Sometimes, when I
talk to the ex,
I feel strong
as a rope.
Nothing she says
or does fazes me.
I guard my emotions
and keep the
conversation strictly
about the kids, and
how we can better
co-parent.

Other times, when
we talk,
I feel like
Humpty Dumpty
teetering on a brick
wall.
Her cruel words
are like strong
gusts of wind
sending me to the
cold hard ground
in a thousand pieces.

On days like these
I berate myself,
"What the ****
Is wrong with you?
Why did you
let
her in again?
Her heart is
small and
diseased."

I fell in
love with
hope
and a
false image.
When I saw
reality
It was
like
finding a
snake in my
bed.

she dries her hair in sun
in red frock windborne high
dreaming there's one
one day would pass her by

enwrapping in heat
sun licks her oily skin
flows down her lithe feet
craves one peep deep within

tickles her wind's mischief
its murmurs's caress
titillates her like a leaf
paints a rose on face

with her i can spin
yearns in my core
she's sweet sixteen
i'm two scores more

I've come back now
       from the periphery -
       where the multitude of
       things with names
Occupies all thinking,
                 all emotive reaction.

This must be what is termed
       primal wisdom
       - this constant compulsion toward
         the substantive.

Your arms and your mouth
The warm breath on my skin
The caressing movements of your body
Through one transient night...

Restores all
       to simplistic clarity -
Leaves me grounded
       in the real.


- fr

Gone with the wind
waving good bye
watching tears
Silent tears
So many wishes
I wish he was there
I wish she was there
Soaring chamber
Crying within burning flames
For a moment
laughter changing to sweats
Boiling consciousness
Pleading with the air
Angry with the rain
Searching for a glance of laughter
Impalpable dark shadow
The stars in the blue
Sweet angels will bless
your soul

Written by
Jean C Bertrand

I decided not to fall in love again
Until I fall for myself.
But you...you make me yearn
For the sweetness that comes with love
And the bitter taste it leaves in my mouth.

Her feet rose and fell
between fields of paddy

the grass bowed
then looked up on her way.

If only she had wings
and the winds carried her to her sister
she could land right on the yard of her hut
and take her home by the return flight
but her mind soared no less
so before the sun favored the west
she was right by her
laughing and talking like the yore
with only a line of vermilion
that she felt had come between them.

Soon she looked around
and making sure no one was watching
brought out from her skirt a mango.

She gave it to her like
she was giving a piece of her heart
plump yellow green
with the most delicious nectar hidden within
and when she narrowed her lips
to drink from the gift
her tears poured like the summer rain
mingling with the cries of the parched earth.

In the name of nepotism
Many careers have ruined