who
can't spell
and writing
and editing
home repair
my life is so full
as is
yours –
useless : wasted
without love.
December 1, 2007 - Saturday
December of my heart
breathing deep
sweet damp;
cloying incense I bought
because it's called Rain
and smells like clean
laundry and
wood smoke
the day is gray and deep
flora greens
and browns, fauna
as they burrow, dig
My Lady Cardinal
braving for seed
along the creek bed I gaze
yellow speckled
haze
cheeks flushed
of fever
of up too late
and sleeping
too long and restless
writing, murmurs
but it is December
of my heart
sore and seeking
forgiveness for loving
where I do.
November 28, 2007 - Wednesday
celtic lear
oh take me back
when our love
in the night
came through to morning
and we lay
limb and limb
stretched 'cross the sea
oh my love
I truly know
what dreams are made of
and I want
them for you
though sweetly tear they
my heart from head
yes I know
what dreams are made of
for I once hoped
they were made of
you and me.
came the way on a breeze once
girl from Texas
came the way
on a breeze once
steel-bore not hollow
and she asked a man
for a lift, said
"hey man, got dollar?"
gave him twenty
then set to walkin'
mind a wonderin'
November 27, 2007 - Tuesday
snow fell
snow fell
by the wayside
in the gutters
off the highway
on treetops
up the mountains
and I in a haze
for days, existing
forgetting
Dad's emphysema
my anaphylaxis;
the calm
of the slowing
of the breathing
of the beating
of the heart
chill winds
and my lover
leaving soon.
November 23, 2007 - Friday
she’s a leaver
she's a leaver
no, not again
fought too long
in solitaire
she came strong
will never fight
for you to stay…
mind off in circles
she'll confound
when she bothers
to come round.
it's just her heart
it has a wall
ten or twenty
fourscore feet tall
she's just a giver
wants the same
makes her a leaver
November 21, 2007 - Wednesday
untitled
sometimes
a girl just...
November 18, 2007 - Sunday
where moths dream of dying
Someone told me today
that moths are drawn past the flame
toward the absence of light.
I only know that I am cold.
November 17, 2007 - Saturday
another little ditty
all of life should be
a tease...and days
lived in passion felt
if not actualized.
November 14, 2007 - Wednesday
not that i’m a daddy’s girl - repost
Saturday, May 26, 2007
not that i'm a daddy's girl
Remembering my first car
a '78 Audi Fox, standard;
that was before 5 gears
and before power steering;
the timing began to slip
early on and my Daddy
showed me how to set it.
I miss my Daddy,
trailing behind him Saturdays
like a pup in need of petting.
He taught me my independence
I got them through his genes.
Not that I'm a daddy's girl
but I am my father's daughter –
strong or at least perseverant.
November 11, 2007 - Sunday
and i having let him
we lay a tangle in the night breeze
my lover and I,
ear pressed close to his heart
and he spoke soft
of news, big news
in six months he would go
a different city, different state
he was restless, had been.
are you crying, he asked me.
yes
oh, he says, having finished
his cigarette and pulling me close
I want you to go
but I will miss you.
this time, I did not ask him to stay
never had he asked me to go
he doesn't know what he wants
he loves me, but…
this man, the one
who broke my heart with bliss
for hours, months
and I having let him.
be your bliss
sometimes we look for a thing
to force an issue undisclosed.
I had one once, he was bliss
and I knew I could not keep him.
tonight I wear my boots
must be fifteen years old by now.
but they remind me I can stomp
on things before they stomp on me.
that I have the grace not to
and the compassion in my heart
to lean close and listen, be your bliss
and turn away soft when you go.
November 8, 2007 - Thursday
lend you solace surely
sing to me your song
bring to me your need
smooth your brow will I
lend you solace surely
for all my life is fluid
and blessed, be it brief
or long with your sighs.
November 6, 2007 - Tuesday
for me it was summer
for me it was summer, June
and I had recently resigned myself
to a life in a two-ringed prison
I thought I could step outside
my head and then carry on.
but it was the heat of summer
the death of my brother
had brought things to light.
and my own desire as much
as the attraction was more
than I could sanely bear.
at what point is fidelity breached?
intercourse, touch, nudity, a kiss
conversation, conscious thought.
I cannot say for you, but
for me it was summer, June…
and I had recently resigned myself
to a life in a two-ringed prison
November 3, 2007 - Saturday
days of other seasons brief
Along the way
home I saw not
a slow fade
into sepia…
but tops of trees
in sienna's bleed
and sprigs
of gold canaried
leaves along
the path…
Texas, my Texas,
I do revel
in your passion's
deep heat, summer
yet on occasion
you do thrill me
with days
of other seasons brief
of (spring) and fall
but of a pleasure
recalled fondly
on the morrow
of winter's cold damp.
October 30, 2007 - Tuesday
some less than four
it's a strange thing – the
mathematics of attraction;
my intellect rarely piqued
libido less so than more
when I say lovers I wish
one a week one a month,
one a year is nice
but plural can be two
and some less than four,
still, they were lovers,
men I adore(d).
October 29, 2007 - Monday
brightly burning
One day I was fifteen
and the next, middlin thirties
goin' on forty
with a whole lot forgot;
some years draw blanks
the good ones so far
and few between
shadowed in your anger.
Others I can still taste
and smell and touch, cold
those were the hard years,
the scarred ones.
My husband I will call
no other, seeking lovers
brightly burning
stay they brief or stay
they long, they bleed me
days, never forgot for
I am whole again if ever
I was, but I am whole
neither shadowed
nor withholding.
October 26, 2007 - Friday
beneath flesh
sell my soul
for a dollar
though I know
it's just to get by
eat and pay bills
and these trappings
surrounding
suddenly fetter
freedom…
I want to live
in the mouth of madness
swallowed whole
and swim through
your eyes deeply
just wanna walk
barefoot through the fields
and mud and stuff
and lay
beneath flesh
cool yet warmed
I know this life will kill me
but I will treat it
like whore.
