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

Breakable


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

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 matter...you 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.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Ashes


Through the shadows darkly, he slips
his steps silent
mind pained, chaotic.
He lost.
Not a gambit, no trifle,
her love.
In ashes, burning wild, uncontrolled
as is his heart.
He seeks the dark, beseeches the dark
moans aloud his agony,
in the dark.
He remains in the shadows.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Royal



Dowager Queen?
They know nothing, this council of fools!
This is my choice, my life.
I made it thus.
Think they can marry me off to Spain, do they?
Are they blind to theses robes of Royal Purple?
Let them dither and pronounce...
it is I alone that holds this scepter, wears the
crown of gold.
I am Queen. I watch, I listen.
I am Royal!

Video et taceo

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Living on the edge


Did he ever nod his head 'yes'? Say the word out loud?
A brief moment of doubt, perhaps fear.
No quicker than a flash, a needle in his hand.
And never a second thought for another day.
Magic promised in a clear liquid,
an emptiness filled, a storm shored up.
He sips from agony, smells pain.
A prisoner of his own darkness.

He's living on the edge.

Monday, September 20, 2010

The Liar



the mistake, the God forsaken mistake.
she knew.... didn't she?
The rocky promontories of her soul
seek asylum, a piece of relief.
A sliver of blue on a dark horizon.
The mistake yet follows her
like a branded red M on her sheath.

but she let him in.....
she is now surrounded with his
emotional debris. Crowding her thoughts.
Drowning her in his ever present need, the
stench of his sorrow.


The light is bleeding out of her, a dependent
to his desires. Vulnerable and no longer her own.
She exists only to fulfill his wishes. Her mistake.


Her crown of martyrdom does not sit well upon her head.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

No Honor

He understood that his was not to be an
honorable death.
With what he had done, seen and lived
through, honor was an ocean away. Lost.

No, all he wished for was a 'good death'.
He counted and compared, numbers sliding
one into the other. There is no quantifying
deeds; good or bad. Falling to the floor he searches
and comes away with empty hands.

He leaves behind 'soldiers'.
They are in good stead and no longer needed
his direction.
Goodbyes are unnecessary, he will not be far.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

I Would



If I could, I would....
visit the years of my youth.
I would grieve and shed the
tears that remain dry still.
I would return to those days
when love waited at my doorstep
everyday.
I would accept it.

If I could, I would....
have cast my runes forwards,
and not look back.
Learned how to say yes,
unlearned the feeling of fear.
Allowed the arms around me
to stay there.

If I could, I would
move to the ocean
stand in the waves forever
forget what I know
know what I should
love him again.

If I could, I would
live.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

NEED


They went up in flames, whoosh, just like that.
They were two crossed wires that caused an
explosion.
She had no thoughts other than thoughts about
her body and what it wanted.

He touched her here, he kissed her there
she could not get enough, did not want it
to stop.
He caressed her body, then grabbed it;
he sucked, then bit.
He was a man who had not made love in
a long time, and his unchecked desire was
touching, heartbreaking almost.
I wanted to hand myself over: yes, take me
gobble me up.
I fell, I landed hard. Welcome to reality.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Belief


She has been the door, he the key.
Now and forever more it has been
the same story. Sorrow and
ecstasy, love and loss.

Yet here he stands, against her intense curiosity
her nascent desire.
He holds her face like a child's face, a doll's
face. Small and delicate.
Unwittingly casting a spell. Breathless in the moment.
She arches for him, does he ache for her?
His kiss a drug, a rush. Too powerful to let go.
He is like holding an instrument she has never
learned to play. She understands his longing,
his fear. His mistrust. She knows all his secrets.

Body to body and worlds apart.
Never once did she allow herself to believe.
She turns and walks away to the door,
forgetting the key.



Sunday, July 18, 2010

RED



He lays her down on a soft white duvet,
a field of fresh snow.
His face taut with hunger he allows his
eyes to wander across all that is her.
It is her lips, red, full and wet.
Bending his head down he drinks in
his fill and finds himself wanting more.
The creamy column of her neck, the
swell of her breasts.
To her lips he returns.
He stays to fill his soul.

Friday, July 16, 2010

Blood Work



she is buffeted by the strong winds of
change. Scattered about as dandelion
fluff in a raging storm.
Vision blurred to time and space, she
reaches. Hands spread out to feel..
anything, something.
Shaking and dizzy. Each tremble a
tiny but shattering vibration.

All that she needs, desires, she cannot
grasp. She no longer understands these
emotions. Like everything else in her
shortened life, they are gone.

What she does know,what she feels
churning in her soul,
is the one thing remaining.
This is blood work. No more, none less.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Euripides

But learn that to die is a debt we must all pay.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Strangers up close

It never began, so it cannot be over.
Playful words, hands...
Creating tension unrestricted.
Hollow eyes seeking potential,
Grim and infinitely desirable.

