Tuesday, December 30, 2008

uncertainty

I grind my teeth til my tongue bleed

Til they cut its skin, and the flesh bleed

Grind, grind, grind; bleed, bleed, bleed.

Monday, December 29, 2008

carnival queen

The moon hung low amongst the tents tonight;
For she heard a song that bespoke with delight
Of a grand spectacle sung by dreamers—
of jesters and fire-eaters, midgets and jugglers—
a shabby court dancing, defiant of their queen
and her poodle lover with a tongue so clean

in measured steps and careful laughter,
the magician conjured the poison orders—
nothing to be spared of her, not even her garters.
Not one poodle hair on her white, white garters.
the balloon man howled, signaling the pack
the start of the hunt, with the moon on their back.

Carnival queen, oh carnival queen,
where art thou, our beautiful queen?
Cried the sweet, murderous chorus out for a scream.
Carnival queen, oh please do no fret,
we promise to be gentle in staging your death,
Not a drop spilt, or your ball gown’s wet.

She ran and ran, fraught with fear
For she hears their footsteps, ever so near
Nestled in her bosom—her poodle prince;
Flicks his tongue and licks her skin.
Sigh and sizzle, she muttered some relief
All she wanted was a reprieve from grief

For loving her prince—fangs, fur and tail
Was it ever so doomed as to end in this trail?
A lovers’ cliff opening to sea, arms outstretched--
offering rest; she stops on her track, breath heaving;
looking through his eyes, searching for meaning—
her court will soon meet them; certain and unforgiving.

____

the moon dipped on the black waters this night;
for she witnessed a spectacle that ended in heights.
She danced and she swirled, shining and beaming
Asking a question that henceforth goes ringing:
Carnival queen, oh carnival queen,
Where art thou now, oh beautiful queen?

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

the anatomy of seduction

my eyelids convulse to the beat of a thousand drums
when you stare at me like that—
a kid drinking me like soda pop in the hot afternoon sun;
primal, ravaging; taking me in big thirsting gulps
til i am no more. lost in the space between your gaze
and my terminal yearnings; in transit until the next train arrives,
dreaming my technicolor dreamscape of merry-go-rounds
and cotton candies; ferris wheels and easter bunnies;
drifting with the clouds in sing-song existence
as my anorexic angels plead my case, weeping in silence
for my release; wailing, destitute in the shadows
of this cathedral-prison that your likable-lickable
ice cream eyes built for me.
me--a wooden puppet whose strings are pulled taut;
closer and closer to you as you flash that bedeviled grin,
smoking hot and moan-inducing; oohhh.
me--a tattered soul quivering under your bright lights,
pierced at the iris to eschew any and all resistance
as you laugh your satin syrup laughter. divine and devastating.
my winged counsels dream the hara-kiri in torment
as my technicolor theme park melt to mush;
and the train lights go poof!

black is the color of seduction.

and then you say hello.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

the tryst

amidst these boxes, stacked and labeled--
things owned and quietly forgotten;
amidst these dingy walls and forlorn floors,
and cobwebs gingerly hanging

we jostle and tumble, hungry and heaving--
thigh slide on thigh, hurried and clamping;
dribbling shallow breaths, back and forth
back and forth; yours to mine, mine to yours

tongues grope, thrust and flick,
eyelids fluttering quick;
backs arch, and buttocks glide,
bee stings blossom on backsides

we rise and ebb with the flood of our sweat,
rolling ruggedly on the dust carpet
of the stone-cold floor, as we fall asleep
caked with mud, as midnight creeps.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

in remembrance

my sheets burst in flames
as we crackled like firecrackers
lighting up the gloom

in the silence of our cooling bodies
i planted a delicate kiss
on your nape, eyes closed

uttering a silent prayer
for each sweat-soaked thread
tasting all things stale and bitter-sweet

now in cinders

Sunday, December 7, 2008

the factory sessions

Oh dear guava

Oh dear guava
Round and green
Your skin is flecked
And your tummy’s pink

I stammer, I mumble
I stumble, I fumble
Your seeds-a-crackle
In my mouth, they sizzle

Yak yak yak
And you bite back
Oh dear guava,
Dear guava, dear!

Ugly sick pig

Ugly sick pig,
When will you squeak?
This mousy’s stiff scared
Of your size so big

You wriggled, you wiggled
Your snout for to bicker
I wrangled, I strangled
In this pen, so I’ve trembled

You dirty old bugger,
Think you’re so clever;
But this rat’s some weaver
So shudder and shiver

Harrow the sparrow

Drink me dry
Of woe and sorrow;
For I am tired
Of being a sparrow;

Singing so high
living so low--
harken to my plea,
straighten my arrow;

for it is crooked
and needing a marrow;
so drink me dry
harrow this sparrow.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

delirium's embrace

this skin longs to bathe
in amber streams of sunlight
with you, darling tender rider;
to embrace you aglow
with warmth only the light
of day can bring.
oh how these feet crave
the softness of sand
on the beach we have trod on;
in those long walks we took
with the singing gulls
and the gentle breeze.
how long has it been,
since we danced
the dance of sweet whispers
in the prairie wind,
unguarded, unshackled?

i dare not count the days;

for they fade away, screaming
with the mud splattered
on these coffin-walls
that we tear and scratch,
tear and scratch
til our voices grow hoarse,
and our fingernails crumble
in this sea of shadows,
unyielding, confining--
they bleed our hearts dry
to shades of somber ochre,
the color of despair

in our entombed embrace
i weep and plead,
weep and plead; to any god
who’ll take heed--
for these eyes long to see yours
smiling and sparkling,
riding out of this long night
of coffins and dungeons,
and darkness devouring;
into that faraway land
of open sunlit fields
my delirious mind
kept seeing

weep and plead
weep and plead; to any god
who’ll take heed

as these hands long to hold yours
free of tethers and manacles--
just us, riding side by side;
across the blue of the horizon
and the green of the grass;
the soft spray of the sea
and gentle cooing of the wind.
just us--
stripping free of our skins,
running free in our spirits;
free to float and to giggle
with the motes unseen;
and to bathe, at last
in glorious golden sunshine--

in the glorious light of our love,
in the glorious light of ourselves