October 25, 2007 - Thursday
crazy come along
she walks a little to the left
sometimes making
lemon squares
half confused
half the time
but makes do
all that she wants
she wants
in crescendo
ooooooh
crazy (all night) lover
come along
give her hours of madness
to dream about
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
backlog
October 23, 2007 - Tuesday
speachless in the face of madness
speachless in the face of madness
she keeps searching for a song
a phrase to encapsulate...
this thing where her own words fall short
October 20, 2007 - Saturday
Valhalla seeks Ragnorok near the sea
Of a chivalric nature, one slim hand goes to the Vorpal blade sitting low on her hip. She is ready for the snicker-snack.
"Ragnorok!" she attempts to bellow but belays a soft, sweet voice that warms his soon November heart. The land shivers at her promise.
And Ragnorok is struck by the fire about her very being, the shimmer of a once thought dead craving. Too long has he dwelt in the construct and confines of man, tamed, broken.
"She will slay me," he whispers "she will have me as she wills."
Valhalla stands firm on the little hill left when the moat was dug and looks past his walls, out to sea and in deep consternation. Turns quick back to him.
"Ragnorok!" I will free you.
October 18, 2007 - Thursday
the Zipper
Couple years ago at Oktoberfest we were all supposed to meet up but I couldn't find my friends. The celly-thing wasn't getting reception; no call in, no call out, no messages.
Resourceful blonde-gone-red chick that I am, I proceed to find beer and sausage – on a stick. For those of you that don't know, half a beer makes me tipsy. So roughly two and half beers in a commemorative glass mug…and I was entertainment for those passing by. You'd think they'd never seen a drunk chick trying to get a 12-inch sausage in her mouth.
Now I looooooooooooooooove me some carnie rides, so what does any self respected drunk do?
AWAY, BATMAN!
The Zipper…dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…
Carnies don't always have the Zipper and it's my favorite ride. (Shut up you guys…) so I was almost pee-in-my-pants happy.
Alone
in the middle of the basket
hanging on to both sides
whoopin' and a hollerin'
and I look over as always
and find
holes where screws go.
I swear there's only one Zipper
in the whole goddamn world…
whoooooooooooooooh!
yeeeeeeeeeeeee-hawwwwwww
come on babyyyyyyyy
and I was laughin' wild
until dizzy, the basket opened and
and the carnie fella says
"wanna go again?"
and I says "hells yeah!"
and in steps a boy…
his friends just in from Monterey
don't ride rides, he says,
and flips his wrist…
so Migeulito and I rode rides
all night, laughed, drunk…
and the Zipper?
May my life always be
that wild ride.
spacecadet log - stardate gazillion-01
pressure in main cabin is nominal. patched a hole with trident and duct tape. seems to be holding. note to self; watermelon works best.
the days are blurring. sleep patterns are off. bored with porn. must be a flu. Feisty Boy Elektra Two; The Fu Manchu Series is sick as well. his scales are gray.
four years since evolving. still in bright shiny limbo. wants the bright shiny.
tomorrow experimenting with paste. minty.
she awakes at four a.m.
four a.m. again
there's grit in her eyes and
she feels like a one night stand
like she's been one
not like she needs one
only that doesn't make sense
and she wonders
if the neighbor's smoking pot again
and if it's pulled through the A/C
her mind came away
last week
into a warm soft thrill
snapped her nose right off
the grind
it left her dazed
it's sudden absence
leaves her dazed
she awakes at four a.m.
wondering
why did she go there…
speachless in the face of madness
speachless in the face of madness
she keeps searching for a song
a phrase to encapsulate...
this thing where her own words fall short
October 20, 2007 - Saturday
Valhalla seeks Ragnorok near the sea
Of a chivalric nature, one slim hand goes to the Vorpal blade sitting low on her hip. She is ready for the snicker-snack.
"Ragnorok!" she attempts to bellow but belays a soft, sweet voice that warms his soon November heart. The land shivers at her promise.
And Ragnorok is struck by the fire about her very being, the shimmer of a once thought dead craving. Too long has he dwelt in the construct and confines of man, tamed, broken.
"She will slay me," he whispers "she will have me as she wills."
Valhalla stands firm on the little hill left when the moat was dug and looks past his walls, out to sea and in deep consternation. Turns quick back to him.
"Ragnorok!" I will free you.
October 18, 2007 - Thursday
the Zipper
Couple years ago at Oktoberfest we were all supposed to meet up but I couldn't find my friends. The celly-thing wasn't getting reception; no call in, no call out, no messages.
Resourceful blonde-gone-red chick that I am, I proceed to find beer and sausage – on a stick. For those of you that don't know, half a beer makes me tipsy. So roughly two and half beers in a commemorative glass mug…and I was entertainment for those passing by. You'd think they'd never seen a drunk chick trying to get a 12-inch sausage in her mouth.
Now I looooooooooooooooove me some carnie rides, so what does any self respected drunk do?
AWAY, BATMAN!
The Zipper…dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…
Carnies don't always have the Zipper and it's my favorite ride. (Shut up you guys…) so I was almost pee-in-my-pants happy.
Alone
in the middle of the basket
hanging on to both sides
whoopin' and a hollerin'
and I look over as always
and find
holes where screws go.
I swear there's only one Zipper
in the whole goddamn world…
whoooooooooooooooh!
yeeeeeeeeeeeee-hawwwwwww
come on babyyyyyyyy
and I was laughin' wild
until dizzy, the basket opened and
and the carnie fella says
"wanna go again?"
and I says "hells yeah!"
and in steps a boy…
his friends just in from Monterey
don't ride rides, he says,
and flips his wrist…
so Migeulito and I rode rides
all night, laughed, drunk…
and the Zipper?