We've been here before, you and I.
Beside us, inside us, beyond us.
And now....sublime chimeras.

Strangers, eye to eye.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Edge

Peace of mind, give me the calm to notice
that there is a point along the ocean's horizon
where the watery blue changes to a deeper
complexion of blueness.

When I can think of nothing, when the thoughts
are endless,
I must go away and come find the sea.

He lays me down, it's far from here
and I am not afraid.
Take me to the water, to the edge, to the edge,
lift my clothing, walk me to the water.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Secret Keeper

I have a secret.
A lusty chimera that devours ingeniously.
As tidal as the moon,
a force, this secret is.
It begs, teases and conspires; tell!
Oh what tricks it plays,
as sensual as a lovers embrace.
Shhh!, I damp it down.
As tart as a lemon and sweet as honey.
It beckons with promises, lies.

I'm whistling forth a storm........
And I'm taking my secret with me!

Monday, May 31, 2010

Dream

Nightingales spread their wings above your eyes, leaving expectations of desire born to reality. Should I be that dream you seek, I will honor the wings, the dream, you.

Monday, May 24, 2010

She



She cannot remember the last night that rest
came without a fight.
She has not seen the dawn and paused with
anticipation and wonder.
She doesn't sing, her ears do not hear the music.
She used to look, eyes curious, anxious and hungry.
She sees nothing now.
She asked, “let me in”, waiting for a door to
open.
She begged for intersession, God was not listening.
She cuts over scarred wounds, wanting to feel
something, anything.
She screams for mercy knowing there is no succor
for her. Now.....or ever.
She is dammed and she knows this.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

La Petite Mort



They were delivered last Wednesday. Late in the afternoon,
young man in a green cap.
Fumbled the flower box while finding tip money.
Inside lay twelve perfect peach roses, my favorite color.

Creamy, ripe and bursting with life. Overwhelming
spicy scent. God's perfection in velvety petals.
I place them on my desk. An ignominious spot for
such beauty. An indictment upon the one that sent them?
They remain there one week. Aroma filling the air
with the scent of death, decay. A relationship I
must end. Beauty has a limited life as do some
love affairs. This one reeks of roses.

The petals are withered, brown veins travel the length.
Edges sadly curling, heads droop. Dripping their
life onto the desk. I never did tell him I despise roses.
I never told him anything.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Succulent


I caresses it first in my hand
slide my fingers across the warm and
soft flesh.
Delicately fuzzy and oh so sensual.
The mind wanderers places unseen,
unexplored till this very moment.
The touch, fingers tingling.
Can you detect the sweetness, the
earthy scent?
Holding it ever so slightly,
a little closer.
Mouth waters with anticipation;
desire builds to a climactic crescendo.
A small bite,
tender and senses are overwhelmed.
A lick, another bite.
Juices drench my my chin, my neck
drip to my breast.
Using my fingertips to gather.
Sucking up the overflow.
Can you taste this wonder?
Do you feel what I do?

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

learning to fly

laying on the bed, I heard it.
The knowing, making it real. The sound.
Quickly grabbed my jeans and shirt
running outside, attempting to button up.
Forget it, leave it, ignore it
finding the sound
my mission, my desire, my passion.
Raining, an ominous portent for the
the wings I seek.
Water pouring off me, clouding vision
perception?
Taking my shirt off to wipe my eyes, face.
And yes, the sound grows ever closer.
I hear a sputter and my heart lurches.
There she is! Clear for only one brief
moment.
A Piper, white with grand red stripes,
broad. proud she fly's.
Heavy winds, weighty rain pulls her down.
Fighting, struggling for altitude she cants to
the left. I hold my breath, a prayer on my
lips. Tipping, trajectory seems to be lost.
No, I whisper.
And there, right now she evens. A viking
on the way to victory.
Tears flood my face. This time for courage.
Learning to fly.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

a moment longer

Allow me to remain here at shores edge
just a moment longer.
Fog enveloping me, so like a lovers caress.
Warm, gentle, complete.
Smooth sand at my finger tips
older than time.
Before there was a him
long before me.
Let me feast my eyes on the struggling dawn
one last time.
Feel the waves lap at my thighs and belly
Wet to wet,
just a moment longer.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Heat

warm,always, to the touch
a tinderbox,waiting to be lit
a smoky haze curling around her head.
Absent is the fire
more heat, she waits
for the conflagration.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Ache

A glass of wine, a thought, a cigarette
And another.
Body grows taut, mind enters a state of
white out.
other words, another moment.
Sheets cold, unyielding. again I turn

over. Ache and body restless.
I need . Oh, I want. What can you give me?
Where can you touch me, make this ache
a memory.
Thighs quiver, shaking with desire.
Ache that cannot be slaked without you.
Here, now...
another thought, a sip, another cigarette.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Gone

He's empty, foolish with desire he cannot
describe nor fulfill.
He has no where to go now.
Searches and only ends up facing
a mirror of nothingness.
His place of darkness, self induced pain.
Takes photographs of self to validate;
and sees.........nothing.
A shadow with no shade, no impression.
No substance... empty.
His yesterday has curled away as
so much ebony smoke.
Today squandered and all but forgotten.

