The radiance of the star that leans on me
Was shining years ago. The light that now
Glitters up there my eyes may never see,
And so the time lag teases me with how

Love that loves now may not reach me until
Its first desire is spent. The star's impulse
Must wait for eyes to claim it beautiful
And love arrived may find us somewhere else.

I visted with a good friend today
It has been such a long while
I pulled up a bench, reached out my hands
And gave her a comfortable smile

She has never questioned my intentions
Nor asked me the reason why
After so many years I would leave her alone here
As much as she fulfills my life

For when we are wrapped up in each other
A sweet melody so often plays
I caress her ever so gently
Just the two of us as the world fades away

I never realized how much I miss her
Without hesitation she takes me back again
What we have is so far from over
My lover, my friend, my baby grand

He looks at me.
His eyes the same dark brown
as I remember them.
I feel nothing for him.
Not like I used to before.
His hair the same deep, dark brown,
like his eyes.
A spark lights up in his eyes.
He remembers me, from a distant
past so long ago and forgotten.
I say nothing to him.
He passes right by me.
No 'Hello' no 'How have you been?'.
Just nothing, not even a nod.
I belong to another.
So he doesn't matter.
But it still hurts, because I remember.
That once, a very, very long time ago,
deep in my past, that I thought
I loved him once.
I thought I loved him once.

Voices, there are voices, voices that I hear,
singing, sighing, multiplying, whispering in my ear.
Sometimes they are soft and sweet and sometimes they are mean,
I only wish I could wake up from this fear envoaking dream.
Voices, there are voices, many voices that I hear.
I wish, oh how I wish, these voices would disappear.
They chill me to the bone, in fact, to my very core,
but the only thing they ask for is "More blood, MORE!"
They scream and cry and rave at me until they get their way,
but I'm afraid that my many, many voices are hear to stay.
I wish, oh how I wish, that other people could see,
the many, many voices that are haunting me.

How do I sell my soul?
Do I get bids from hell?
I would like to market it
To get it off this earth

Constant understanding that
holds my mouth ajar.
reminiscent stars tangle with words like
"How" and "are"
tangled, mangled, strangled with that
Transylvanian tongue.

Straightened teeth bore with smile.
Oh, how the world has waited for such.
Lovely questions of impaling rulers
drinking blood
and vernacular across Carpathian
Hungarian
store owners.

Polski #1 says beautiful,
Polski #2 asks for no answer,
Orthodox Orthodontia
and Ignorance taint this experience
however lovely it may seem.

Cold is the only embrace
shaking hands struggle to write
every letter of every word presents one
good fight.
Tooth and Nail.

Glances glance eyes,
golden demise of any sort of
inside.

A perfect scowl.

where are women really safe?
how is it that society-collect FAILS
as humanity stumbles yet again.. and again?
our lady-folk are not safe..


Amaya-bai* finds little comfort but in sibilant-twin
as no eye of sun nor ginoo laid eye on this binukot

Olga is the silent-saint; believes in charity at home
yet chaos ensues too easily - she is wronged and just gets.. lost in the system

Zandile fetches precious amanzi in her sun-soaked calabash
her vigilant-sister falls.. roving guerrilla-men from the river's edge

Michelle, la petite belle, survives the daily-grind via low-coin
tubes to Champs-Élysées as assistante-de-pharmacie

Aadita,  from the outset at 15, dons a veil hiding ****** acid-burns
she has some relative-luck to escape sati later on

Amy with downtrod-heart, grabs the tram to downtown family
wearing dark glasses and gloves on rainy-day blues

Emiko graced (yet cursed) with beauty struggles with ancient-practice
despite the ban, silent-suffering lotus-gait in the tiny village

Aisha may be alive but not well from ethnic-marking tragedy
as irugu are outcast from all-too prevalent gishiri-cruelty




might as well take a trip to Vladivostok
or be dumped in a sarcophagus
beneath the Pyramids
safer there







S T - 27 sept 2013 - *freitag