May my life always be
that wild ride.
spacecadet log - stardate gazillion-01
pressure in main cabin is nominal. patched a hole with trident and duct tape. seems to be holding. note to self; watermelon works best.
the days are blurring. sleep patterns are off. bored with porn. must be a flu. Feisty Boy Elektra Two; The Fu Manchu Series is sick as well. his scales are gray.
four years since evolving. still in bright shiny limbo. wants the bright shiny.
tomorrow experimenting with paste. minty.
she awakes at four a.m.
four a.m. again
there's grit in her eyes and
she feels like a one night stand
like she's been one
not like she needs one
only that doesn't make sense
and she wonders
if the neighbor's smoking pot again
and if it's pulled through the A/C
her mind came away
last week
into a warm soft thrill
snapped her nose right off
the grind
it left her dazed
it's sudden absence
leaves her dazed
she awakes at four a.m.
wondering
why did she go there…
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
it's called crush cause it hurts
she don’t smoke
she don't smoke
but the quite faint scent
of cigarettes and herb
on a man's collar
on his cheek
on his flesh
drives her mad
October 16, 2007 - Tuesday
clinging wet to my calf
water pressure billows
the curtain in
clinging wet to my calf
and I am out of soap
use the tea tree
that sucks the moisture
from my body
but I am a writer now
making things last,
worry, no insurance
and getting by.
in conversation
with my father
he offered to send money
I said let's see, wait
till I get there
and he said aw baby…
he muffles a cough
I muffle a weep
daddy…
all this time
and he never said
he needed a daughter
I never asked
for a father
all those years
but they got me here
here, I am here
now.
what she wants
is this the point where she waits
lets him call?
only brief came the thought
wild heart
beating
off
she forgets
and picks up to dial
she may not know what she wants
but wants to get it
October 15, 2007 - Monday
she takes lovers
My first bit of advice on ending
a marriage poorly; don't. But
sometimes the world skews,
the subconscious knows…
She was
thirty-three.
married sixteen years,
to a man stood third in a short line.
She was not new to men
She was new to herself.
He was,
one tall drink of water,
her first lover,
always ready
six steps before they touched
and swallowed her whole.
October 14, 2007 - Sunday
starlight accross oceans
never let your chi go
your power
never to another
it cheats you both
and death comes too easy
to waste a day.
I have set with death
watched his eyes wide
pleading, accusing,
and he may chase me
through fields of flame
and he may catch me
but not before I trail-
blaze starlight
accross oceans.
the rate at which things burn
four-twenty a.m.
woke up groggy
sometimes admitting to a thing
makes it okay
and this was just
light
laughter.
and suddenly
I am
splintered
sometimes acting on a thing
gets it out of your system
or spurs
an addiction
maybe
I just like
to test
the tensile strength of flesh
to know
the rate at which things burn
and
break
October 12, 2007 - Friday
the will to hold it/was
we burned in fire
that was bright white
but splinter in the limbo
in the distance
in the separation
that feeds you
be assured, it is not the
love that fades
but the will to hold it
to hold you, and the need
my body was made
for man, my heart
for love, my soul to give
my being to consume.
perdu
sometimes, I think
in soft soliloquy
and bad snippets
of French and Japanese;
it is not so much
the word's form as
the specific syllabic
utterance, quand
je suis perdu,
but not that, I meant
to say tread soft
and with deliberation
or tread not at all.
October 9, 2007 - Tuesday
we left things undone
I am suddenly haunted by the past
things left half said
panties drenched
corsets left half laced
a day when I was a girl, young
of fifteen or sixteen, and
a boy that made me curious
my first taste of
sucking on the tongue of rebellion
he was smug
attitude
a broken wing
shipped off to military school
where are you,
we left things undone…
September 22, 2007 - Saturday
time in me
please come, O Yule,
my Januare to sooth,
renew me in faith
this life no longer
spent in recourse
but burst forth will I
on the tundra, plains
and cities in quest;
soon my life soon
will it stretch lean
and languid, soft
of a brave new peace
invest time in me.
September 19, 2007 - Wednesday
the greater power
sweetly you beg
me not to cry
and I am lost in the moment
lost to the world
lost in you
you control the staying
I the leaving
perhaps I weep
for possession
of the greater power
as well as in want of you
life was easier
when I could walk away
without regret
and didn't stay
she don't smoke
but the quite faint scent
of cigarettes and herb
on a man's collar
on his cheek
on his flesh
drives her mad
October 16, 2007 - Tuesday
clinging wet to my calf
water pressure billows
the curtain in
clinging wet to my calf
and I am out of soap
use the tea tree
that sucks the moisture
from my body
but I am a writer now
making things last,
worry, no insurance
and getting by.
in conversation
with my father
he offered to send money
I said let's see, wait
till I get there
and he said aw baby…
he muffles a cough
I muffle a weep
daddy…
all this time
and he never said
he needed a daughter
I never asked
for a father
all those years
but they got me here
here, I am here
now.
what she wants
is this the point where she waits
lets him call?
only brief came the thought
wild heart
beating
off
she forgets
and picks up to dial
she may not know what she wants
but wants to get it
October 15, 2007 - Monday
she takes lovers
My first bit of advice on ending
a marriage poorly; don't. But
sometimes the world skews,
the subconscious knows…
She was
thirty-three.
married sixteen years,
to a man stood third in a short line.
She was not new to men
She was new to herself.
He was,
one tall drink of water,
her first lover,
always ready
six steps before they touched
and swallowed her whole.
October 14, 2007 - Sunday
starlight accross oceans
never let your chi go
your power
never to another
it cheats you both
and death comes too easy
to waste a day.
