I've dropped this Cubica today,
as often as I've dropped my heart
when I pick up the two pieces of
a broken pen, ***** them back together,
it still works
filling my lungs with vaporous poison
knowing it will eventually **** me,
I pit it against my lips and **** on it
like a straw till it blows sunshine
out of my *ss,
just what he would call a magnifying glass,
of  perspective poetry,
inhalant on course
defying destiny.
Hopefully,
seventy playgirl virgins
will soothe
that remorse,
at the very least a sepharad
of simpatico
with silly  smoking mortals
still whispering of genius.

I watched the paper
soak up the ink
as it blotched
breast strokes
across the page...
suddenly,
street bound
jazz hounds
legs,
pinioned
to pavement,
hand signals
of  July scroll by,
a memory strolls
in reverse as a
name  scrawled contra
across  wheat covered
hills...returned to me
chaotic,
lovely.

A single day
took it's light
from the crayon
colored buildings
laughter ran out
from a beautiful city
where the seagulls  
brushed it's wings
against my cheek
like lovers once
embraced
arm in arm,
long before
infancy.

A memory plucked
from the eye of
golden Roses
littering the street
in irradiant petals
like pieces
of shattered
poetry
in the blood
of a waxing
poet.

In this hollow space
I hold before the rising sun
In duty the greys will fade
as the sky shifts into it's run
I hold the hallowed word
and embrace it's lifeless eyes
Looking for a pulse
but there is none in it's disguise

Before the song comes tolled
by the early morning bird
The poet twists agony
seeking out a perfect word
The hollow echo of love's dust
is knocking at the door
Your hearts a cenotaph screaming out
Please ! Let there be no more !

The sun's rising red as an
evil eye of dread
Cold sweat is dripping now
from the brow of you head
The night's effort lies
at the bottom of the pool
All of your creations
make you look just like a fool

Now the rays of light
penetrate my aching head
This hollow empty feeling
compares to being dead
I toss my papers
halfway  across the room
The all but hallowed
are replaced now by the gloom

Every night tastes cold coffee
leaves you feeling grim
The half eaten papers
where the ink has run on thin
My emotions have all turned to lead
it's my time to go to bed
The midnight's voice is screaming
like a nightmare that hasn't been fed

I am as young as the hillside
old as a neonate
I am the miles and trials
between our distant smiles,
We will celebrate forever
we were made to believe
the gift of today is not
tomorrow; it is now.
This treasured  gift
is not a destination;
it is a journey
in seconds,
between this one and next.
We are the breathing
monument
of one life's span
in secondhand
experiences
lived within
a blink
of the
eye.

~Christi Michaels~MoonFlower~Fluer de Luna~
          
Today is my 58th Birthday!
Just now finding firm, resolute
footing here in this magical yet
ever changing world of ours.
As I take stock of my wealth of Blessings, Hello Poetry has been a heart changing event for me this last year.

You all have enriched my world. Accepted my words, my heart,
my hurts, my visions, in such a
kind and loving manner. My pen
pals around the world, we get to
share our inner thoughts, feelings in poetic form!  Such a precious way to bond. How fantastic is that? You have touched me by sharing your hearts, your worlds. Please know Dear Poets how your support, inspiration and patient kindness has strength.

As I lay curled up in the soft nest of
my bed, I do what I do
every morning now,
awake with anticipaticipation of
words that have arrived as I
have slumbered, awaiting your
writes to enrich my Day...

I send you all ripples of Love.
Please take a moment and join
me in acknowledging how unique
and special you all are ...ThankYou
for my amazing journey on HP,
and the delight in knowing It shall continue!

I thank Mark Cleavenger for being
my poetry friend. Wolf for my
beautiful pen name Fluer de Luna
Most of all, thank you Elliot for providing a safe place in which to land.
Peace and Love
Christi Michaels MoonFlower~Fluer de Luna~

Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

So many
Get their comfort
Locking their love in solitary room

I'd rather be in the open
With mine amour',
Buck baked
Grass or floor
Cuddled
Huddled
Staring at ourn moon!!!

I'm high and I'm happy and I'm free
I got my whole heart
Laid out right in front of me
And I finally can see
The way it's always been
The need for peace
Starts from within

So I leave my possessions to the wind
And I'm done with ever wanting anything
Well I can die satisfied
No desires do I hide
Not today, not today
Nor for the next one thousand lives

!!!poem gone

^

and the child of wind born innocence
chases butterflies to the edge,
gathering whispered weeds
of golden sheen,
singing in a lone sparrow’s sonnet,
soaring beyond the cliff,
sending silver lined
cloud bound wishes
to earth…below