Monday, February 21, 2011

Leda and the Swan

Leda bends, she sways,
the agonizing pain,
the puriant pleasure.
Wings pressing her delicate thighs
opening them in a blurry of white.

Closer he enfolds,
she finds but scant will to fend.

She leans to his need, his nature.
A delicious invasion.

Zeus leaves his seed indifferently.
The queen of Sparta, alert to his flight beyond.

Twins moan in the womb,
Leda weeps aloud.


I left home.
I left home and moved on.
One small suitcase,
but enough memories
for all the tomorrows.

His shadow slinks, its next to me
corner of my eye,
filling my soul like cement.

Years are behind me,
my wings are clipped,
and I'm running now.
Just not fast enough.

He's in front of me,
nowhere to hide but inside.
Inside I go back,
I vision no escape....
this time.
My feet are bloodied,
trans versing this same circle; going nowhere.


He plays her like an instrument he knows
She arches for him,
He meets every curve
with his hard warmth.

Unwittingly casting a spell,
whispered secrets whorl
above their heads.

Their kiss, a potent drug
A climactic need.


Sunday, December 5, 2010

What He Wants

He paces the floor
each step another heartbeat.
Heartbeat toward heartbreak.
Caressing walls, counting footfalls.
Her lips, touch
her essence.
He lingers, heart and hands
overwhelmed with memory.
Unable to let go,
with nothing to hold onto.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

The Unknown

Who are you?; he whispers.
Walks around me,
assessing, challenging.
A deep need.
A desire, a foundation for flames.
He touches lightly
uncertain of the authenticity.
A fleeting kiss,
Who are you?
Gathers his appetite, his ardor,
reaches, pulls me into his arms.
A deep sigh.
I hear the word...”you”.
Far away and falling fast
fear claws, rigid, thick.
He resurrects me,
he's in me.
And I can't breath.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010


I'm falling,
I'm falling apart in silence.
A quiet desperation.
A slow motion separation,
a daily shattering
of self.
Clinging, yet falling.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Bridge of Sighs

A night venture
yes, just a short trip
this evening.
After all, what can it cost?
A mere coin?
Reach into your pocket
we leave straightaway.
The moon casts a naked shadow
on the blackest of rivers
not a ripple to disturb
the marble of it's fathomless depths.
Old as time
mortal for only a brief breath longer.
What color is your thread?
As we enter the room of Fates,
what color?
Red, a bright jewel blue perhaps,
or a shade of night dew on still water?
No have reached the near shore.
Hand your gold coin to Charron.
He awaits and he is impatient.
Take a lengthy breath and
step into the boat.
It is called the Bridge of Sighs for a reason.
This is your last.