I have set with death
watched his eyes wide
pleading, accusing,
and he may chase me
through fields of flame
and he may catch me
but not before I trail-
blaze starlight
accross oceans.
the rate at which things burn
four-twenty a.m.
woke up groggy
sometimes admitting to a thing
makes it okay
and this was just
light
laughter.
and suddenly
I am
splintered
sometimes acting on a thing
gets it out of your system
or spurs
an addiction
maybe
I just like
to test
the tensile strength of flesh
to know
the rate at which things burn
and
break
October 12, 2007 - Friday
the will to hold it/was
we burned in fire
that was bright white
but splinter in the limbo
in the distance
in the separation
that feeds you
be assured, it is not the
love that fades
but the will to hold it
to hold you, and the need
my body was made
for man, my heart
for love, my soul to give
my being to consume.
perdu
sometimes, I think
in soft soliloquy
and bad snippets
of French and Japanese;
it is not so much
the word's form as
the specific syllabic
utterance, quand
je suis perdu,
but not that, I meant
to say tread soft
and with deliberation
or tread not at all.
October 9, 2007 - Tuesday
we left things undone
I am suddenly haunted by the past
things left half said
panties drenched
corsets left half laced
a day when I was a girl, young
of fifteen or sixteen, and
a boy that made me curious
my first taste of
sucking on the tongue of rebellion
he was smug
attitude
a broken wing
shipped off to military school
where are you,
we left things undone…
September 22, 2007 - Saturday
time in me
please come, O Yule,
my Januare to sooth,
renew me in faith
this life no longer
spent in recourse
but burst forth will I
on the tundra, plains
and cities in quest;
soon my life soon
will it stretch lean
and languid, soft
of a brave new peace
invest time in me.
September 19, 2007 - Wednesday
the greater power
sweetly you beg
me not to cry
and I am lost in the moment
lost to the world
lost in you
you control the staying
I the leaving
perhaps I weep
for possession
of the greater power
as well as in want of you
life was easier
when I could walk away
without regret
and didn't stay
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
just a girl
faith comes
hard on the heels
of distance
and she
is just a girl
after all
with a little
heart sore
and a thirst
for more
to this moment
In all my life never
did I want, allow need
yet at that first gaze
I would have you.
You, the final catalyst
to break my core/soul,
spark the fire aglow
throw my vows to hell,
to my becoming;
bright eyes and wild
you gasped like a child
in wonder at my mouth
devouring
and I high
on the thrill of finally being
desired
wanted
wanton
free.
Funny how the years
pass and I recall...
you, my lover once
upon a time that led me
to this moment
and to another.
September 7, 2007 - Friday
soured on a life
my husband
remember how we dreamt
dreams
of the land and the sea
no purpose save to live
those dreams
come again
on the tips of a tongue
soured on a life
that would break me
if I were not so
goddamn ornery
and hell-bent
September 6, 2007 - Thursday
look upon bright
fleet of foot
and slight of mind
oh flee thee
never-boy of summer
take this heart
a weary
to the shore
and cast it's ash
to wind;
breathe my bones
let them lodge
in lung, dust
forgive my need
come to me
ever is the silence
frightening
on the morrow
deafening
do I ponder
yet look upon bright
journeyman
this life, oh
it been a long time
coming
and I will walk the valleys
and I will tread the shore
and I will swim the rivers
in search of
transcendence
Valhalla
ever more
ever more…
once we were young
once we were young
my sister
brother
and I
before drugs
before death
divorce and dreams
torn asunder
yet never were there bonds
strong enough
to keep us alive
to ever see us healthy
in the care of one another;
what great expense
life and soul
and how very long
it takes to mend
September 4, 2007 - Tuesday
manna from God
Gonna be one of those years
when food is made for the week
and tea bags get used twice
when chicory instead of coffee
is relished as frivolity
consumed as a food group
and breakfast is a fist full
of vitamins and cheap carbs.
These are lean days in Texas
in the south, in America
when getting by on a dime
is our most frequent dream
and our debt, manna from God.
some things don’t get said aloud
some things
don't get
said aloud
don't get
articulated
are never
written down
but they
are in my heart
on my mind
on my conscience
August 30, 2007 - Thursday
on my writing
sometimes they are not words with meanings, only the syllabic utterance of a string sounds, an affectation of the heart
August 30, 2007 - Thursday
love song for t.c...breathless
crazy-wet
for a boy the taste
of freedom made of lightness
and deep caress that blushes
her bright smooth peach
and leaves her
breathless
August 21, 2007 - Tuesday
i am consumed
I reach for stars
fill my days with it
seek to devour dreams
to exhaustion - okay
that, my friends, beer;
but I hope you know
you are my everything,
you are my love, my
passion, the swelling
of my heart midst
blushed twilight.
August 19, 2007 - Sunday
to know me is to always
I walked the hall one time
about the rooms pacing
head hung low, tilting back
and forth , hand on nape;
love and grief it creeps
through cracks it seeps
and I am far away oft
to the future where I will
never hurt you, the past
where he pleads for life.
My love for you reminds
me of my grief for him;
neither will I ever let go,
both, my life have altered.
To know me is to always
let me hold him, grief
a glistening in my heart
and joy for you ever
on the tip of my tongue.
August 17, 2007 - Friday
but as such, he is free
The old guy asleep in the grass?
I thought about dignity and
how the world once was
what we've become; I cried
not quite mighty, more
in the way of suadade; things
mourned though never realized.
Vagabond he may be,
but as such, he is free.
It rained later that night
brief but fierce.
I wondered if I should
walk the bank, scout the creek
but much like mother and
her fading away
do I really want to know?
August 16, 2007 - Thursday
what we’ve become
There's an old guy asleep in the grass
and I am at once both afraid and ashamed;
my sense of security weighing hard
against concern and charity.
I question my decision to move here.
My decision and yet to admit
I am not infallible, never claimed to be.
My strength and sense of responsibility
derived more from the need to persevere
than any sense of leadership; I cry,
not from lack of knowing what to do
but more for this day and age
that places me in this dilemma
I return to a time and place
when I was barely four and wept
perhaps some seed from past living;
wept for the downfall of man
though I had not words then
now perhaps I can finally claim
I cry for what we've become.
