Angelic Burning, Sinful Yearning**

Time stood still once.
The earth spun off its axis,
the moon dropped from the sky
as leaves turned bright lemony
and violety blue.
You wrote me a poem
covered in gypsy dust,
laced with ****,
lust filled sin,
and I devilishly took you in
as you whispered seductively,
“Do you get it now!?”
~~~
Oh yes, my love,
I get it.
But I must ask,
“Do you get
I hold you like fire
inside my heart?”
~~~
And then time started again.
An Autumn moon
got caught in my dream catcher’s web
as stars ran in circles
dripping cosmic radiation
on wildflower ecstasies
of insanity’s desires
and you vanish into the
dark vistas of night,
leaving me only this
angelic burning
and sinful yearning

Are you still out there?

Aztec Warrior 12.22.15

DUCT TAPE**

"Abdullah Thani Faris al Andzi lost both his legs in a U.S. bombing campaign in Afghanistan while he was employed as a humanitarian aide worker. After his first leg was amputated, he was arrested by bounty hunters and turned over to U.S. forces. While in custody, his second leg was amputated. He has been held at Guantanamo since 2002, where he has received inadequate medical treatment and often been forced to walk using prosthetic limbs held together only with duct tape."
- from "poems from Guantanamo: the Detainees Speak"

~~~~~

As the bombs rain,
they tell us they are for peace.
So I ask them:
Do flowers bloom
or grass grow
held in such chains;
or seeing humans
suffer such pains?
~~~~~
Mountains weep,
and I speak in tear filled oceans,
whose ebb and flow
erode my beach of hope;
all I have left are curses
told in Arabic qasid verses.
~~~~~
As the bombs rain,
ripping apart innocent people's limbs,
they say they are for peace.
And I ask:
will birds fly
and sing their songs,
or will they,
like so many of us,
have only plastic legs
held together with duct tape?

~~redzone (Aztec Warrior) 9.23.10
(Another earlier poem I wrote using a different pen name)

UDO**
(means 'peace' in Nigeria)

What is in a name?
Sometimes it is a story.
Sometimes it is just a dream.
~~~~~
Your story began,
as many stories do these days,
"The men came and they...
     burned my village-
     ***** my girls-
     killed my husband-
     cut off my *******.
     I ran away-
     through the bush-
     found a ship-
     crossed the sea-
     and then they put me in here..."
~~~~~
I read your story,
then had to put the book down-
especially when I could see
the woman with no name,
a woman who had no papers
to prove she was real,
dangling from the rafters,
chain gripping her neck
in a breathless embrace;
her feet swaying
showing her nakedness,
her paperless demise.
You told how she peed herself at the end.
Her once life a liquid puddle on the floor.
And I couldn't read anymore,
her image burned too brightly.
Even tears could not ease the realization
the cold-chained grip
was more loving
than living her life,
than being forced to return home,
facing the way every story began-
"the men came and they..."
~~~~~
Your story didn't stop there,
it refused to be quiet
and held me close,
as page after page
revealed more of your life;
made me question my humanity.
~~~~~
You gave me your secret,
whispered it in my ear
and asked,
"would you cut off your finger
for the likes of me"?
"Would you dowse the flames of oppression
with the redness of your blood?"
"Would you fall on the enemies sword,
let it rip out your beating heart"?
"Would you give your all to change the world"?
"Would you, would you?"
~~~~~
You gave me your secret,
whispered it in my ear...
You gave me your name.
You gave me your story
and more, you gave me
a dream, a reason to live.

~~redzone (Aztec Warrior)1.18.2011
(as you can see, wrote this poem a few years ago
using a different pen name)

POEM 102

*It was the summer of ‘42,
her hair fell to her back,
streaked with sun light
and scented with salty air.
As her tanned toes
wiggled in the sand,
she turned and smiled-
a brown eyed, freckled smile,
pulling me
into a sea shell spiraling summer;
into a warm ocean’s kiss.

Aztec Warrior 12.14.15

POEM 101
Devouring You In Poetry**

I awake to tangerine,
red licorice skies
staring at me with
chocolate covered caramel eyes,
creating apple spiced flavored,
cotton candied words
that kaleidoscope
off my tongue,
down my chin
moving my finger tips
to drip
gooey marshmallow
and smiling butterscotch words
across your lavender scented,
sleeping rhythmically
cherry cream *******.
~~~
With desirous morning sighs
your blueberry lips,
and open arms
invite me in;
into your humid jungle folds
to bathe in your gorges
and waterfalls,
unleashing my coppery nouns,
my amethyst adjectives
into your liquid opal synonyms,
devouring me in your rich tones
of ****** poetry.
~~~
With our metaphors
deliciously spent,
and a golden sun
rising toward the moon,
you nestle even closer
and whisper
in alive, wild poppy hues,
“tonight, my love, fill me with haiku,
as I come to you in sonnets.

Aztec Warrior 12.11.15