We're old friends, already
Whirled up in the wheel of time
A pacing symphony  
Passing through the telephone  

For hours on end.  
We do not deter from this trend  
Rhythm and rhymes, reunions and recusancy  
Always together, and on the same frequency

In a second we crisscross the ocean  
Building up our literary scene    
Our secret and permitted panacean  
Ointment, we've never once foreseen

That we're old friends, already  
Your wise heroes advisers of my own  
We share so much tenderness  
With which we could clothe dawn.

Written to  John Maloney,  
July 5, 2018  
Lyon, France
For @John Maloney, in honor of many an hour spent on the phone. For over 5 years.
You sink into the fresh cotton ocean
fragranced by the oriental softener
I want you to reach into your inner
most abyss, while I pick my lotion.

We are alone my love, tonight
I owe you with my hands, give up the fight
Trust me, while I weave a warm thread of
tenderness on you, with me, you tread.

My fingers cascade and snake along your spine
I dedicate this moment to you. My message
is carved into you during this slow massage
To me, you are truly defenseless, thus divine

Imperceptibly, I skim your skin,
your breath, I appease
my angel, dream with ease
fallen asleep at my shin.

April 9, 2018
To Laurentin
Poem a Day Challenge Day 7
“Write a senses poem”
Black inked signs constellate the book
An alien seizes the pages with its code
It’s humming a tune in js node
Transcribing the object with bits it took.

Computing rows of digits to see
On its cover an apple tree
Lit up on the smooth pad you hold
For this ebook, you have just sold.

April 6, 2018
Lyon
April poem a day challenge: Write an intelligence poem
A dark line snakes along the shoreline
Vanishing into a towering temple
Home to the finest Michelin cuisine
The ravenous crowd awaits, raven-clad, fangs out.

Chef Yukinosuke’s obnoxiously fragranced guests
Survived his expertly orchestrated dinner with death
They devoured his fugu main course, without remorse
Humping with a familiar demon, gatekeeper to hell

Muffled screams can be heard behind the rice paper curtain
A clamor of voices arises, one can hardly maintain
The merciless knives wielders, red lips kissing bone
Eternally insatiable of sins they can’t atone

For. Yukinosuke adjusts the nori bond
Of this new victim, his room will be fond
One poised drop of noir caviar in her navel
Her scaled-tail undulates, tale-tell

Signs of her struggles before slaughter.
Queen of the seven oceans served with a side
Of whipped up seaweed cream from the tide
Her breast perspiring under a life-like lotus flower.



Before her, watering mouths stare in disbelief
Lusty men eye her perfectly tamed skin
A woman sadistically touches her finger to her shin
Yukinosuke’s knife glistens, still free from grief.

Marred mermaid munched at midnight
Lusterless tuffs of salt-streaked hair
Vanished into thin air.
A trampled on silky red ribbon in lieu of a gag
Remains. Her turquoise scales to be made into a bag.

April 8, 2018
Write a poem a day April challenge: Day 6: Write a food poem
Despite the tone of the poem, I'm no vegan, sushi is, sadly, one of my favorite dishes.

Inspired by
Little Mermaid by jkim121411: https://www.deviantart.com/art/Little-Mermaid-468659893
Don’t stop writing
Till you’ve blushed
Enough to say it’s good
Till you’ve bled enough
To feel it’s said
Till you’re despised
For what you stand for.

Still your breath
Pace your rhythm
Feel your core
Patient.
Embedded in the ground
Ocean wave passing
Spindrift
Swell at your soul
Serene
Soothed.
April Challenge Day 3: “Write a don’t stop poem, Write a stop poem.
The needle inched closer
To his palpitating pain
In a sigh, in vein
It was stabbed deeper.

The rush of thrill
Shushed him still.
His nerves numbed
He kicked, in vain.

His demise followed suit
In a stainless jumpsuit.

April 06, 2018
Write a Poem a Day Challenge day 4 : Case (blank)
April 1 prompt a day Secret poem



Was the bookworm introvert type at school
Became a language nerd Basque Latin Greek German
Never, in the flesh, loved a woman
A friend passed away and with him our first caress
Will always be refreshed by the ocean’s recess  
A newborn baby battle incubator but before dad a fool.

Get drunk while traveling on the beauty of miles
But never once got plastered in a bar
Consigned all my secrets to various files
With words my passport, I walked alone and far
Left a piece of my smile on Californian soil
I follow the track of friends squirrels, my foil.

Long lost sea poet always hoping new sun
Never depressed or repressed yet not blessed
Clearly narcissistic but fight to survive, run
Helping people on my way but they know best
Learned to stand the pain, turned it into power
A scorpion at heart, yet afraid of fire.
Thanks to my friend John Maloney who introduced me to Robert Lee Brewer's literary blog, I can announce I've written the first poem according to this blogger's prompt.
http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides
I'm late, it's already begun. I'm catching up. 3 more to write to be on schedule.
The portrait is dusty, behind our bookshelf
Inked on a thick beige sheet of paper
We’re shades of black, quivering bodies
Our eyes evasive, no mirror of the self
Sitting through this ordeal to see a stranger
For her quill we cuddled, we were at ease.

Poetry, like art, is deceiving sometimes
I wrote you a sonnet and it was gibberish
You saw the craft, the ink, the form
But behind the words, what of the storm?
It was an attempt, you found it impish
A music piece of which you heard the rhymes.

April  5, 2018
Poetry challenge day 2: Portrait poem
If she wasn’t hooked on honey
she would fall down on my page
I rescued a blue-winged bee sage
I hope she’ll enjoy her stay
in my human home
She strains her abdomen
I pray it’s not a bad omen
her Hermes powers at rest
Did she leave her nest in earnest
I found her on lonely gray stairs
I pray she heals from her despairs
as the carpenter bee sleeps dangled
To my honey lathered chopsticks
I admire her frail black body
I gently blow on her she’s inside
my heart. I felt hers when she
Gripped my thumb.

March 13, 2018
Lyon
I found a carpenter bee on my way to work and she hadn't moved when I walked up to her a couple of hours later. I took her home and I'm nursing her.
A take on violence

The exiling waves of life
Battered a Syrian child
Swept ashore. We scrolled.
We shrugged this violence.

Eyes glued to a simulacrum of love
Expecting the controlled dominance
Of a filthy rich fictional character
We said: “It’s vanilla.”

Violence as an idea is sweetened
You gulp down the pill
But violence as a means is condemned
You still gulp down the pill.

March 6, 2018
Lyon 1 University
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