Tomorrow, …... without her,
he has none.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Patterns

my minute, my hour, my day
a pattern
light fading into shadow
twin sisters of impatience
want, desire, a hunger that
feeds without ceasing
a need that holds hands
late into the evening
just another pattern

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Bruised

Bruised

I am adrift, untethered
and I don't know how long
I can float.
I've been set free
like a balloon from a careless
child's hand.
The wind grabs at me
but takes me nowhere.
When your broken, alone
you can only crawl back
to your wounded heart.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

a little snow

Her vision is blurred. She wonders, is it the snow spitting
at her windshield? Or is it the streaming tears?
When the heartache overwhelmed her the only thought
she had was to get to the cabin. A place of refuge, a place
to forget him. A garden of forgetfulness.
The road conditions are such now, that she questions her
judgment. She knows however, its the only place to think,
grieve, recover. she is but a very few miles away.
It doesn't take long before the bright light of this downpour
leaves her disoriented, her mind wanders...

like the shadow of so many yesterdays, the past, the raw
emotions, flood her thoughts like a window left open in December.
She had never fallen in love before him. Oh yes, she has loved
other men...possibly many. But not until him did she make the
discovery. You can love, but still, ....being in love was so very
different.
She was lost, but found. Heat and coolness had no meaning.
It was very like being a newborn. Open to all and sunder.
Everything, all of her, her being, soul, belonged to him.
She forgot whom she was, for she lived only for him.
No mirror recognized her, she became, owned. So unlike her character,
her past experiences. Lost and her heart screamed...not found!

she breaks out of her reverie in time to see the drive leading to
the cabin. A sigh of relief escapes her raw lips, she has been
crying far too long. A chance now to go back in time...a more
peaceful era. This was her great grandparents cabin. Many renovations
later it still and forever holds its original charm and warmth.
In her parents will they had left a codicil that the longtime caretakers
were to remain in employ and her gratitude was never so
apparent as when she walked in and found an over warm but
deeply appreciated fire in the grate. Her eyes roamed the familiar room
and found that Emil and his wife had left a welcome of cheese, grapes
and an inviting bottle of red wine.

Running upstairs to her old room, she quickly drops her suitcase
and feeling the warmth of the fire set in her room as well, she divests herself of all but panties. Ahh, a modicum of freedom, a burden lifted.
She makes her way to the greatroom and opens the wine without
haste. Deep and dry, she drinks. Yes, she begs, let me forget.
Let me abandon all his assertions of love, of always.
eventually
the broken promises, the dreams. She recalls the phone conversations,
the texts and words whispered in her ear, her heart. Damn him,
she is betrayed by her own body. The warmth she now feels
is no longer emanating just from the fire. She feels his breath on her
neck his hand on her breast. ENOUGH she screams to an empty room.
A cypher kissing her fingertips, leaving wet trails of desire.
Another glass of wine. She came to forget.....she only remembers.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Desperation

She sits on the couch, watches the fish swim round the bowl.
The bird caged and in the corner makes another of its kissing sounds.
She doesn't really see the fish, she sees through them. The bird
just one of the very few sounds in the house.
Getting up she shuffles to the kitchen for yet another glass of
water. Her thirst unquenchable, has been for weeks now. Back to the
couch. Lighting a cigarette she looks closely around the room.
Dares herself to find something different...something of worth.
With emptiness she sees nothing she has not seen yesterday, last
week.....forever.
When the grandfather clock chimes another hour, she allows
herself the luxury of just a few tears to wet her face. She does not
count the chimes as time has no relevance here, in this room.
Glancing down she sees her glass has been emptied. Up to the kitchen,
pour another glassful, she goes back to the couch.

She understands there little time left, so she sits there.
Yesterday, last week....tomorrow?

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Pandora's Box

Of course I knew the day was coming. For several thousand years
I've known the date. I have not lived one day without this beast
on my back.
Damn Zeus to Hades. He could not be satisfied with the punishment he
metered out to Prometheus. No, he then had to have me created by
his choice of gods! For revenge? Revenge!

He imbued me with many qualities. Beauty, kindness of heart, and of
course curiosity. I was also given a pithos. Indeed I am Pandora and the
pithos is my daily burden known as “the box”. The box containing all
of the worlds evils.
Zeus then rent the sky wide and dropped me forth to live among the humans
to guard the secret of the box..to allow nothing to escape again.....
until now.

