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Clouriette Feb 2012
Down to the Storehouse of Amenti I rose
Curling a sleeping kitten
Striped grey with a pink nose
I was charged with it’s protection

Through witch’s warm cottages
and priests’ church perches
I met a dark-haired guide
A wanderer lost in the circle
Of a troubled spirit’s tides

Followed he to the escalator
I chose, rising up
Through the forbidden fruits of mankind
Material wealth is perishable goods
And poison to the mind

As the stairs slid into a ramp
A stranger pin-striped with lies
Caught me in his paws and smiled his canines
Scared, I said “I must follow my guide.”

But in this brief encounter
The direction of him I surrendered
And turned about on a lost head and stumped feet
But he was nowhere in sight.

So I chose a new path
Gathering my lace skirts to my knees
And risked my sake on a roll of Fate’s dice.

Followed my soul to the base of another stairwell
This one with wooden roots pecking at my feet
Faired I well and higher I rose
With each new well in between

Four wells I found, one going down,
And landed I next to some people.
I changed the rods to make the cross
Easier to bear for those people.
And next I found where one good deed abounds
Another is sure to follow...

And since I was sure
That my guide would be seething
Sick with waiting for hours,

Directions I sought
From a golden-braided broad
Thick she is with Wisdom-giving.

She said, “Travel to the Fourth Floor
And seek nothing more
Than the Stairwell that takes you to the bottom.”

I passed up a ride on a star ship
Docked, and shaking in its power
Children bubbled with laughter
As I watched it lift off from its tower

I passed up the last gate-
The Stairwell that led to Heaven
Four-stride across and glowing sky-blue
Like the light of the star-flowers found in my garden
It called to me like the tomb.

But too strong was my longing
To return to the beginning
Where my guide would be delayed

So I turned from the staircase
Straight into an elevator
Where a young operator escorted me away

Blasted to the bottom and shown the door
To face life’s routine boredom
To match what was written
In his sour expression
Even as by his side I left the store.

So was this a test by the Lords of the Cycles
To see where my loyalties rest?
Or was this a message
Like what one sees in the mirror
About the illusion of fear?
Clouriette Sep 2012
My fingernails crave your skin
Hard red assassins
My fingernails sweep your skin
Texturizing our love

In every corner of your body
Your breath is twitching
Melodiously
You fill with air

Speak to me in tongues
On a plate like a breaded chicken breast
Marinating in a fine Italian wine and Balsamic Vinaigrette
Sauce craving an open flame
Homemade.

I'm falling asleep
I'm falling asleep
To the digging of a Disco party on a late
Friday night in yellow polyester baby blue You forgot
To pick me up, again but it's okay 'cause I'm
Stayin' Alive.
In a plexiglass life.
See right through it, it's translucent
Then never look at me again.
Clouriette Mar 2012
For the guy
For the girl
Meltin out in
The heat
Of the state of this world
Say it out loud
The Sound
When you laugh
You cry
When you say hello
You say goodbye
When you say no
It's really do or die
Dont freeze in the cold
Keep your belly full
Of the truths in your soul
Love your own
Shimmering
Design
Cause when the clouds roll
And darken the
Skies' pastels
Just take off somewhere else
Fly South
Swallow up the crust
And share your sweat
Every storm aligns in time.
Clouriette Mar 2012
The Phoenix King

To the tower
The rogue watcher
With skylight eyes he climbs high
Passing his fears and the lies of civilization.

How I wish he had my comforts
Of warmed Herbs
And Turkish pillows
And Lanterns rumbling with the purrs of lions.

How I wish I could walk with him
Through portraits long-forgotten
To get lost in love
Found by her brooks
Of magical kingdoms, fern-laden.

But he wills to climb higher
Than the rest of us wingless-beasts
His eyes gaze out into the sea
Perked to warn of the coming storm
Those that wait below his feet.

He is not the Broken King
He is the Robin’s egg of Spring
A seed sprouting wings of lace and crystal blue.

He has soaked up the Star shine
He collects every drop of dew
And scatters these diamonds from his pencil-tower
Like birdseed for pigeons
Granting every falling wish
-Its truth.

— The End —