Re-lay-shun Ships:

past the breakers,
beyond the let downs
and blow ups; erupting
in swirls of chaos,

of swaying hips
and pursed lips,
floating out in
a sea of noise.

Occupation

Her big girl panties heaved
out the window,
twirling her dress: spinning heads
          as she passes
          flashing smiles.
The chess board
collecting dust
in the corner of her room.

Reflections

Today at dawn
I saw an old friend

who was even more beautiful
than I remembered--

I should have looked in the mirror
long before now.

Moon Lighting

The umbrella rests by the back door--
the distant storm races
   mocking the forgetful woman
rushing to her lovers embrace.

Lies

When the storm comes, she spits and pisses

if one single drop falls upon her delicate flesh

like a Kim Kardashian who believes the hype

of a million lies, simply because her spoon is bigger,
                                                                      
                           than most.

A Mona Lisa (Unaware Of Course)

Dearest Beautiful Soul,

I notice, your arms stay close to your sides
so as not to appear too wide?
The bag you carry to trap
all of the stupid crap
that's being sold only to you
wandering, the streets right on cue
up and down and -- back again;
looking for comfort from the place it began,

only to be met with a blank stare

from the one who should care
the most.--- holding yourself; weighted down
with all the mess layed upon your shoulders, drown
your spirit of a broken heart, bleeding in tears
shread all of the years
that should have been.

If you can't hear me, I'll say it times ten;
babe, the crap you carry is not all yours
put yourself through torture,
no more; cause... You ARE the prize!

Mama-licious

To me, she is the riches
     even on such days she's
up to her elbows in dishes
    with a babe whining on her dress
cause she had the nerve to say,
    "Go clean up that mess!"
Covered in a vile muck
     from head to toe and all in between
from a day that frankly, just sucks!

Every night, she skips from the dark
      room of her little darlings
exhausted from a day of play in the park.

A moment to breathe, she sighs
     at the thoughts of what her life
has become.  She softly cries
     at the lonliness deep inside, a void
filled by only a dream yet imagined,
     a thought that she must avoid
for now. It is in this hour she hides
     in the shadows, in hopes no one will
see. It is in this hour I want to pull her aside

wrap her up in my arms for all of eternity
     because I must confess it is in this moment
She is the most beautiful of all, to me.


    

That's A Wrap

As the weight slides down
the sides of curves still too
steep, feeling around
at the structure once
hidden under blankets
of protection, reflecting
the first face seen
before being weaned

fear passes a
doughnut
hole and more

MUST
FIND
NEW
BLANKET

Thirties

There's just something about the thirties
Makes me too flirty
I declare! Those light lines
Tracing around places, mighty fine
To say the least! Those hips
Are so hip and don't get me started on her lips!
Yep! In the thirties is where I always wanted to be
But now I realize it was never about me!

A West Dream

 

In bed by twelve, mothering himself
like always. Turning with the motion of spinning,
sheets knotting between knees, he turns to
the left with a sigh.

Upon closing
his eyes, he finds himself moving

through a vast plain, with the crinkles

of yesterdays grass beneath bare feet.

The thick clouds pressing against
him like the weight

of a new lover.

Moving through the field, the air thickened
with humidity, like a moist thicket after a rain.
Huffing even faster, and coming upon the edge of
verdurous woodland with trees the size of giants,
and the color of her cheeks.

Stumbling upon her alluvial flat, bumping up to the side of a gorge,
the trees sway hypnotically, rippling like small explosions
through the length of their trunks. The moan
parting lips, with the warm breath just before a kiss, lost
within the cathedral-like forest.

Inflamed with passion
westerly breezes move the valiant storm in
tinging with electricity,

penetrating deeper than the night.

Climbing to the top of the hillside, the trees on the flat
below like a blue eyed babe, the morning after.
The clouds thin, vision less hazy, eyes open
with the desperation of night, giving way to dawn.

 

I love you, skip the flowers

It's weird to me that we give the women we love roses and flowers and such to show our love and appreciation to them.  I don't know, maybe I'm off my rocker but... isn't that kind of like giving a guy a cucumber plant, with a big, ripe cucumber flourishing in the middle of it to show how much we love them?

I think perhaps, to show the people we love how much we appreciate them... a better alternative might be to show them every day with kind, nurturing gestures, and using the words "I love you."  And, if they're our lovers... kisses, caresses, and tender touches wouldn't hurt!  Romantic dinners? Doing something they're perfectly capable of doing themselves, but you do it anyway?  These things I get.  But killing plants that look a lot like genitalia?  I just don't get it.  I know... I've been told many times I think too much like a guy.  Whatever dude!

Sushma

Her every word, expelled
with purpose. Tight, in her frame
petite feet, like guided missiles,
only she holds the code,
this way or that, no matter
of importance. Contentment lies
knowingly, any man will build
her, the grandest of castles in
a sky of lightning, if she
desired such nonsense.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

one fourth

Don't slap a label here cause nothing fits... I am what I fucking am! Get over it. Don't like it? Don't look, simple as that. I'm taking my life back God Damn it!!!!!!!!!!!!!

you women

I normally don't post this kinda stuff.  But I wrote this entirely in my head while driving this morning, and it made me laugh and made my migraine go away.... So, I just had to.

g' mornin.
I got up
with my brain racin
my body limpin
my head screamin
I forgot to brush
leavin this stinkin breath!
you women
are killin me.
can't think straight
not that I would if I could...
tight shirts
red lips
long nails
battin eyes
and oh dear God,
smellin better
than apple pie.
you women
have gotta stop
'fore my entire world
goes awry!

admiration

Just beyond her melting breast
lies the beat of all nations.

la mujer

Behind those fluttering eyes
are the souls of a million angels.

la femme

In her stride
is every parade ever marched.

die Frau

And those lips, oh those lips
they have the power to seduce
all into peace.

la donna

In her silky skin,
lies the map to the heart of the
world.

de vrouw

At the meeting of her thighs
is the birth of humanity.

a mulher

In a moment of time,
her embrace could right every wrong.

the woman

Her laugh is the song of every bird that’s ever flown.
The woman holds the keys
that could unlock all the worlds fortunes….
she just has to believe.