I’m going to kiss your lips,
they are cold and taste like the word America)Quote)*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am going to say curry, turmeric, ginger and, garlic
The secret to one’s health:
the true radiant of loving ones’ body:
Like this secret place in my mind
The Gardens at Marqueyssac, Vézac, France.(relaxing)

I’m going to make love to you like the internet explorer
Two words Private mode: just to quench the thirst (even though)
It wiser to separate the two, business and pleasure
One word complication: never bed your business partner (unless)
If you can pulled it off like my heroine McKenzie Bezos (go for it)

I’m going to exam your tockley,
It’s sinful, and deadly, like the  initials S.T.D
I am going to end here with a prayer,
Asking for guidance, and Lysol sprays:


Dark Poem

The dead embrace the dirt
They will never sprung like
April tulips, on a frigid day,
Or survive as long as Hyperion roots

(The beginning of love is horror
of happiness (quote: Robert Bly)

So, let my poetry filled you up: with the knowing
(The dead are for morticians & butchers
to touch. Only a gloved hand)
before the dust….and ashes

Be more afraid of the living,
with their cold and warm hands
and deceitful minds above all things
they  spit and vinegar tongues

The living embraces the struggle of staying alive
Due to the many heartache and sorrows
~~~
(When those we love betray our trust,
We find the depth of human pain;
Oh, let me rise above these hurts
Until the sun shines, once again!
~Gertrude Tooley Buckingham, "My Prayer" (1940s)
*
So , let my poetry filled you up with knowledge of knowing
The dead cannot harm you any more,
Way down upon the earth floor,

Let the tulips once again bloom
However, let the earth worm do the rest.
Under the tallest tree in the world: coast redwood
Hyperion:

I move alone in the dark unseeing,
as I move toward the door, I remember,
there is only one direction
And that is back to the warmth of my bed
on this cold April day.....

The littlest things we dream about, that was so dear
Can be detrimental, because of modern technology
The lack of touch, the loss of sound, gone forever:

Lately, I have been transitioning words
Like Palate cleansers, Bayonne,
Sangria instead of writing
A daily poem, sometimes we just have to take a step
Back, and think, I came across this wonderful comedy show
The Neighbors’, which was pilot since 2012,
This show had last for two years: great lines
With some wonderful actors and actresses,

I can related, after feeling so alienated myself
being in this foreign country: Since 1983
I once lived in a small town in New Jersey,
Hiller circle, Red bank another part of New Jersey
(Me) an Island girl felt, like a real out of space Alien
Living amounts those upper class ****** folks:

I only last two years in that small town
my poor pride wouldn’t allowed it…
My pride was stronger than my feelings:
I had grown fond of Sally and Brad,
But, I knew

“Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

I could have been a wonderful poet,
if only I had only taken on this craft seriously,
I love my quiet times on my keyboard,

I never pay much attention to rhyming,
My words are diary entries, to cleanse my palette
De stressing without taking a walk outside into
The Funky low grade city air in New York City:

*Never be afraid to raise your voice for honesty and truth and compassion against injustice and lying and greed. If people all over the world...would do this, it would change the earth

I was sitting on the black stool,
next to her bed
she was elevated into a sitting position:
waiting to be fed,

I seriously thought by now,
She would have been dead:
Her fragile body, the determination,
Of the outcome of her life span:
makes her seems untouchable:
first born,, walk in
with a grin on his face,
his thoughts was similar to mines
She should have been dead by now

Small conversation, mostly about politics
His fruitless marriage and memories;
Of her teaching him how to tie his shoes lace,
a contemptible, socially inept person. In a suit

I should have dress her in her black dress
to match his suit, it would have been effortless
with the struggle of getting her into it…
I remember his break the silence moment:
Did you voted for Trump?
Why would he not.. asked how is my mother doing?
Did politics seem to matters most to him,
Or her wellbeing: In such a vegetable state?

I took a few steps down the corridor.
on my way back his visit was over:
tops five minutes

To him she is worth only five minutes of his time:
a contemptible, socially inept person. In a suit
she sang at his wedding, she taught him
how to ties his shoe lace,

she lay upon the bed with a tube up her nose
Waiting: for them to rain on her grave

Because my kiss is like frequency and measure as the waves
My lips stays Plumper as a ripe cherry on a hot day
Just waiting to be kiss, in the moonlight:

The littlest things we dream about, that is so dear
Can be detrimental, because of modern technology
The lack of touch, the loss of sound, gone forever:

Shall we continued to forget the walks in the park
Making love in the dark, under the starry sky
Just to be trade in by the late nights video chatting?

Being an advocate of love, a unmasked spiritual intruder:
I enter the winging maypole of merry gestor: In my mind

because, my kiss is like frequency and measure as the waves
my opinion on the subject matter, never matters

P.S
**Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.” Dr Suess