heartache

What if? we have two hearts like we had two everything else would we then? be more wanting more receiving would we? hurt less long less …or at least less on each side repair better love equally balance the brain or outweigh it if needed accumulate more therefore, give more and abundantly stay young at

Trinket Box

Trinkets handkerchief’ed inside that glazed box Testament to many and resilient joys Mysterious key that turned in its lock   Emeralds limpingly dangle as ear drops Grace then favored the small and less Rainbow colored gems embedded into tops   Silver rusting yet raging bold Temple bells alongside peacock motifs Chokers and slender necks to behold  

Creation

Adam and Eve took the garden Eden was witness to their plea rewrite that plot banish the serpent bestow luscious apples create in harmony death not penalty cane and abel born of love religion forced vernacular symbolism of fear forcing reverse inspiration icons always cynical identities streamlined suitably illustrations pitching sanctity roam free forwards flawless

a lost conversation

  Almost erased By the white of the walls And the aseptic gowns Almost recovered When she held his hand And made him touch her dimpled skin Almost lost Yet he made a full throated appeal His conversation a desperate plea ” Give me his life, my son is too young I will barter you

The Turbaned Tornado – in inspiration

NaPoWriMo 2017   Running from perceptions and into his identity Stereotypes and comfort zones broken at every step Jogging across thresholds, crossing marathons with empathy Sprinting through journeys that can make the mind inept   Training with pain, heartbeats in healing Finish lines left behind in every chase Partnership side by side, each stride in seeking Every mile adding

Keepsake

NaPoWriMo 2017 Bold in colors, intimately interspersed with stanzas of drama Lightly sensuous tassels spread carelessly on the couch Assuring memories carefully snuggled into a woven panaroma Negative clutter discarded with leftover skeins in the pouch Keeping adequete rhythm white metal hooks singing row after row Easing into the drape were stories gathered into mysterious reams Toes and fingers popping out of twisted holes in the blanket squares Souvenir of bundled

Nocturne Flame

Blossoming skies whisper a tease Kissing buds savor a sweet breeze Curving eager boughs crackle in pain Brimming in chorus, the lantern burns in vain   Transcendence stains the shadows above A visual orchestra on the embers of love In those vestigial minutes of the day A naked tranquil entwines the night in play  

a loving skirmish

NaPoWriMo 2017   Today, my love   I write to get provocative, just for the sake of it Reminiscence can write a good story, moreover, it is cathartic A little healthy skirmish, therefore with a few questions from me Maybe we have a winner or maybe we conclude it is about you and me together

Stop it in the middle

NaPoWriMo2017 Stop it in the middle Feel no pressure at being pushed to the finish line The act began, with an assumption that you are second fiddle His satisfaction,your humiliation is not what is fine Imagine if you end, he zips up,shuts down, swings away and off You likely, cuddle painfully into a wishful womb,

on my dada’s knee

NaPoWriMo 2017 For hour’s I devoured, stories of a world abandoned Faraway lands that came to life, his pupils and his hands in tandem; I sat on my dada’s knee Shaking couplets, tears intercepted with guffaws Fingers caressed the spineless book that had escaped, also outlawed; I sat on my dada’s knee Horseback rides, orchard