I have begged Charron with thrice his fee. On my knees for a ferry
across Styx. This also is denied me. There was never to be any sucress.

I spend my days tenderly rubbing the box with oils from the finest
of olives. There is no sheen that could possibly compare to the one
of Pandora's box. The scent of myrrh permeates its shape.
It has over the years, taken on a life of its own. It is not unlike a woman
gently and with great care, being taken care of by her lover.

And yet, I stand at this day of reckoning, anticipation and horror course
through me to my very core. Just what will Zeus have me unleash
upon humankind?
With one last tear, I slowly push the lock back and open the box.

Inside lay one thing and one thing only.
A mustard seed.

Monday, January 4, 2010

a walk to captain

A WALK TO CAPTAIN

the waves beat onto the shore with a rage unseen until
this moment in time. Skies deep, heavy and bruised.
Ice like...the water so cold it leaves no mark in the sand.

It is a rocky shore. Ageless and time forgotten. Beautifully
smooth rocks and boulders begin to rattle and move
with the force of the great waves. Movement unknown
and uninvited.

The cliff above the rocks rains down shoal like tears.
Atop the cliff stands a lone house. Occupied by one alone.


She stands at the window, watches the devastation,.she feels
no fear only anticipation. She has waited a lengthy time
for just this moment. The house shakes with the force of
such mighty winds...and with this wanton power, she knows.

Turning...she reaches up and removes the photo from the
mantlepiece. A sailor. Stern of visage..a small smile of pride
and what she believes is love. Her captain.
Dressed only in a sheer gown of white, she makes her way to
shore. Tightly holding the time worn photo she is buffeted
by the relentless winds. Calmly she strides past the boulders,
bending only momentarily. Her friends, she thinks, as she lightly
glides a slender hand across the surface. Ahh, she dare not
linger as she is wont. She is determined, she has purpose.

Straight is her course, the wind blowing a spray of sea water
into her face. She breathes it in. nirvana.
Without a glance back she walks into these angry waves.

The sea has claimed her captain.......surely it will welcome her.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

No refund, No return

No refund, no return

Slowly he opens his eyes. Stretching languidly and savoring
every sore muscle. Every thought, movement and sweet memory.
Closes his eyes once again, he buries his face in the pillow.
Her scent lingers and engulfs him with erotic pleasure. Much as
he adores the musing, he loves her more. Turns over to hold her
in his arms again...and again.
Empty sheets lie beneath his outstretched palm...empty and
cold? Has he overlooked something? No, no they had made plans
for breakfast out this morning! Oh, she must be in the
kitchen making coffee. But no, he does not smell coffee. No
pungent welcoming morning smell. No familiar chickory scent.
Tripping over sheets that had so recently enveloped lovers,
he runs to the living room and feels.....lost, panic rules his emotions.
Her coat, the things she had with her last evening have vanished.
A faint whisper of fragrance lingers in the air. It rebukes him,
taunts him, laughs and teases him.
After a pain filled year without her, he finds her. In the club
last night. Standing by the dance floor with that quixotic smile on
her face. So similar to when they first started out, be believes it
must be his imagination. He orders a drink, certain that when he
next turns around she will not be there. A cypher, a ghost.
He has spent a better part of this last agonizing year, searching, calling,
despairing. Never giving up...only gave in to the inevitable pain
the grind of what he calls life.
They had enjoyed a month of bliss few ever experience.
She was there, She was THERE with him. He questioned his
good fortune each of those 30 days. He begged her to stay with him.
She is his everything, a once in a life time experience. STAY he pleads.
He recalls her throwing her head back and laughing...but still, she stays.
Hand holding, warmth of body to body. Making love at all hours.
Just to gaze at her while she did mundane things, all were a thrill to
him.
Did he stop for one moment...just a precious minute and ask.....
“what does she feel”?
With regret, coursing through his deeper being he admits to having
done none of this...her smile, her passion has led him to believe.
Rushing home, what a wonderful word, it IS home with her there.
Roses in hand a plan for a night out, he finds the loft devoid of her
presence. There is nothing of her there, nothing but his memories.
And yet, here she stands. Almost regal, the way she holds
herself...the black dress, pearls and aura of 'me'.
He cares not. He takes hold of his drink, his heart and walks over.
'baby' he says...she turns and oh God, there is that smile!
Smirk some may say. But HE knows...he has seen that smile in
bed, at their most intimate moments. HE knows it weeps vulnerability.
Putting his drink down..he takes her hand gently in his, leads her out
the door and onto Broadway. She has said nothing...just holds his hand
tightly. A cab ride, and their back at his loft.

He walks back into the bed room, eyes wet with tears and steps on
something hard, unyielding. Bending down he finds a pearl.
And another, more until he discovers what must have been the
entire strand.

She is gone...she will not be back