honey let me show you pretty words
let me strum your veins
feel the tinkle of my chimes
let the letters make love to you
they know about your dimples
not just the ones on your face
and they know about the way your voice
plays on waves like a sparrow
let them flutter on your tongue
and know you are incredible
let them prod at your mind
and dream of adequacy
for your intellect is dizzying
let fairy dust dance on your nose
because you must be magic
let me love you
let these words love you
I wanna look dark
Like mascara shadows under you eyes
After Friday night
And I want to wear night colors
And a sinister knowing smirk on my face
And the guys will be like
"Damn I wonder"
"She looks poisonous"
And maybe I will be
And I wanna light the bowl
And flutter my eyes while I do it
And I'll look so jaded when I laugh
Black shorts dark top dark shoes
Dark room for dark me and you
I wanna have purple nails
And a nose ring!
I’m afraid of the ocean when its waves rush forward,
its translucent arms wrapping around the impressions of my feet..
The ocean is a mother giving birth,
life surging forward and then receding in the swirls of salt and sun.
Its belly has captured the souls of sailors and broken ships.
Ghosts drag on the bottom floor choking on their entrails.
A 15th century wood-hulled ship is their playground,
And they gnaw on the golden coins that flutter down onto each floor
as the wood shrivels with the weight of plankton.
She is the undertow
And she is the rip current.
She surrounds us
And we will never escape her.
Watching the curtains flutter was relaxing,
the window was open wide letting in a breeze,
it was evening but the air was warm,
and there was a strong smell in the air,
a summer smell,
it was one of those intense nostalgic kind of smells,
that flare up emotions with old memories,
and people in the gardens were laughing and drinking.
We were lying down on a mattress on the floor in your dad’s room,
my pale white skin touching against your beautiful Arabic skin,
the colour of coffee.
A perfect mixture, sweet coffee and milk,
surely we were made for each other?
And you had your tiny arm wrapped around my waist,
your soft hand holding my chest,
and on my back I could feel your small breasts,
and your lips breathing hot breath down my neck
I was almost asleep.
A construct of mine.
What that eye contact causes.
Arcing across senses without any pausage.
Wicked I say.
Baby wants to play.
Money can't by it
Needs no rehearsal.
Once you lock in there is no reversal.
I'm into the gritty now
Babes way past pretty now.
The heat is on.
She is speaking my lingo.
To be or not to be
That is the question.
An infinity wasted..
Come hither post haste
But slow your roll. This is butter
Did I hear my soul stutter?
Joltage can make your heart
I want you now.
Here we go.
You know what I mean.
When nothing but nothing.
That Jolt is off the hook.
Of the chain.
A live wire.
A humming sound.
Eyes push past 20/20
Mists of beauty
Sprinkles of rain
On the beautiful trees
Raindrops on the green grass
Raindrops on the lacy ferns
Raindrops everywhere I turn
Pines and evergreens
And lovely cedars sweet
Saturated in raindrop kisses
Such a lovely prelude
The misty forest
This I say
No matter what
This is where Fairies live
This is where Fairies dance
This is where their wings flutter
In the ever blowing breeze
This is where the harps
This is where their songs are sung
This is where the Fairies harp
Plays nocturnal melodies
And graceful notes
This is where my Fairies live
Parallel to you who finds comfort in the light,
I find peace where you flutter, in the depths of night.
You’re chased and swatted and hurtled outside,
I do hope you can find somewhere bright to hide.
For my darkness is my contentment, peaceful, serene
My mind falls absent, happily empty of the obscene.
Does the darkness outside, fill you with trouble and worry
Like the impending rising sun sets my mind a flurry?
Oh wise old moth, please stay as long as you need,
My bedside lamp can be your refuge, no need to plead.
You don’t have to tell me why you’re here, or open up to me,
Cause your presence here alone is a pleasure to see.
In twenty-four hours you’ll be looking for new lights to borrow
But please remember, wise moth,
I’ll be awake and lonely again tomorrow.
moth wings flutter
the porch light
Sad symphonies still linger on the breeze
And tears like raindrops fall
Memories of yore float back to me
On the dancing wind
The breeze stirs the tall green grass
Bittersweet memories flood through my head
And leave me crying
My tears turn into dewdrops
And wake the world anew
They kiss the silk petals of
And make the world
Glitter with raindrops
That had been once my tears
To the song of Nature
Played on harps of sparkling gold
And on violas sweet
Violins create a lovely prelude
Of majestic beauty
Little sheer wings
Barely visible appear
And I realize with sudden spark of joy
That the Fairies have come
Their wings flutter and blow my brown hair
And my blue eyes sparkle with joy
Their soft hands gently stroke my cheeks
And their fingers stroke my brown hair
Then their cherry lips
Sweetly kiss my cheek
And then they say goodbye
And I am left alone once more
In that meadow
Where memories returned once more
As they did before
Leaving me sad
The world around us is like to one grand sea,
An enormous place where not everyone knows me.
But I still view this place as an opportunity,
Where, if you so wished it, you could be a tree.
I also perceive this world as inspiration waiting to take flight.
After all, my best stories have always hid and waited until I have tucked myself in tight,
Then gleefully reveal themselves to me in a vivid dream during the night.
In the morning, they earn their wings and flutter about my mind as I write, write, write.
This is why, to me, every little nook and cranny of this ‘sea’ is irreplaceable.
It makes me truly believe that all my wildest dreams – and fears – are faceable.
Even though it often gently reminds me that my fate is inescapable,
My will to change the future events in my life is unbreakable.
However, this world can also be a chore,
So frustrating that I want to punch through a door.
Or such an absolute and utter bore,
That the lack of anything to do or see leaves me numb to my core.
The people here can also be rude,
Causing me to do nothing but stare into space and brood.
Even though I try not to be like those individuals, horrid and crude,
My hate still occasionally eats me alive as if I am food.
Yet, despite all the negativity aimed at my self-confidence like a dart,
I still believe that this world is a beautiful work of art.
For every time I give up on life, I’m given another start,
A restart on the race to finding the true happiness that sleeps in my heart.