A fistful of time...
Saw the doing and the undoing
of misguided hands.

A fistful of words...
Hurled in exchange,
like expended rounds that
drew more than they should.

A fistful of life...
Taken for granted
and traded in for
forgotten sands.

A fistful of heart...
Wrung dry by familiar digits...
Suffocating still...
Like I knew it would.

By Arcassin Burnham

I don't really count my blessings
If I did,
I'd keep a notepad,
I haven't really learned my lessons
If I did
I'd be on the right path,
Or a bunch of outskirts pushing and landing
In my way and putting voices in my head to
Help me take away the pain of feeling the
Pressure to move forward in my life and
Better myself in this cruel and sick twisted
Planet where there are all false teaches,
No more fake speeches,
No more stars in the sky for people's reaches,
No more fun or sunshine
For the people that get stepped on and
Ridiculed,
No more keeping folks in line for all these
Stupid rules,
Things have been getting real vacant
leaving my life to struggle,
I will not die a coward.

/

I've been on my own since the day
has gone
all my friends are gone
I'm just still at home
of course I'm all alone
I'm just waiting on......
the right day
I've been on my own since the day has gone
the skies are red
I'm feeling dead,
but I wanna die the right way
with something lodged in my head
I've been on my own.

Today a tree , tomorrow a bluebird
Later becoming an Elm ,
a pelican out to sea
I was once tall grass
Growing tall in the gulf breeze ,
warmed in Georgia sun , my friend
was a Boxelder , we sought the
shelter of navy blue sky windows
I fell in love with a heron sailing from
east to west , my passion was to be the afternoon
moon or a magical Willow at rest
My dad was a cardinal , my mother was the nurturing waters
of Indian creeks , my siblings were the blackberries of
July , grandmother a doe , grandfather a raven
Death is merely a transition
Life is forever* ..

When the moon hovers hallucinated
on the post canal
breaking in bubbles of fish breath
the white widow of the night
revives her long dead tongue
to lick the scales of your skin
pulling you into her bed of nails
making love with you the whole night
leaving you bruised and insatiate
when they find your shadow
scouring the edge of the canal
with her name on its lip.

You can bite me hard
I will pet you back.

Ma Cherie © 2017

Warmth is what we crave, our hearts fuel to the fire, caressing one another's flesh, taking each other higher, fight my bruising kisses, let me tease you as I mar, that which I do worship, every heartbeat, every scar, cage my hand inside yours, hold me tighter than you dare, constrict around my heart my love, it's open and it's bared.