I'm coo-coo for them.

Who you know
with wrists like mine?
that can flick
and fetch the waters
from their sleep.

I sling my hair
and dare the waves
to crash their crests
against the rocks.

I wash my foes
of their flaws.

Those men
who cast their eyes
along my curves
have no business fishing
for my lines
when they've got wives
at home
so I hold their stares
as I stir their demise.

Their ships
my lips
both parting
to the rhythm
of high tide.  

I tried to warn them.
I tried to keep them at bay.

Away
I sang.
But they got so tied
on my tongue
and its tune
they missed the poison
perched on my lyrics.

I lift the sea
'cause I seek their attention.
I am tempted to hang a sign:

Dear sailor boys
untie your fix
on my hips
before you find
your bow broken.
- Sincerely Siren.

Lady, lady, never start
Conversation toward your heart;
Keep your pretty words serene;
Never murmur what you mean.
Show yourself, by word and look,
Swift and shallow as a brook.
Be as cool and quick to go
As a drop of April snow;
Be as delicate and gay
As a cherry flower in May.
Lady, lady, never speak
Of the tears that burn your cheek--
She will never win him, whose
Words had shown she feared to lose.
Be you wise and never sad,
You will get your lovely lad.
Never serious be, nor true,
And your wish will come to you--
And if that makes you happy, kid,
You'll be the first it ever did.

I must not gaze at them although
Your eyes are dawning day;
I must not watch you as you go
Your sun-illumined way;

I hear but I must never heed
The fascinating note,
Which, fluting like a river reed,
Comes from your trembing throat;

I must not see upon your face
Love's softly glowing spark;
For there's the barrier of race,
You're fair and I am dark.

54

If I should die,
And you should live—
And time should gurgle on—
And morn should beam—
And noon should burn—
As it has usual done—
If Birds should build as early
And Bees as bustling go—
One might depart at option
From enterprise below!
’Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand
When we with Daisies lie—
That Commerce will continue—
And Trades as briskly fly—
It makes the parting tranquil
And keeps the soul serene—
That gentlemen so sprightly
Conduct the pleasing scene!

Every time I visit,
my hallway is the same.
The tiles breathe cold air
through my jeans, and the
bench, now occupied,
gives me a longing look.
I know I am it's favorite.

People hustle by,
busy little critters trying
make it on time for
their next class. Giving
not a second thought,
to the girl with a frozen ****
and bright red hair.

Today my hall is musical.
Filled with the symphony of
fingertips colliding with a key board.
A piece that races on with a sense
of urgency. The player, a girl
with worn black converse.

The door to my favorite class lives here,
in this hallway, with 12 or so other neighbors.
Who's noisy occupants leak
through spaces in the door frames,
and whisper their conversations in my ear.

I'm not sure where
the comfort comes from,
in this hallway where I sit.
Maybe its the assurance that
the tiles, no matter how cold,
will always have a place for me.

Maybe it's that the people shuffling
back and forth, slowly become familiar.
Or maybe it's just because I need
something here to help me feel at home.
Maybe this is just the place I picked to be my safe haven.
A spot of comfort in a campus of confinement.

I did it again, though I swore I never would, that the last time was the end
leaving me wondering at my own morals and the value of my word
and how much in life is built on "never again"?
The dirtiness, tangible and muddy,
the soil on my soul
Lord I swear, I just don't know how I allow
myself to be cajoled
but the breath on my neck and the honey on his lips
make me surrender it all, make me want to lost it all,
just to taste a bit,
so I take another hit,
and get home under the sheets and fill myself with why's,
not even truly sorry,
and craving the music in his sighs