Her dreams are sky-dance
streams of on-high romance

Her life remains planted
adored by all who know
her beauty's not taken for granted
Yet she scorns earthly lovers

Child of divided genes
part sky part ground
seeks heavenly rather than earthly scenes.

Her life is sky-dance
Her reality buries romance
~
NM
07/06/14

I pray this pupil’s prayer,
penitent for desiring
an end to this madness
of clearing away snow,
only to find more, compact,
beneath the loose surface
      No two snowflakes alike
each snowflake falls with grace
absorbed by tuition fees,
books, books, books!
O the books pour down
clusters of refurbished
cognitive technicalities
      Each unique in its crystal formation
drench my shoes to full with repositories
of Professor gods’ wounded knees and sore egos
do I leggo my Eggo
to feast on academia’s wine
glut on the ambrosia of fine whine?
      What privilege to live in Snowflakia
the snowbanks are too high, Sir!
-still I climb, seeking purchase-
It takes too much time!
-yet I wade through the drifts-
of alabastards’ Judas kiss
       A Snowflake ingrate nation
in turn taken for madness
I cannot find a flick
to fling away wet sopping masses
of absence from classes
brain drain juices taste like molasses
I revile the texture of their pasty *****...
       You haven’t a chance in Hell-
-Ye Gods! Mea Culpa!
I am sorry, O Ponderous Purveyors,
for my blasphemous prayers
I will see the glass is
full of wine not molasses,
I will be a good snowflake and fall
into my pre-planned place
       Your liquid body will purify the well
I want to fall with grace
so I may rise without disgrace.
~
NM
02/04/19

I like to watch
you squirm
worm

I enjoy picking
off your wings
fly

It delights me
to unravel your web
spider

I savour
crushing your skull
snake

I long to pull
off your horns
bull

I like the box
I built you
worm

I enjoy the
tweezers I bought
fly

It delights me
how you used my posts
spider

I savour crushing
your head under snakeskin boot
snake

I long for you
to see my red shirt
bull
~
NM
04/28/19

Is what her profile reads
I feel this statement needs
More than minor revision
For her words malign my vision

Of an exquisite lady
(a bit plump, maybe)
yet her eyes are a sweet fountain
Where my heart longs to remain

Her hair is a lush wonder that fills
My mind with life like the Pembina Hills
Her plush skin is preciousness bronzed a ***
Kissed softly by they passing of Apollo the sun god

There is no “just”
about her I must
become more aware
of a beauty rare

Could this lovely
lady speak with me
Seek to see what the stars mean for there to be
If I am to be meant for her, and her for me?
~NM
08/31/19

Love,
lost or unrequited, cuts the very soul more deeply than all the
socio-culture-quasi-religious-politically-unable-to-correctly-in­fer-idio-ology
hokum this world can produce,
proliferate through propagation

There is no soul so grieved as one wading through the murk-stained waters of what once was a garden of carnal delights

The edge of love, discarded or disdained, is the Cosmic Surgeon's scalpel, bifurcating each person, paring the genius from the idiot and throwing away the genius

            L. O. V. E. D.

Five letters, for esoteric sages, three times trysting in amour’s lapsed too true virtue, powered by one ringing heap of dazed, confused hot mess to rule them all.

Take care, beautiful “I love you still”
Good luck, good night,
Go with God
Tell him I whisper a fond adieu
~
N.M.
12/20/16

Heaven’s pale
Earth remains
Fog obscures
Ground sustains

Heaven is still
listen for His voice
to know His will
cratered in choice

Heaven’s pale
God sustains
Fog obscured
Life’s remains

Heaven is wintry
as it remains still
frozen like a sentry
upon the hill

Heaven’s pale
lines between earth
angels become blurred
waiting for words of worth

Heaven is placed on earth
frigid borders pocked
scarred pilgrim’s valley
sacred treasure locked

Heaven is pale
while we remain on earth
Heaven is still
there when we leave earth
Heaven is wintry
days giving way to spring
Heaven is placed on earth
so each valley is treasure unlocked

Heaven remains
when fog obscures
Heaven is still
to know His will
Remains still
Upon the hill
~
NM 09/29/19

I was busy chasing rainbows, dragons, and unicorns
I probably caught a leprechaun or maybe the Jackalope
Do I regret being busy? Nope!

I was busy solving the world’s problems with love’s power
So busy I forgot to shower
And grew my personal jungle
Where I was busy chasing tigers with the help of bears and panthers

If I say I was busy
I was actually a bee
or maybe a bee’s knees
Because nothing’s more busy
than a bee collecting pollen

If I tell you I am busy
A volcano exploded,
and my path’s corroded
by lava pits perilous
and hungry magma monsters

If I tell you I am busy
I may be counting sheep
for little Bo Peep or to sleep
Trying to cuddle with my stuffed buds

If I tell you I’m busy,
I’m busy in a way most people may not understand
but you do, because you’re grand
~
NM
03/17/20

*for Harly