Tributary

when did it feel like plums?
the first time you pulled my lip.
when did the breeze come to life?
the first time you lifted my skirt.
sorrow now for the jade screen
in my hand wishing for your smooth
skin and muscled back.
must I love you like this? alone
at night fingering the beads
in my mind as a weary train traveler
blindly does to pass the time. At will.
what’s the word for ice melting?
how much love’s in spittle?
and when's the season for plums?

NaPoWriMo 2 & 3 for IGWRT

Compost Carousel

The brain is a pliable thing.
It counts fish pills on Saturday,
and willingly speaks in fuzzy tongues.
It's a muppet frog; direct cousins with
the tip of Howard Cosell's microphone.

The brain is a graphic girl running
one dead leaf hand alongside the prickly
pear of a hidden face. (When a tear falls in
the brain it cannot be emphasized loud
or loudly enough) Green's a bitch to burn!

The brain might be a clumsy tree. It's definitely
a pocketful of mornings, a myriad of opiates,
maybe moonlit Mondays, and 3 god-damned
mocking jays yammering 'everything is shit,'
when it's actually just avocado or commando.

[for this prompt]

It rains all weekend

a fucking perfection really

i'm surrounded by heartbeats
i'm surrounded by the sahara
and the accumulation of
the times of sand

nothing distracts me
from the verdict handed down,
"you left."

ice melts around my tongue
but it doesn't stop me
from swallowing the lemon sky

i cannot name or think
of my favorite authors,
i cannot name or think
of girls names
starting with the letter 'a'

but i know
like a clairvoyant
if the moon disappears tomorrow
i'm at risk
of regretting again soon

[for this prompt & this one too]

In my head

I wanted to write you a kiss, but I was married
to matted hair meets consummate courage.
I wanted to write you a kiss, but breath known
on my nape became fingers submerged in sand.
I wanted to write you a kiss, but I was knowing
a mouthful of cake;  licking icing off your thighs.
I wanted to write you a kiss, but when I closed
my eyes it was sweat drizzled over collar bones.
I wanted to write you a kiss, but some wild geese
gliding over a pond became you coming over me.
I wanted to write you a kiss, unknown as in water,
as in waves, as in held in each other's arms,
but I got stuck in my head, the knower of all.

[for this prompt]

Full Disclosure

We're kind of kinky
And probably stupid
Screaming into each
Other's mouths with abandon.
But hey! I don't want to continue
in Haiki here. How-everrrrr
It's our thing to poke
Chrysalis words forming
~ So, it must be love
Because here we are, baby
Trimming our toenails,
Eating our green cucumbers,
And spicy sausages . . . oh fuck,
I'm just going to say it.
Get a little bit closer.

[for this here]

Mika P.

That exchange student
From Helsinki

(We forget his devotion)

Gets lit in drive-in
Low Lights

Plastic Chevy
Lamps glow
On Middle America

Summer's pretty girls
Are loaded,
Puffing O's from
Mindful lips

Far-flung from Finland
In this small world;
His missionary kiss.


[#73]

Divorce papers

There came a time
Of return to myself or nothing.
A time of asking the priests,
“Shall I get dressed?
“Shall I eat?”
All the while knowing
that every other slump on a stoop
believes weight is no matter.
I agree with them that water is injurious
and that’s why I avoided it like a newborn baby.
And wouldn’t you know it’s the godamned
air who shouted shouted obscenities
that I am obscure, that love is a bitch
with no perfume of breasts. That pink
has gone off to live with the devil.
That last part is what really helped to clear things up.

[for this ekphrasric prompt]

You said stars

I think you were always meant to know me a little better than anyone else. And our lives were fated to converge like some cosmic dance. I know there is terrible distance between us. But our bodies are made of celestial light, and we are hurtling through space and time, toward the most beautiful collision.

Lang Leav, The Universe of Us

You said stars had burned out
and assembled your misplaced soul

You said light was living in me
and eternity was a jewel in my eyes

You said ‘I love you’ the first time
you saw me, and I didn’t even blink

You said you belong to me
before you belonged to me

You said everything infuriatingly right
in a deep afternoon ruffle

You said, just get here Angie
,and I swear I’ve never left you steady


[for this prompt]

Don't Promise

don't promise me
punctured poems
nor operatic love

don't apologize
for soaking me
in your steeps

they sing of your seed!
this cup is your vessel

swelling me with new
swelling me with becoming

the skin-on-skin
i damn well need to survive

[#72 for this prompt & this one]

Michael

I just don't know
what I just don't know
and stewing won't change that.
But baked apples for breakfast
and bed sheets to straighten
will save me from my imagination.
What else longs for connection?

Sunrise and joy ~
Eternity and a kiss.
My arms for you.

Why ~ It always comes to me

I write mom something in pencil.
It's on lines of a yellow legal pad.
It's nothing, except lacerations.

It's the five of us gathering. I write,
'We're clockwork at the round table.'
We eat supper and canned peas.

It's years later I walk into a mess hall.
It's a man playing ukulele for kids.
I look away from children on folding chairs.

We've never seen Hawaii's waters, Mom.
It's bread spread with butter, cut into
triangles. We say goodnight.

Lacerations isn't right. I know,
because it always comes to me.
It's more like pine needles.

Sweet and pungent. It warrants
pink paper swaddled in a manila
envelope. It's sealed with a kiss.

[for this prompt and #236]