Strange that I was reading Rumi today,
"People of the world don't look
at themselves, and so
they blame one another."
I blame no one, I just cry,
not sure what to do.
July 25, 2007 - Wednesday
shameless my lust for you
this morn I dressed
with care; black lace
under a black dress
I had pulled from the back
of barely worn things
slim, deep-cut, snug –
provocative – I cooed
and purred along the way
the image of you in my bed
provoking me to shout
silent, glow smug
all day simpering soft
for anyone and everyone
to know I came away satiated
it was near four
when your plea came
do you know
I adore the way you ask
demand – and I never
saying nay, embracing
shameless my lust for you
we slept little till the alarm
I deep though brief;
you reaching out
in half slumber
to grasp my sex
in your hand madly
getting me off then
a slow fade to slumber
drousily still aroused
I turned to spoon you
pushed up on feathered air
arms devouring you,
lean, tan, young
my mouth relished
your nape, your collar
that valley 'tween
shoulders I so covet,
until you turned on me
hard, demanding
and I took you, let you
July 24, 2007 - Tuesday
what once was darkness, now bright laughter
one
way I suppose would be to
refuse to acknowledge the thing
let it grow restless and move away
this from
a Japanese flick I thought profound,
called "life taste good"
notice the odd vernacular
another,
way of dealing is that
once I find the source
I can manage it
this from one of the
things I seek to understand
he is beautiful, bright, and distant
in his unsurity
notice…I make up words when
I can think of no other to suit
more likely,
I will ponder the issue
think of all options open to me
beat it to a bloody pulp
and own it
or as slang goes, p-owned
(I still don't think I quite get this
but the accompanied pictures
always make me laugh)
this from me
from inside what once
was darkness, now bright
laughter.
notice how my last thought
came unstructured
the order askew
or did you notice
was it really that off
and is it all in my head anyway
July 23, 2007 - Monday
my hours with things
I fill my days, my weeks
my hours with things
to do and thoughts of you
I am becoming
accomplished.
In your distance I gaze
wistful for what was
mouth a stir for flesh
heart sick for words
but feel my attentions
my utter truths
cloying and clinging –
I do not like this feeling
and must retire from it.
I am not gone
nor want to be
I am of course yours
as ever I was
as ever I am or will
but if your freedom
is good part my adoration
so be it truth that you are here
as much as ever you will be
if so you decide...
if you so decide
but damn
you are a stubborn beast
and I no longer master
of my heart but slave
seeking to control the bleed.
mommy dearest
Mother hasn't stalked me
in over a fortnight four.
Should I worry there's a body
to which I will need to tend
and burry? Should I give her
what she was after all along:
someone to take care of her
regardless of her greed?
July 23, 2007 - Monday
the absence of breath
living;
is it the high-lows
or the absence of breath?
Surely to which, the other
is the surviving...
July 16, 2007 - Monday
energy from air
Having lost the argument
with the man of science
as I sometimes must,
I now emerge
from a drugged out stupor
still pink-cheeked, fevered
and drawing energy from air;
face toward the burning sun
inner peace profound
I cannot be swayed
from my course
not now that I am found.
Yet still there is a quiet
where sadness weeps;
she is my soul a wander
an ache of hunger, thirst
and need that echoes
off the coming silence,
on deaf ears her pity pleas.
faith comes
hard on the heels
of distance
and she
is just a girl
after all
with a little
heart sore
and a thirst
for more
to this moment
In all my life never
did I want, allow need
yet at that first gaze
I would have you.
You, the final catalyst
to break my core/soul,
spark the fire aglow
throw my vows to hell,
to my becoming;
bright eyes and wild
you gasped like a child
in wonder at my mouth
devouring
and I high
on the thrill of finally being
desired
wanted
wanton
free.
Funny how the years
pass and I recall...
you, my lover once
upon a time that led me
to this moment
and to another.
September 7, 2007 - Friday
soured on a life
my husband
remember how we dreamt
dreams
of the land and the sea
no purpose save to live
those dreams
come again
on the tips of a tongue
soured on a life
that would break me
if I were not so
goddamn ornery
and hell-bent
September 6, 2007 - Thursday
look upon bright
fleet of foot
and slight of mind
oh flee thee
never-boy of summer
take this heart
a weary
to the shore
and cast it's ash
to wind;
breathe my bones
let them lodge
in lung, dust
forgive my need
come to me
ever is the silence
frightening
on the morrow
deafening
do I ponder
yet look upon bright
journeyman
this life, oh
it been a long time
coming
and I will walk the valleys
and I will tread the shore
and I will swim the rivers
in search of
transcendence
Valhalla
ever more
ever more…
once we were young
once we were young
my sister
brother
and I
before drugs
before death
divorce and dreams
torn asunder
yet never were there bonds
strong enough
to keep us alive
to ever see us healthy
in the care of one another;
what great expense
life and soul
and how very long
it takes to mend
September 4, 2007 - Tuesday
manna from God
Gonna be one of those years
when food is made for the week
and tea bags get used twice
when chicory instead of coffee
is relished as frivolity
consumed as a food group
and breakfast is a fist full
of vitamins and cheap carbs.
These are lean days in Texas
in the south, in America
when getting by on a dime
is our most frequent dream
and our debt, manna from God.
some things don’t get said aloud
some things
don't get
said aloud
don't get
articulated
are never
written down
but they
are in my heart
on my mind
on my conscience
August 30, 2007 - Thursday
on my writing
sometimes they are not words with meanings, only the syllabic utterance of a string sounds, an affectation of the heart
August 30, 2007 - Thursday
love song for t.c...breathless
crazy-wet
for a boy the taste
of freedom made of lightness
and deep caress that blushes
her bright smooth peach
and leaves her
breathless
August 21, 2007 - Tuesday
i am consumed
I reach for stars
fill my days with it
seek to devour dreams
to exhaustion - okay
that, my friends, beer;
but I hope you know
you are my everything,
you are my love, my
passion, the swelling
of my heart midst
blushed twilight.
