Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Mar 2019 Mara W Kayh
sir humbug
wear gloves on your hands,
leaving your eyes free to speculate
and your mind to record
the life of the plant;
and the life of the one who nurtures and tends

follow-from the fallow soil
to my edible plated consumption,
from the baby bud nipping
to sharp crack shot at picking,
to my tongue licking
both your produce and you

you may feed me poems
when the real harvesting is done,
grown in your own private plot,
from you, my good fellow,
follow with love delivered to
my expecting fallow-soul,
awaiting your seeding me,
and I,  
you...
a (the) woman’s body (pretty pleasing)

is my reciprocal

her waist is my happy place

her neck is my doorway

the rest is
best when she is mirror accessorizing,
preening, **** upon first rising,
tallying the gains and the losses

unaware of my watching,
never satisfied she, tho she is 98% unadmitting contented,
as she shifts her weight,
from knee to knee extended alternating
with slow delicacy

for the pleasure is trebled
for her imagine image reverberates
throughout the house

for ever(y) mirror is pre-positioned,
accidentally angled just so, lol,
her image transported from living room to dining alcove
all the way to the kitchen’s bleacher seats

she doesn’t know and asks why I’m grinning,
answer is
no confessionary, no telling I’m swelling and
sinning

eyes scheming-dreaming of her reciprocity

she smiles and says  
“good morning bad boy”

maybe she does know
but you won’t tell her,
we, you and me,
are pretty pleasing

she is 1/me
she is won over me
being a poet is not planned

~for Gabriella Garcia~

~~

a sixteen old soul says she understands,
being a poet is not planned,
forcing an old mans re-collection of the first time,
he made love to a virginal white
papyrus with muscles trembling,
body bent, chest bursting a rockets red glaring,
eyes marking the sheets with salty drip spots

what possessed the wrist veins
to wrest a cheap ballpoint pen to transfuse pain,
in a semaphore of uncoded ink blotches,
what was he thinking

was he thinking?

that it was an ejection
that it was an *******
that it was a tribulation expiation
that it was a tribute explanation?

that it was an injection
that it was a circumspection inspection
that it was a circumscision surgery of emotional complexion
excising an infection with a written genuflection?

try, but no might, the first is subsumed
by the thousands that followed dutifully
though his one poem  flawless, expertly recalled,
it will always be the next,
and unplanned just like this one too

who anointed his brow, the hair and forehead,
with oil pure, dripping down onto, into his cut cain marker,
who is not answering a query relentless
is this his plan, his appointment,
is this his flawed excellence,
is this his imperfect penance perpetual?

knowing well and full
now

the unplanned is his plan,
it’s his faceted flaws
that refract his coloraturas


~~

upon this he reflects,
praying that
god protect the
young poets
from planning
____
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2893127/unplanned
 Mar 2019 Mara W Kayh
lX0st
Terra
 Mar 2019 Mara W Kayh
lX0st
Dirt caked crust
Gives way
To layers of mantle
Above afflicted fireplace
Bearing picture frames
Bitter memories
Pride, then regret
Memento mori

I will not die here
Two tiers from hell
I feel it burning
In my core
Patiently waiting
To take me in pity
As I wish it had done
Before
 Mar 2019 Mara W Kayh
lX0st
Odds Are
 Mar 2019 Mara W Kayh
lX0st
My will slims to none
In this lonely life for one
 Mar 2019 Mara W Kayh
Crow
Resonance
 Mar 2019 Mara W Kayh
Crow
nothing hurts me
like your pain
 Mar 2019 Mara W Kayh
Crow
take my hand and don’t let go
hold God’s hand with your other
give no attention to what you hear
it is only murmurs of lies
words which are of no substance
the sounds of phantoms
they want to destroy you
to cause unbearable pain
to everyone you love
do not listen
please


do not let go with either hand
so that you cannot take
the hand of Death
when it is offered
For my friend, Tim. Who, two Saturdays ago, let go of a hand.
Next page