I bought a pack of pens
The nice ones
But I'm anxious so
I only look at them
I bought the pens yesterday
I've opened them
The nice pens
But I'm anxious so
I haven't used them
Even though I
Am very curious
About the ink
And if it
Flows fluidly
Or paints itself
In the depression
Of the pressure
From my hand
There is one sitting in front of me
A nice pen
I'd like to know how it writes
But I'm anxious so
I can't pick it up
It sits
I have so much to say
But I am anxious so
Maybe later
I'll have forgotten
What it was
I ever wanted
To write
With the nice pen
In the first place

Don't be afraid of love,
that fear will never let you find it.

Cherie Nolan© 2016

I feel the heat
                 upon my neck
                  sparking fire,
                   just a peck
                     liberated,
                 what the heck
                    kissing lips
                 & moving hips
                  touching me
                with fingertips
                hot and steamy,
                 & very dreamy
                   skin of gold
                smooth & creamy
                  inked in breath
                 & just like death,
                come to take me
                 then forsake me
                  words you utter,
                make me shudder                
                     afterthoughts
                 a coming morning
                   & even though
                 ample warning
                  your way inside,
                   you are horning
                      romancing
                of the coming reaper
                   our feelings go,
                   so much deeper
                       not so much,
                 a peaceful sleeper
                      cannot wait
                    or take a pause
                   surgery needed
                     for the cause
                     releasing me,
                    a lovely clause
                    plunging knife,
                      causing pain
                       cutting out
                      the ugly vein
                      taking hold,
                   a waving mane
                      telling me,
                    familiar songs
                     come inside
                 where you belong
                       even if,
               they think it wrong
                darkened hearts,
                 climbing walls
                  a melancholy
                   southern drawl
                   like a wanting
                    Vodoo doll
                 pounding sound
                 inside your chest
                    Am I cursed
                 or am I blessed?
             buried in a loamy nest
              heart arrhythmia
                   taking start
                 take a blade,
                 remove my heart
                    taking love
                    & pull apart
                  I hold it beating
                     in my hands
                   relieved at last
                   of its demands
                   as shadows fall
                   low in the deep
                   of promises
                   we'll never keep
                    curling toes,
                   as blood it seeps
             colored in cascading red
                 of endless nights
                     that I have bled
              laid at last, telluric bed
                   I'm melting slow
                   into your arms
                     dissolved into
                the haunting charms
                       glad that I,
                  just bit the farm
                        lying in
                   a field of wheat
                    covered by
                  my linen sheets
                    a **** place
                    for us to meet
                     & burning
                 in the guilty heat
                I'll write you here,
                 inside my room
                    skies apart,
                 forgiving gloom
                     push aside
                 impending doom
                 or what dangers
                   wait & loom
                 I wait for death
                    & love
                    ...to bloom

                Cherie Nolan © 2016