August 19, 2007 - Sunday
to know me is to always
I walked the hall one time
about the rooms pacing
head hung low, tilting back
and forth , hand on nape;
love and grief it creeps
through cracks it seeps
and I am far away oft
to the future where I will
never hurt you, the past
where he pleads for life.
My love for you reminds
me of my grief for him;
neither will I ever let go,
both, my life have altered.
To know me is to always
let me hold him, grief
a glistening in my heart
and joy for you ever
on the tip of my tongue.
August 17, 2007 - Friday
but as such, he is free
The old guy asleep in the grass?
I thought about dignity and
how the world once was
what we've become; I cried
not quite mighty, more
in the way of suadade; things
mourned though never realized.
Vagabond he may be,
but as such, he is free.
It rained later that night
brief but fierce.
I wondered if I should
walk the bank, scout the creek
but much like mother and
her fading away
do I really want to know?
August 16, 2007 - Thursday
what we’ve become
There's an old guy asleep in the grass
and I am at once both afraid and ashamed;
my sense of security weighing hard
against concern and charity.
I question my decision to move here.
My decision and yet to admit
I am not infallible, never claimed to be.
My strength and sense of responsibility
derived more from the need to persevere
than any sense of leadership; I cry,
not from lack of knowing what to do
but more for this day and age
that places me in this dilemma
I return to a time and place
when I was barely four and wept
perhaps some seed from past living;
wept for the downfall of man
though I had not words then
now perhaps I can finally claim
I cry for what we've become.
Strange that I was reading Rumi today,
"People of the world don't look
at themselves, and so
they blame one another."
I blame no one, I just cry,
not sure what to do.
July 25, 2007 - Wednesday
shameless my lust for you
this morn I dressed
with care; black lace
under a black dress
I had pulled from the back
of barely worn things
slim, deep-cut, snug –
provocative – I cooed
and purred along the way
the image of you in my bed
provoking me to shout
silent, glow smug
all day simpering soft
for anyone and everyone
to know I came away satiated
it was near four
when your plea came
do you know
I adore the way you ask
demand – and I never
saying nay, embracing
shameless my lust for you
we slept little till the alarm
I deep though brief;
you reaching out
in half slumber
to grasp my sex
in your hand madly
getting me off then
a slow fade to slumber
drousily still aroused
I turned to spoon you
pushed up on feathered air
arms devouring you,
lean, tan, young
my mouth relished
your nape, your collar
that valley 'tween
shoulders I so covet,
until you turned on me
hard, demanding
and I took you, let you
July 24, 2007 - Tuesday
what once was darkness, now bright laughter
one
way I suppose would be to
refuse to acknowledge the thing
let it grow restless and move away
this from
a Japanese flick I thought profound,
called "life taste good"
notice the odd vernacular
another,
way of dealing is that
once I find the source
I can manage it
this from one of the
things I seek to understand
he is beautiful, bright, and distant
in his unsurity
notice…I make up words when
I can think of no other to suit
more likely,
I will ponder the issue
think of all options open to me
beat it to a bloody pulp
and own it
or as slang goes, p-owned
(I still don't think I quite get this
but the accompanied pictures
always make me laugh)
this from me
from inside what once
was darkness, now bright
laughter.
notice how my last thought
came unstructured
the order askew
or did you notice
was it really that off
and is it all in my head anyway
July 23, 2007 - Monday
my hours with things
I fill my days, my weeks
my hours with things
to do and thoughts of you
I am becoming
accomplished.
In your distance I gaze
wistful for what was
mouth a stir for flesh
heart sick for words
but feel my attentions
my utter truths
cloying and clinging –
I do not like this feeling
and must retire from it.
I am not gone
nor want to be
I am of course yours
as ever I was
as ever I am or will
but if your freedom
is good part my adoration
so be it truth that you are here
as much as ever you will be
if so you decide...
if you so decide
but damn
you are a stubborn beast
and I no longer master
of my heart but slave
seeking to control the bleed.
mommy dearest
Mother hasn't stalked me
in over a fortnight four.
Should I worry there's a body
to which I will need to tend
and burry? Should I give her
what she was after all along:
someone to take care of her
regardless of her greed?
July 23, 2007 - Monday
the absence of breath
living;
is it the high-lows
or the absence of breath?
Surely to which, the other
is the surviving...
July 16, 2007 - Monday
energy from air
Having lost the argument
with the man of science
as I sometimes must,
I now emerge
from a drugged out stupor
still pink-cheeked, fevered
and drawing energy from air;
face toward the burning sun
inner peace profound
I cannot be swayed
from my course
not now that I am found.
Yet still there is a quiet
where sadness weeps;
she is my soul a wander
an ache of hunger, thirst
and need that echoes
off the coming silence,
on deaf ears her pity pleas.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
lazy day
sought to define
She always seem to be
a step ahead or day late and a dollar short;
one of those girls
that can lure beautiful men into her bed
though never do they tarry long.
They were only crushings anyway, yet once
upon dream she fell
(those golden boys having spoiled her well)
and twilight mixed
with madness kissed her lips and the sun
became the moon.
For a brief beat she knew,
she stepped in time with the world, bathing
in moonshadowed pools.
Then as always she began
restless in the limbo pacing, thirsting
for the object of her affection, of her desire
and sought to define.
July 11, 2007 - Wednesday
a few bits missing
I admit to distraction
even leaning back
letting my head loll
on the pillow listlessly
my mind takes stock
finds a few bits missing
moves on toward
Shakespeare having
fallen on the floor.
