Stickysliding up my armtickling my skin tastingmy sweat the snail roams
Never stop holding my handI love how we hold hands when we are together.in the carsiting at churchwatching tvOur hands find each other,left to right,unable to hold still theycaress, their language.Exploring what is cozy, and what is awkward.Sometimes you massage my hand, sometimes Ibring yours to my lips for a kiss.A wordless glance, a smile,and I don't ever want to let go.Even our hands make love.
becoming opaquefinally, mystery loveryou begin to reveal yourselfto me,as I ask to know youmore than just in the Biblical sense...are you afraidI'll leave?that I'll judge? I'm no haterthat I'll sound like your mother?perhaps your father.....Your past confessedas we lay on your bedsnuggled togetherBaby, I want to heal you,but it's not in my power.I understand why you useit's much better thanexisting like the living dead.I've been there.but if there is one thing I've learnedon this Earthit is that you have to Heal Thy Self.no one else can do it for younot all the sex, therapy or drugs in the worldand if you can't be good,be careful.....that's all I ask.
A White Chick's Tribute to MLK Jr.One Saturday morning in January, I had breakfast at IHOP which was filled with all kinds of people from many different ethnic backgrounds. I don't normally notice this because I never experienced segregation, but after watching the film on MLK Jr. at church last Friday, my awareness was tuned in. On the way out, I helped an elderly African American man, walking with a cane, by holding the door and opening the car door for him. I realized later that if it wasn't for MLK, I might not have had the freedom to show such kindness. I might have been too fearful of being terrorized by "White Supremest" for being kind to a person of color to help this gentleman out. Thank you Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr for granting me this freedom. You are not just an African American Hero, you are an American Hero who has given freedom to us all. May we never forget your legacy to the cause of civil rights, justice and peace in America.
Try it!"How is it that you like doing that?" he asks.I really do like it, don't I?You can tell, I like rocking your world.Perhaps...what I like goes beyondmere pleasure...it's more aboutself confidence in my skill, andbeing appreciated, which is so sexy.And there is something to be said aboutdoing one's best.It makes my day when I hear you say "Jesus Christ!"I just like being "that good" to you.Is it not better to give than to receive?The more I let go of expectations and attachmentsto my own gratification, the happier I am.Try it!Try it on me!
FanBoy WantedDear Geeky Fanboy:If you loveTank GirlNausicaaDark CrystalDirty DancingContactShort BusRed DwarfStar Trek First ContactAlienAliensAvatarAlien NationEnemy MindPractical MagicWillowFireflyStar Wars (4,5,6 ONLY)Space BallsGooniesTrue BloodLord of the RingsAgoraInterview with a VampireBambiTerminator 1&2AND it doesn't bother you this isn't inalphabetical order, please drop me a note,you sound perfect!Love,Your Future FanGirl
UnforgottenThrough the ancient mountain pass,Princes of old, left their mark,Vestiges crumble under wild grass,And whispers echo through the dark.
ObservationYou just need focus,the tree is the simpler task.From humanityOne must expect blurred edges,truth inferred rather than seen.
KissThere's nothing sweeterthan a kiss, except for themoment right before
my masksometimes my mask breaksmy mask that always smilesthrough the cracks... tears flow
Prisonerher dreams all broken loose.Memories, unconfined,escaped her past,they roost now in the tanglesof her disordered present.
Smooth PebblesEvery swooning blade of grass vindicated.The deep blue silence of a turning wheel.A precise number of fireflies in the apples.The coiled jealousy of all reptiles.The palsy of a prisoner's first sob.A tranquil sorrow in a dog's ribcage.All faces obliterated from the moon.Nirvana observed among smooth pebbles.The slough of mountain summits in decline.Every planet reprieved of its orbit.The ecstasy within a mandala.The space between spaces.Honing the blade....And this.
PoemsSitting in a corner,As I always do,Lost in the nothing,Surrounded by it too,I turn to you,Then you turn away,A scamper here,And a tumble there,Is that all the effort that you got?Laying on my bed,The ceiling above,Blank as always,Boring as always,Just like you,Lying as always,Denying as always,Is it really that hard for you to see?Turning the knob,You invite yourself in,Go away I tell you,But you ignore me,You scream and yell,You beat my insides,Making life a hell,It brings you pleasure,I know it does,You like seeing me this way,How many days I wonder,Until I fade away?Staring at me,You glare,Into insides beyond the mere,I'm only a child,A poor defenseless child,How you love watching me crumble,Being blown away by little things,You love this more than anything,And all you do is deny what I say,My soul will burn,And the insides split,While you remain unswayed....How little you see,Understanding little,Seeing little,Nothing new for me,Staying
JoyMay life whisperjoy through your veinsbefore lidding your eyes.
Inner-scopea single poemI'll never stop revising -myselfOctober '11
Solstice 2011Solstice Sun Rising,Birthing of the waxing Light,Bringing me balance.