She always seem to be
a step ahead or day late and a dollar short;
one of those girls
that can lure beautiful men into her bed
though never do they tarry long.
They were only crushings anyway, yet once
upon dream she fell
(those golden boys having spoiled her well)
and twilight mixed
with madness kissed her lips and the sun
became the moon.
For a brief beat she knew,
she stepped in time with the world, bathing
in moonshadowed pools.
Then as always she began
restless in the limbo pacing, thirsting
for the object of her affection, of her desire
and sought to define.
July 11, 2007 - Wednesday
a few bits missing
I admit to distraction
even leaning back
letting my head loll
on the pillow listlessly
my mind takes stock
finds a few bits missing
moves on toward
Shakespeare having
fallen on the floor.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
june into july, bipolar days and nights of unrest
July 10, 2007 - Tuesday
safety of the shore
Matt says
surviving is not living
I know this
but it's the one thing I trust;
survival
I also know
not all hearts are the same
and mine dips and sways
wants to soar
but wants
the safety of the shore
July 8, 2007 - Sunday
as well she wants
incongruency of action
and words is the heart
at odds yet she waits
in sweetest sorrow
knowing she can live
without him but knowing
as well she wants to stay.
July 5, 2007 - Thursday
somewhere along the line
I didn't mean to be a poet
much less one of love and death
nor did I set out toward
the bearing of my soul.
I wanted to dream in far off lands
and drink the depths
of blue red oceans sent down
in black blue ink.
somewhere along the line
I learned to feel and think
far more than such a small
tender heart should
somewhere along the line
I learned to weep and mourn
somewhere along the line
I learned to love and to live.
note: yes, "bearing"...
if seemingly i cling
Sometimes the world moves
but I cannot move with it
the silence prevents me
and I mourn the coming days.
I am not always whole. Not
the way your love makes me;
and I fear no other will ever
make me feel the same. So
if seemingly I cling, Love,
forgive and kiss my brow
let the worry from me go.
July 2, 2007 - Monday
where words cannot reach
still
in the quiet blushing
slow
sweet
thrusts
enveloped in your arms
I crawled inside
us a tangle
and found
that place
where words
cannot reach
June 20, 2007 - Wednesday
in the learning
each we come
in time our own
to the reconciliation
of need, want
against should
I can hear you
breathing, articulation
in the learning
and beam bright
smiles lit in eyes
pride, proud am I
to be privy
to the growing of you
exquisite, sublime
oh beauteous
lover mine
in turn I grant
thee glimpse
your own of
my own becoming
for you do foster
my soul searching.
what a strange thing to mourn
despair
makes an odd
wailing
moaning
guttural
exhalation
of silence
it twists the hands
and wraps you in a ball
immobile
on the bathroom floor
eyes staring wide
minutes seeming hours
pass
yet no one
ever comes
to claim you
you rise alone
and suddenly
you're a shell
that weeps
in the car
on the way to work
on the way home
in restaurants
when your only solace
is the strength you muster
your endeavorance
to persevere
then one day you awake
and you've lost
your anger
it is as much gone
as the body you've buried
what a strange thing
to mourn
anger
June 18, 2007 - Monday
shine - a poem for t.c.
distance, I
thought
you had gone
thought
you were going
thought
you didn't want me
sent word that I miss you
and you spoke to me soft
and gentle as is your way
and we did part that eve
a promise
that we have the now
and the now we are taking
for a love like this
though future uncertain
should shine
shine
baby
shine
June 15, 2007 - Friday
began to learn to trust
It was a Sunday
when I smiled
and turned
my face toward the heat
static in my ears
as I sat in the sun
of my southern youth
suit wet and trying to dry
deaf by the water
laughing with friends;
there is a first time
for everything.
Last eve my lover
lay beside me
neither of us sleeping much
for each others body
in the bed
as all night
we lay arms and legs
a tangle
softly spooning
gently touching
tossing turning
fresh from the water
he had smiled with his eyes
heart a sparkle
and mouthed words distinct.
It's been ten months since
he became the first
to tempt me
to water
after far too long
ten months since
I began to learn to trust.
June 14, 2007 - Thursday
red clay and dawn
the white man came
tore my earth, my soul
asunder and since
each life I have walked
lost in their way, spoke
in their tongue, all
the while my soul
beats red clay and dawn
June 14, 2007 - Thursday
the piece i need (the peace)
In the long hours of dawn
where the waking cannot find me
and sandmen tug as I turn neat away
Valhalla lulls me with her languid coo
"rest, my warrior queen, too long
have you held to heart the strength
of nations gone to war
and the women left to weep,
set your burden to drift awhile
in ebb and flow along my shore
let me grace you with my limbo
and tread ye not along the moor."
Ever do I search the way
within and find the piece in need.
June 13, 2007 - Wednesday
she - that girl
close to three a.m. – again.
wasn't it wrote – that time before…
seeming always and again, again
in the dreamscape does he come
mayhap more oft he stays
but on this eve he did go.
early morning on the morrow
but he left her in good spirit
and less lost is she – that girl –
who let her lover steel her heart
June 12, 2007 - Tuesday
at thirty-seven going on twelve
Twelve
why twelve?
cause twelve was a good age
an age of innocence
of body
if not soul
before my menses flow
several years before
my hymen broke
it was an age of push and shove
where games were played
on asphalt and merry-go-rounds
though things with me
never came easy
I was still just a girl
just a girl
and the future was out there
it had not finally come
it had not
finally come
a soul that bleeds
that girl that did
that girl that does
that girl she turned neat
face toward flesh
she seeks
a way to stop
the love
the hurt
he is just a man,
my girl,
they are all
just men
and you?
you were graced
with too large a heart
a soul that bleeds
and the capacity
to give
tease the waking
I
That she could burn so late
through the cold yuletide
worries; what will become
of her in the summer heat?
Do suns burn off then dissipate
or like planets will she make
to the old bone yard seeking fate?
I could not know for she am I,
still, at the fire of yuletide dying
mourning embers' glow
softly fading and in my limbo
do I linger, look about
almost meek, "My god!" I cry
Where is my December!"
II
late into the eve
my southern sun does tease
and in my lulling haze
I brush soft
nipples large
and full and pink,
world about me sighing
it stops but brief allowing
her to think.
safety of the shore
Matt says
surviving is not living
I know this
but it's the one thing I trust;
survival
I also know
not all hearts are the same
and mine dips and sways
wants to soar
but wants
the safety of the shore
July 8, 2007 - Sunday
as well she wants
incongruency of action
and words is the heart
at odds yet she waits
in sweetest sorrow
knowing she can live
without him but knowing
as well she wants to stay.
July 5, 2007 - Thursday
somewhere along the line
I didn't mean to be a poet
much less one of love and death
nor did I set out toward
the bearing of my soul.
I wanted to dream in far off lands
and drink the depths
of blue red oceans sent down
in black blue ink.
somewhere along the line
I learned to feel and think
far more than such a small
tender heart should
somewhere along the line
I learned to weep and mourn
somewhere along the line
I learned to love and to live.
note: yes, "bearing"...
if seemingly i cling
Sometimes the world moves
but I cannot move with it
the silence prevents me
and I mourn the coming days.
I am not always whole. Not
the way your love makes me;
and I fear no other will ever
make me feel the same. So
if seemingly I cling, Love,
forgive and kiss my brow
let the worry from me go.
July 2, 2007 - Monday
where words cannot reach
still
in the quiet blushing
slow
sweet
thrusts
enveloped in your arms
I crawled inside
us a tangle
and found
that place
where words
cannot reach
June 20, 2007 - Wednesday
in the learning
each we come
in time our own
to the reconciliation
of need, want
against should
I can hear you
breathing, articulation
in the learning
and beam bright
smiles lit in eyes
pride, proud am I
to be privy
to the growing of you
exquisite, sublime
oh beauteous
lover mine
in turn I grant
thee glimpse
your own of
my own becoming
for you do foster
my soul searching.
what a strange thing to mourn
despair
makes an odd
wailing
moaning
guttural
exhalation
of silence
it twists the hands
and wraps you in a ball
immobile
on the bathroom floor
eyes staring wide
minutes seeming hours
pass
yet no one
ever comes
to claim you
you rise alone
and suddenly
you're a shell
that weeps
in the car
on the way to work
on the way home
in restaurants
when your only solace
is the strength you muster
your endeavorance
to persevere
then one day you awake
and you've lost
your anger
it is as much gone
as the body you've buried
what a strange thing
to mourn
anger
June 18, 2007 - Monday
shine - a poem for t.c.
distance, I
thought
you had gone
thought
you were going
thought
you didn't want me
sent word that I miss you
and you spoke to me soft
and gentle as is your way
and we did part that eve
a promise
that we have the now
and the now we are taking
for a love like this
though future uncertain
should shine
shine
baby
shine
June 15, 2007 - Friday
began to learn to trust
It was a Sunday
when I smiled
and turned
my face toward the heat
static in my ears
as I sat in the sun
of my southern youth
suit wet and trying to dry
deaf by the water
laughing with friends;
there is a first time
for everything.
Last eve my lover
lay beside me
neither of us sleeping much
for each others body
in the bed
as all night
we lay arms and legs
a tangle
softly spooning
gently touching
tossing turning
fresh from the water
he had smiled with his eyes
heart a sparkle
and mouthed words distinct.
It's been ten months since
he became the first
to tempt me
to water
after far too long
ten months since
I began to learn to trust.
June 14, 2007 - Thursday
red clay and dawn
the white man came
tore my earth, my soul
asunder and since
each life I have walked
lost in their way, spoke
in their tongue, all
the while my soul
beats red clay and dawn
June 14, 2007 - Thursday
the piece i need (the peace)
In the long hours of dawn
where the waking cannot find me
and sandmen tug as I turn neat away
Valhalla lulls me with her languid coo
"rest, my warrior queen, too long
have you held to heart the strength
of nations gone to war
and the women left to weep,
set your burden to drift awhile
in ebb and flow along my shore
let me grace you with my limbo
and tread ye not along the moor."
Ever do I search the way
within and find the piece in need.
June 13, 2007 - Wednesday
she - that girl
close to three a.m. – again.
wasn't it wrote – that time before…
seeming always and again, again
in the dreamscape does he come
mayhap more oft he stays
but on this eve he did go.
early morning on the morrow
but he left her in good spirit
and less lost is she – that girl –
who let her lover steel her heart
June 12, 2007 - Tuesday
at thirty-seven going on twelve
Twelve
why twelve?
cause twelve was a good age
an age of innocence
of body
if not soul
before my menses flow
several years before
my hymen broke
it was an age of push and shove
where games were played
on asphalt and merry-go-rounds
though things with me
never came easy
I was still just a girl
just a girl
and the future was out there
it had not finally come
it had not
finally come
a soul that bleeds
that girl that did
that girl that does
that girl she turned neat
face toward flesh
she seeks
a way to stop
the love
the hurt
he is just a man,
my girl,
they are all
just men
and you?
you were graced
with too large a heart
a soul that bleeds
and the capacity
to give
tease the waking
I
That she could burn so late
through the cold yuletide
worries; what will become
of her in the summer heat?
Do suns burn off then dissipate
or like planets will she make
to the old bone yard seeking fate?
I could not know for she am I,
still, at the fire of yuletide dying
mourning embers' glow
softly fading and in my limbo
do I linger, look about
almost meek, "My god!" I cry
Where is my December!"
II
late into the eve
my southern sun does tease
and in my lulling haze
I brush soft
nipples large
and full and pink,
world about me sighing
it stops but brief allowing
her to think.